Word Count: 103
“Oi! Watch it!”
“Goodness me, so sorry old chap!” Alistair flapped backwards.
“Blimey! You nearly took me bloody eye out, you did! Whatchu playin’ at?”
“I’m not ‘playing’ at anything. Merely exercising a paragloodlehooblefloop.”
Tony glared and puffed himself up, ready to fight.
“Ju fink I’m daft or sumfink? Nobody messes with Tony the Blades!”
Alistair, ever polite, cocked his head and smiled.
“Erm…of course not. I’m part of the Southern Signal Squadron. Must have slipped away from the team. So sorry.”
He nodded and flew off at an awkward tilt.
“Squadron Leader.” Alistair spoke into the hidden mic. “Target acquired. Commence firing.”