A Concorde with a terrible paint job and a passenger list of half-wits begins to have trouble in the air.
I didn't care that Mike Brady was the captain. I didn't care that Ben Cartwright was one of the airport big-shots. I didn't even care that when the plane wrecked and burst into a giant fireball, everybody on board would die a bloody screaming death. As a matter of fact, I was hoping for the plane to explode. Yeah, that would be good, because then I could see every one of these dildoes fry and watch them float down to earth in a shower of bacon bits.
Thank you for burning beyond recognition with Dumbbell Airlines.