[Captain] [breathing hard] Tell me that was the last drone. [Navigator] Last drone? No. Last polite warning? Absolutely. [Captain] Great. I always wanted to be chased over the strait in a cargo plane full of antique chandeliers. [Navigator] Focus. Bank left at the radio tower. [Captain] The sparking radio tower? [Navigator] Yes, the sparking radio tower. It confuses their targeting. [Captain] [nervous laugh] Comforting. [Navigator] Incoming on our right! [Captain] I see it, I see it—hold on. [Navigator] [grunt] You clipped my shoulder with the map case! [Captain] Better the map case than the coastline. [Navigator] Fair point. Altitude dropping. [Captain] Because someone insisted chandeliers count as "light cargo." [Navigator] They are light. Emotionally expensive, physically complicated. [Captain] [sharp inhale] Engine two is coughing. [Navigator] Can you keep it steady for thirty seconds? [Captain] If thirty seconds are allowed to feel extremely long, yes. [Navigator] Good. On my mark, cut the cabin lamps. [Captain] We have cabin lamps? [Navigator] Just do it. [Captain] Lamps off. [Navigator] Now dive. [Captain] Dive? [Navigator] Trust me. [Captain] I trusted you when you said "simple pickup." [Navigator] And look how memorable the evening became. [Captain] [strained laugh] I cannot argue with that. [Navigator] Three, two, one—pull up! [Captain] [effort sound] Pulling— [Navigator] They overshot us! Ha! [Captain] Did we lose them? [Navigator] [listening] ...For five seconds, maybe. [Captain] That's the most hopeful thing you've said all night. [Navigator] Head for the lighthouse. If the keeper is awake, we're saved. [Captain] And if the keeper isn't awake? [Navigator] Then be charming. [Captain] In this situation? [Navigator] [dryly] Do your best.
[Host] Good afternoon from the laundry-line grandstand above Alder Street, where thirteen pigeons are circling like tiny drama critics and one of them is already ignoring the course map. [laughs] We are moments away from the annual rooftop dash. [Co-host] "Annual" is generous. Last year it was two birds and your cousin whistling at a bread roll. [Host] And yet the crowd remembers it fondly. Ah—there they go! Blue ankle band taking an early lead over the chimney gap. [Co-host] Wait, no, no, the gray speckled one just cut across the bakery vent. That's not speed, that's strategy. [sharp inhale] Also probably the smell of cinnamon knots. [Host] You can hear the tension from the neighboring roofs. Mr. Bell has stood up from his folding chair. That is how you know history is near. [Co-host] History or back pain. [Host] Fair. Coming into the final turn by the water tower—oh! A brief landing on the satellite dish. Bold. Risky. Slightly rude. [Co-host] The crowd is divided. One kid is cheering, one kid is absolutely furious, and someone's aunt just yelled, "Let the bird cook!" [laughs] [Host] Down the stretch now, wings pumping, shadows skipping over brick and laundry sheets—this is astonishing— [Co-host] It's the slow one! The plump one from Building C! [Host] I never doubted him for a second. [Co-host] You called him "a loaf with feathers" five minutes ago. [Host] Commentary evolves. [clears throat] And the winner lands on the red bucket! An upset for the ages. [Co-host] Listen to that rooftop roar. [soft whistle] Magnificent. [Host] We'll be back after a short break to interview the champion's owner, who is currently crying and trying to feed the trophy breadcrumbs.
[SPEAKER_1] You still awake back there, Mina? [throat clearing] I swear this old radio only acts haunted after midnight. [SPEAKER_2] Awake, yes. Optimistic, absolutely not. You said it would take ten minutes. [SPEAKER_1] I said it looked like a ten-minute fix. That's different. [SPEAKER_2] [laughs softly] That's what you said about the freezer, the ceiling fan, and my scooter. [SPEAKER_1] Your scooter runs now. [SPEAKER_2] It runs diagonally. [SPEAKER_1] A minor personality trait. Hand me the small screwdriver. [SPEAKER_2] The red one or the one you call "small" for no reason? [SPEAKER_1] Red one. Thanks. [brief pause] Hear that? [SPEAKER_2] The static? [SPEAKER_1] Under the static. [SPEAKER_2] ...That sounds like swing music. [SPEAKER_1] Exactly. This station hasn't broadcast in thirty years. [SPEAKER_2] Great. So we've repaired a ghost. [SPEAKER_1] Be nice. It has excellent taste. [SPEAKER_2] [sighs] If a phantom asks for spare parts, you're handling the invoice. [SPEAKER_1] Fair. But if it requests a song, I'm taking credit for customer service. [SPEAKER_2] Wait—turn that dial back. There, right there. [SPEAKER_1] Oh wow. [SPEAKER_2] Is that... our shop address? [SPEAKER_1] [whispers] And tomorrow's date. [SPEAKER_2] I officially hate this radio. [SPEAKER_1] [nervous laugh] You hated it before it became predictive. [SPEAKER_2] True. Put the kettle on. [SPEAKER_1] You said optimism was off the table. [SPEAKER_2] This isn't optimism. This is strategic caffeine.