<strong>HEINZ VON OBERAMMERGAU</strong><br/><br/><strong><em>"Scheiße, nicht wieder!"</em></strong>I swore as some Midwestern peasant vandalised my engine, making a horrendous and unfortunately familiar noise. I shrugged as the launcher let me go with a clunk, glad to be off the blasted zeppelin, then groaned at my complete lack of engine power as I folded the wings out to stop my plane falling any faster. At least I had some forward speed from falling out of the moving airship, around 100 miles per hour, so I managed to keep the nose just a few degrees below the horizon as I tried to start the left engine again. A look in the mirror showed it at least still had a propeller on it. It had probably flooded, judging by the last dreadful noise I'd heard. Quickly, I retracted my landing gear to stop it slowing me down till I stalled.<br/><br/>Feeling in my map pocket, I grabbed the spare speedloader for my shotgun starter. There were five cartridges in it. I used one to turn over and blow the crap out of the port engine, making my plane trail even more black smoke for a moment. I was diving through the clouds at almost 150 miles per hour, a speed I tried to maintain while descending as slow as possible. Thank God I wasn't over the Rockies. I turned the ignition back on, opened the throttle a crack, inserted the second cartridge into the starter and fired it with a bang, then listened for any sound of the engine coming to life as I kept the plane more or less flying, and inserted a third cartridge into the starter, just in case.