Still, assuming that there were some slipup and I was allowed to sneak past, I can't get over the idea that it would be glorious to zip around in a fighter jet, sending out jets of hot plasma death into the bodies and vehicles of my enemies. It's also sort of appealing that if you're going to get into a dog-fight, chances are you're either going to waste the bastard and win, or go out with a bang. Across the palate of my mind are the sweeps and turns of contrails, forming a beautiful strategic symmetry.
Well, that settles it. I'm asking for a star fighter for christmas.