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The helicopter pilot couldn't help himself and started cheering. Harry was an overweight guy, so his athletics were an amazing show.

Harry was offended. "Smartarse bastard," he muttered. "Just wait until I get into that chopper".

While Harry was pulling himself up by the helicopter's landing gear, the Scot realized his error and turned around.

"This bodes ill." he muttered, and realised that he had never heard anyone use that phrase,   "Hardly surprising," he thought, "it really sounds silly when you say it out loud.."

But Harry liked the sound, so he said it over and over...
"This bodes ill."
"This bodes ill."
"This bodes ill."
"This bodes ill."
"This bodes ill."
"This bodes ill."

Oh my god! Echolalia!

The pilot was losing patience

Worse than that, his brother, a doctor, was losing patients.

Worse was yet to come, as a quick glance at the fuel gauge revealed.

A hole with two wires protruding through it, where the fuel gauge should be. Oh joy! he thought to himself., this day gets better and better.

Little did he know what was looming on the horizon.

The rhythmic chanting and the throbbing drumbeats should have given him a hint, but his full attention was taken by a much more immediate problem.

The exposed wires had touched causing a spark which had set fire to the paper bag in which he kept his fish and chip sandwich.

He tried to rescue the halibut, but the paper bag split in two and ... ....

....mirabile dictu.....

What am I thinking? He exclaimed, and pulled the ejection lever.

which, unsurprisingly, came free in his hand.

Feeling rejected he elected to eject in another direction.

"I never had much faith in the 'through-the-rotors' ejector system anyway", he muttered. "ever since I saw that it was manufactured by the Bung Thing meat mincer company."

Oh to #!*#!** with this he said and opened the door, jumped out and leapt off the side of the building.

Drifting down under his parachute he noticed that the high wind was blowing him towards a forest.

The trees in the forest were oddly twinkly

"Strange," he thought. "Every second tree is twinkly. It can't be a mere coincidence. The only other time I saw something like this  was in that disastrous mission to Hyde Park in London."

He drifted into the forest, brushing the tops of the trees and got a twinkle in his eye when he saw

As he slowly dropped down he suddenly saw a fountain.

But it wasn't the kind of fountain shoots water into the air. Rather it gushed...

some kind of dark brownish viscous liquid, not unlike oil in appearance. Unfortunately he was headed straight for it.

"Maybe I was better off back there on the roof," he mused. "My God!" he said out loud. "I wonder what happened to that clumsy fat guy on the roof!"