An Army Apache helicopter pilot must watch his airspeed indicator during his “hey watch this” flying stunt or face Aviation’s Grim Reaper. Death is just nature’s way of telling you to watch your airspeed.

Here is the original sketch for the comic when I had the idea. It helped me think through whether to have it a one-panel or two-panel comic.

The Airspeed Tango: How One Pilot Learned to Dance with Aviation’s Grim Reaper

Captain Mike “Maverick” Reynolds was an Apache helicopter pilot with a flair for the dramatic. Known among his peers for pushing the limits of what an Apache could do (and probably shouldn’t do), he was the guy who could turn a simple flight into a stunt show. Barrel rolls, tight turns, low-level passes over the heads of bewildered infantry—nothing was off-limits when Maverick was at the controls.

But the one thing Maverick had a slight problem with? Watching his airspeed indicator. Because, let’s face it, when you’re too busy pulling off gravity-defying tricks, who has time to check something as boring as airspeed?

“Hey, Watch This!”

The day it all came crashing down (almost literally) started like any other. Maverick had just finished a routine patrol when he saw an opportunity—an opportunity to impress everyone on the ground with a little something he liked to call his “signature stunt.” You know, the kind that makes people below stop, stare, and pray they aren’t about to become a part of a crash landing.

He radioed his copilot, Lieutenant Jerry “Goose” Marshall, who was, at this point, all too familiar with Maverick’s antics.

“Hey Goose,” Maverick said, a grin spreading across his face. “Watch this.”

Goose’s sigh was practically audible through the comms. “Mav, don’t you think it’s time to… not?”

But it was too late. Maverick had already dipped the Apache into a steep dive, sending the helicopter plummeting toward the ground at a rate that would make a roller coaster look like a kiddie ride.

“Uh, Mav…” Goose started, trying to sound casual as the ground rushed up to meet them. “You might want to check your airspeed.”

“Relax,” Maverick said, still grinning. “I’ve got this.”

The Apache swooped low, just skimming the treetops, with Maverick pulling off an impressive corkscrew maneuver that caused a few of the guys on the ground to dive for cover. He was feeling good—too good. This was going to be his best stunt yet.

That is, until Goose’s voice crackled through the headset again. “Mav, seriously—airspeed.”

Maverick glanced at the airspeed indicator, and that’s when he saw it: the needle was far too close to the red zone. In aviation terms, that’s like hearing a ticking bomb and realizing it’s strapped to you.

Enter Aviation’s Grim Reaper

There’s a moment in every pilot’s career when they catch a glimpse of what we in the aviation world refer to as the Grim Reaper of the Skies. He’s not as dramatic as his scythe-wielding, hooded cousin on the ground, but he’s no less terrifying. He shows up when you least expect it—usually when you’ve neglected basic aviation laws, like watching your airspeed during a stunt.

As Maverick pulled the Apache back up from its dive, the airframe began to shudder violently, like a blender about to explode. That’s when he felt it: the icy breath of the Grim Reaper sitting right behind him, tapping him on the shoulder, whispering in his ear.

“Hey, genius,” the Reaper said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Having fun? Didn’t anyone tell you that death is just nature’s way of reminding you to watch your airspeed?”

Maverick’s stomach dropped faster than the helicopter. The Apache was dangerously close to stalling, which, for those keeping score at home, is a pilot’s worst nightmare—especially when you’re pulling a ridiculous stunt in front of your entire unit.

Goose’s voice cut through the chaos. “I’m too pretty to die, Mav! Pull it together!”

Maverick snapped back into focus. With one eye on the airspeed indicator and the other on the trembling controls, he wrestled with the Apache, coaxing it back into a more reasonable flight pattern. The Grim Reaper sighed behind him, clearly disappointed that he wouldn’t be collecting another soul today.

“Oh, come on,” the Reaper muttered. “I had plans, you know. Maybe next time, hotshot.”

The Airspeed Lesson

With the Apache back in stable flight, Maverick wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could still feel the chill left behind by the Grim Reaper, but at least the guy had vacated his seat for now.

“Mav, you ever think that maybe you shouldn’t end your flights with ‘Hey, watch this’?” Goose asked, his voice a mix of relief and annoyance.

Maverick laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, you know what they say, Goose—live fast, fly low.”

“Right, and die because you didn’t check your airspeed,” Goose shot back. “Maybe next time, we focus on staying alive instead of impressing the grunts.”

Maverick couldn’t argue with that. As much as he loved pulling off stunts that left everyone below in awe, there was no point in looking cool if it meant getting a personal invitation from the Grim Reaper himself.

Epilogue: Lessons in Survival

From that day forward, Captain Maverick Reynolds made a solemn vow: he would always—always—check his airspeed during his stunts. Sure, he still had a flair for the dramatic, but there’s nothing like a close encounter with Aviation’s Grim Reaper to make a guy rethink his priorities.

So, the next time you’re watching an Apache pilot do something crazy and daring in the sky, just remember: somewhere, the Grim Reaper is out there, watching, waiting for that one fool who doesn’t check his airspeed. And if you’re lucky, that fool isn’t Maverick, because, let’s face it—he’s already had his dance with death.

As for Maverick, he now flies with a healthy dose of caution, a new respect for his airspeed indicator, and, of course, a mental image of the Grim Reaper, sitting in the backseat of his Apache, tapping his foot impatiently.

Because, after all, death is just nature’s way of saying: “Hey, you forgot to check your airspeed again, didn’t you?”

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