Greeley really knew his stuff

Mr. Hall closed the hanger door and shuddered.  A cold wind was blowing the leaves across the freshly mown back forty and he knew what that meant.  It wouldn't be long now, he thought.

"Check the levels and load up the travel bar." he said, "I'll lay in a flight plan for warmer climes.  If all goes according to specs, we should be at the western annex of Penguin Hall by the end of the week."

The veterinarians in New York assured Mrs. Hall that if she just sprayed a little bit of the "Quiet Moments" herbal essence into her cat carrier (a dog crate, actually- the cat ones being much too small for Killer's ample proportions) her little precious would as calm as a plastic plant, a simile Mrs. H. found not a little unnerving.  Mr. Hall examined the contents of the atomizer, wondering aloud what the effects would be upon any other attendant occupants of the cockpit; but the office help convinced him it would only make little kitties mellow, not their hyper-caffeinated owners.  Killer thus being as pharmacologically relaxed as was legally allowed, they sped off into the night.

After a quick visit with Mr. and Mrs. Leo Pranitis, host and hostess extraordinaire, in Chicago for some unparalleled dining, they were back on their way.  Mrs. Hall had insisted on dragging both vehicles out, so for nearly 2400 miles, Winston wore a shadow a scant 10 or 12 feet behind him, zipping along at about 80-85 mph.

 Dusty and dry, the little band rolled into a freshly painted hanger late Saturday evening.  "At last!" sighed Mr. Hall.  He was still stretching his legs and unfolding himself to get out as Mrs. H. sprung into action and started retrieving bags.

"Hold it right there!"  he exclaimed.  "There's only one bag you need to unpack at the moment."  and he handed her a small canvas picnic satchel.  Mrs. Hall smiled; she understood immediately.  "Find a comfy spot, my love."  she soothed, and began to measure the gin.