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Manikin in the fibreglass shop

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There was a lull in the conversation at our weekly aviator meeting at the local club.


Anthony turns to me and asks, “So what’s your latest project, Jack?â€Â


“Well, I’m thinking of getting a life-size manikin, and making a fibreglass mold…..â€Â


That stopped the side conversations.


“Male or female?â€Â


“It doesn’t matter really, but if there was a choice I would take a female oneâ€Â


“No, no, is the manikin male or female?â€Â


“I see, well I would take a female manikin and make a female mold of it first,..â€Â


“Yes, and then…â€Â


I was aware that people at the next table were listening in too.


“What are you going to do with it?â€Â


“We’re here to talk about aviation…â€Â


“Yeah, we don’t want to know about your private lifeâ€Â


“No, no, this is purely an aviation purpose….â€Â


“Is this something frivolous, or something practical?â€Â


I didn’t plan it this way. In fact, I didn’t plan it at all. It was becoming a guessing game.


“You know that if I am the type of person that would put a handle on my model aeroplanes, it is most likely to be something be quite practicalâ€Â


“Yes, that’s true, but I can’t think of anything.â€Â


“Come on Jack, stop holding out on usâ€Â


“Well if you stop interrup, I’ll explain. But there is a problem firstâ€Â


“A problem? Oh, this is a trick, isn’t it?â€Â


“No, no, but my glass is empty.â€Â


“What are you having?â€Â


“Cascade thanks, Julian. I’ll wait till you get back."








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Guest Fred Bear

Ah, that Jack wanabigaplane (or something) humour. Love it! 006_laugh.gif.0f7b82c13a0ec29502c5fb56c616f069.gif 011_clap.gif.c796ec930025ef6b94efb6b089d30b16.gif The Laughter is the best medicine thread beckons my fellow flying mannequin making friend.:)



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“Ahh thanks Julian. Nice drop. Thanks. Cheers.” Raising my glass.” Now, where was I?”


“You were going to tell us what you were going to do with this manikin”


“You’re going to put going to have big breasts on it, aren’t you?”


“No, no, the size of the breasts doesn’t matter, but I suppose if you really think about this application, I must admit that, well, the bigger the better.”


I had to put down my glass to facilitate the appropriate hand action to accompany the comment, and at the same time I was aware of occupants at the next table. They were drinking silently, pretending to be oblivious to our conversation, not wanting to miss a word. A pregnant silence. Then, sensing they’d been sprung, one of the them leaned over and asked:


“What nationality is the manikin?”


“Ahhh,” thinking quickly (well, not as slowly), not wanting to admit I was stumped, and delaying by taking a sip or two from my glass,… “Yes, American, definitely American”


“American?? Why American??”


“Spelling of course, if I used the English spelling, ‘Word’ would put a red line under it and tell me its wrong”


“Blond or brunette?” some one on my table asks.


“Doesn’t matter, I have to cut the top of the head of and fibreglass over to make a flat surface anyway.”


“Like the ideal woman?”


“No, no, this is entirely practical, but I’ll have to tell you in a minute, because at the moment I am working under too much pressure.”


I met one of the other guys from the next table in the dunny, and as he took over chasing the spider along the trough, I asked “That guy asking about the nationality, he’s not a local, is he”


“No, No, he’s a mate of ours from The Oaks. Name's Darren. Yea, he pops up everywhere making comments."



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A bit of secret men’s aviation talk passes, and as my glass approaches empty, someone remembers the conundrum I posted earlier.


“Amerikan, eh? What colour, black or white?â€Â


“Colour’s got nothing to with it. You’re on the wrong track. Fibreglass colour, whatever colour fibreglass isâ€Â


“Are you going to put any clothes on it?â€Â


“No, well, I might, but I hadn’t thought of thatâ€Â


“You could dress it like a terrorist, and….â€Â


“But you’re are going to put it in the passenger’s seat, aren’t you?â€Â


“Yes, of course. It would look silly out on the wing…but that wouldn’t be a bad trick, I suppose. â€Â


The people at the next table were no longer listening overtly.


“I know what it is. Its obvious.†says the guy from the next table I met earlier.


“Yea, what?â€Â


“Well, I’ll tell you, but first, there’s a problem.â€Â


“Aw come off it Ken, you and your weak bladderâ€Â


“I wouldn’t say that after seeing what he did to the spider in the urinalâ€Â


“No chancen, you’re not getting a free beer that way.â€Â


“Well, OK then, I reckon its for making a spare tank in the passenger’s seat !â€Â


“Yea, you’ve got it. Bloody spoil sport. Get back to your own table.â€Â





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