Hurricane is a beauty
"Well, the good news is you're grounded. No more Hurricanes." He widened his smile, made it almost congratulatory. "I knew you'd be pleased..." They weren't looking pleased. "Now it's just a matter of going through the formalities." He fished a sheet of paper from his in-tray. "You're not the only ones, of course. Dozens of chaps are itching to fly Spits.
Itching. Personally, I think it's a bloody awful kite, always going wrong, doesn't turn anywhere near as tightly as a Hurri, very shaky gun-platform, and it's got that knock-kneed undercart, all you have to do is run over a small turd and the whole shooting match capsizes. Plus, of course, the Spit's got no stomach for Jerry bullets, stop a couple and you've bought it, whereas the Hurricane gobbles 'em up and comes back for more...Anyway...where was I?"
* * *
"Welcome!" Haducek cried. "We were just discussing the many ways in which the Hurricane is superior to the Spitfire. Sit down, have a drink."
"Oh, Christ," CH3 said.
"No, it is true," Zabarnowski told him. "Did you know that you get a much better pattern of bullets from the Hurricane? This is because the four guns in each wing are closely grouped together."
"In the Spitfire," Haducek explained, "the guns are spread all along the wing. That is not so good."
"Also," Zabarnowski said, with a flourish of his index finger, "the Hurricane is a much better gun-platform."
"I know," CH3 said. "I told you that at the start."
"This also is related to the placing of the guns," Haducek informed him. "A very, very good idea."
"The Hurricane remains steady, you see," Zabarnowski said. He handed them glasses of some clear fluid. "The Spitfire wobbles and shakes. Cheers."
"Hey, come on now," Barton said. "The Spit's a hell of a good kite."
"But look at its wheels!" Haducek protested. "Thin little wheels that close together, while the Hurricane has those big strong wheels, very wide apart so you can throw it at the ground when you land, much better."
"Wheels! Who cares about wheels?" CH3 scoffed. "What you need is
speed, and the Spitfire's faster, no two ways about it."
"Ah, but it's not so tough!" Zabarnowski was getting excited. "You hit a Spit one little bang and
poof! She snaps. You hit a Hurricane all day and all night and all next day and she never minds nothing, she flies you home, safe."
"No," Barton said. "Big slow fat old cow. Lousy plane."
"Lousy," CH3 agreed. "Hurricane is cock-up."
"Hurricane is dump," Barton said.
"I tell you about guns," Zabarnowski said eagerly. "With Hurricane you get much better pattern of bullets, see, because - "
"Okay, okay!" Barton waved him down. "You can fly again."
From Robinson, Derek, "Piece of Cake."