The Future of Terrorism

Since posting my Ken Lay-influenced plot idea as part of GSunderground's Miami Vice Month, another infallible plotline has come up. Check it out...

I got on a flight from San Francisco to Chicago this morning wearing a Coup t-shirt and my Swiss Army briefcase over my shoulder. I had just picked up two bits of plane reading at the newsstand: a Financial Times with the Mumbai bombing story on the cover, and a Discover magazine with a cover headline reading "The Future of Terrorism" placed over a black silhouette of the Twin Towers. Not long after takeoff, I realized my cell phone was still on. I unzipped my front briefcase pocket to get it, and a razorblade scraper (see picture) fell out into the aisle.

I was little surprised, but quickly put it away without looking around. As my heart raced, I pondered the not-so-believable truth that I -- the guy with all the terrorist content wearing a t-shirt of a rapper once suspected as a 9/11 conspirator -- would be spewing to authorities:

We have this beloved plastic basketball hoop suction-cupped to one of the glass walls in my office. Between calls and meetings, we’re constantly taking shots to relieve the stress. One of the suction cups wore out a few weeks ago and we super-glued it to the glass. Then last week, one of our brokers had a client in with her kid and they tried to lower the hoop, not realizing one of the suction cups was shot. So two nights ago, I bought a new hoop, and yesterday I brought in the blade scraper from my toolbox at home so I could remove the super-glue residue before sticking the new suction cups to the glass wall. And I left the scraper in my briefcase.

Yea right, Mister. Now come with us. And here’s a little taser blast to make sure you don’t get out of line while we re-route this plane back to SFO.

Passengers’ panic reaches a fever pitch by the time we land, and they rush me while the flight crew is trying to get me off the plane. In self-defense, I kick some khaki-wearing Blackberry motherfucker who just sucker-punched me in the jaw, and make a break for it.

I make it off the plane with my wallet but not my briefcase, buy a Golden Gate Bridge t-shirt and hat I hang low on my head, and hop a plane to Miami before SFO security can figure out what’s up. In my briefcase, they also find detailed notes for a story involving some corporate drone who’s gone off the deep end and gets his hands on some homemade explosives.

All but the part about actually getting caught carrying the razorblade is true, including the contents of my briefcase. The rest is just to get the storyline started. So if Michael Mann is looking for a life-like Miami Vice sequel idea, it can kick off where Crockett and Tubbs come track me down at The Delano ... where all hell will break looose. And box office gold will shimmer.