that I was in a P-38 Lightening.
Had Iron Cross markings and camo' to look the part.

Racing across the English Channel at night...
Trying to sneak into France (or wherever).

Modified to accept lazyboy recliners for pilot & me in front.
With T'pol and "flounder" from DTX animal house frat' riding shotgun in back.
(T'pol was giving Germanic language bush-up lessons as we flew)

We landed clandestine enough in some field/farming area at night.

Went to a hophbrauhaus and got totally torched in Munich beer
and schnaps. And some s.s. fritzy officer got all over us
for being drunk in public. Then he saw our fake news
shoulder flashes. As we wore the insignia of the
Gen.Paulus personal panzergrenadier officers.
And were nutty escapees of Stalingrad.

He was bewildered when "flounder" told him in totally
bad -masked as being drunk- deutsch that his Uncle Hermann
(Göring) was fat though was not a nice man.

Then T'pol -in fishnet totally banging 3rd reich cat look-
showed up; and (ostensibly) arrested us and got us outside
to safety in that jerry car that had the tire mounted on the hood.

wowow!

spȧt-
b.street