Okay, it's not as good as hangs hairball story but it was dang funny at the time:
Yesterday morning I woke early and thought "why not a bit of AH before work". So, carefully so as to avoid waking the wife, I got out of bed and made my way to the computer and fired it up. AH, pizza map, okay, let's go... A couple of sorties (both ending in flames) to warm up and I up in my pony. Feeling pretty good, I have 6 pelts and I'm on my way back to link up with a squaddy when I see an enemy 262 below me. "Okay, now we're in business" I think to myself as I dive in... Too slow and too far away though, can't get closer than 1.2k before he pulls away. "Oh well, keep heading for my squaddy" I think as I pull up again.
A couple of minutes later, as I am about to join blckshp (squaddie), I notice the 262 at my low 2 o'clock, diving towards a friendly. I notice that the 262 is pretty low and slow (shame on him) so I grin and dive in to intercept. It's all looking perfect, closing on the 262, 600 yds and gaining, 500 yds and still gaining. "Okay, gotcha!" I think to myself as my finger curls on the trigger...
At that precise moment, one of our cats decides that I have waited long enough before heading downstairs to feed him and I must be in need of a reminder. He decides to jump up on the computer desk and stick his face in mine, neatly obscuring all view I have of the 262 now at a steady 400yds in front of my pony. Alerted by the tracers zipping past his cockpit, the 262 starts to evade as my feline impeded gunsight tries to track him.
I managed to get a couple of pings on the wings of the 262 as I tried adjust the throttle, move the joystick and karate chop the cat all in one movement. Finally managing to grab the cat and move it aside as it tries to type out a message demanding breakfast on the keyboard, I watch in frustration as the 262 accelerates away from range of my guns. My shoulders slumped, I turn to the cat to explain exactly why he is about to be put down, preferably without the assistance of the local vet.
At this moment, I start hearing hits on my plane and tracers stream past. Frantically pushing everything forward I check six to see an enemy spit at 500 yds, firing. With oil streaming from my engine and pieces of my planes wings starting to fall behind the rest of the machine, I barrell roll and try to evade.
The cat, having sensed my desperation and distraction from the immediate call of food, decides that I need some assistance in determining what my next move should be. Ever helpful, it decides that I should be downstairs and proceeds to jump, again, in front of the monitor and inspect my face closely to see why I am so concerned. This proves to be a source of great discomfort for me, as at that moment my virtual plane is very close to the ground with the pilot in blackout, inverted, leaking engine oil and with several rather important pieces being removed by the spitfire that is still quite calmly following me. With a cry I let go of the throttle and joystick, grab the cat with both hands and give him a quick aerobatics lesson that ends with him about 8 feet away and very put out, then grab the controls again and save my plane from smacking into the deck. Fortunately for me (and the cat) a countrymate chose just that moment to kill the spit still on my six and I land at a nearby base with a very weary sigh.
Turning to the cat, trying to decide which method of execution would be most appropriate, I begin to see the funny side of it. After all, I didn't die, landed with 6 kills and pinged up a 262, it's not all bad. The cat started purring, got fed and I had a laugh about the incident on chan 1, telling the 262 pilot that he should be thanking my cat (he didn't though, how ungrateful can you be?). Feeling full of the milk of human kindness, I log off AH and head downstairs to get my own breakfast. I notice on the way past the laundry that the cat has vomited his breakfast all over the floor, just to spite me. Little bastard.
