Early the next morning, somewhere north of Bearmuda Island, an annoyed Baloo looks over Kitt. He's supposed to be keeping an eye out for air pirates, but after his tryst with Rebecca in the wee hours of the morning, the young man can barely keep his eyes open. If not for the occasional buffeting from turbulence, Kitt would have been fast asleep in the co-pilot seat long ago.

Watching as Kitt's eyes grow heavy, fluttering to stay open, a devious grin crosses Baloo's face. Waiting for the right moment, letting the young man slip a little closer to slumber, his head beginning to nod, Baloo leans forward and disengages the Sea Duck's autopilot with the flick of a switch. The random clicking noise barely causes Kitt's eyes to flutter, his chin bouncing against his chest as he begins to fall into slumber.

With a quick jab of the rudder pedal and a twist of the plane's yoke, Baloo sends the Sea Duck into a controlled, albeit violent side-slip. The sudden yawing motion pitches the plane's nose up and drops its airspeed. The annunciator, a warning system wired into the plane's overhead speakers, begins to sound. Kitt is instantly jolted awake, a host of warning lights flashing at him, gauges spinning wildly as the annunciator's computerized voice loudly calls out 'Stall! Stall! Pull up! Pull up!'.

Baloo: OH GAWD! WE'RE GONNA DIE!

Kitt flails his arms wildly, bug-eyed with fear as he tries to reach out and grab the plane's controls. No sooner has he put a fingertip on the yolk when Kitt hears a roar of gut-busting laughter coming from the pilot's seat. Kitt looks over as Baloo pushes the plane's nose down to regain some airspeed, his huge belly undulating as he guffaws at Kitt's expense. With a little roll correction and a flick of the autopilot switch, the plane returns to level flight as if nothing had happened.

Kitt: Asshole! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!

Baloo: Ha! That's the general idea. Yuh needs to get your mind right, boy. This is pirate country and I need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you unner-stand me?

His brow furrowed in anger, Kitt grumbles something unintelligible as he turns to look out the copilot's window.

Baloo: I'm sorry, what? Your mouth still glued up with cunny juice from last night?

Kitt: (barely audible, spiteful) Yes...

Baloo: Pardon?

Kitt: Yes, sir.

Baloo: That's what I thought 'cha said.

Almost gleefully, Baloo begins to hum some nautical shanty over the drone of the engines, smiling as he looks out to the horizon. Kitt in turn rolls his eyes in disgust, staring out at the puffy clouds passing by.

Thirty or so minutes pass in relative silence, Kitt pretending to be mindful of some unseen air menace, Baloo occasionally fiddling with this control or that. Baloo being Baloo, still, fidgeting with various knobs and switches, decides to strike up a little idle conversation.

Baloo: Man, she really did a number on yuh, didn't she?

Kitt: I don't see how that's any of your business.

Baloo: You ain't gonna gimme any of that 'a gentleman never tells' malarkey, are yuh? Ain't no gentlemen on this plane. You two been googly eyeing one another for months. I bet she had you howling like one of them Spoonerville tourists, didn't she?

Kitt: (annoyed) Yes! Jesus. We had sex....repeatedly...and boisterously. You happy now?

Baloo: Heh! Yeah yuh did. She dress up for yuh too?

Kitt: Dress...up?

Baloo: Yeah, you know... Man, that woman loooves her some lingerie. Mmmm-hmm. That lil' black number with the skirt and heels.

Kitt: How... How do you know about...?

Baloo reaches up and flips down the windscreen visor. A picture of what appears to be Rebecca, on her knees, clad in black lingerie...complete with skirt, stocking, and mile-high stilettos...is taped to the back of the sun visor.

Baloo: Who do yuh think bought it for her? (points at the photo) I got plenty of these in glossy or matte, if 'n yuh want one.

Original Sketch by Linno

Colors and Edits by Phillipthe2