In your dreams, nightmares rather, your plane is highjacked. Quick: who are you on the plane?

I’m the guy still complaining that I have no leg room.

Terrorist.
Huh, first thing that came to mind.

Chicken.

I’m a terrified passenger.

I’m the one the hijacker better not turn his back on. I would not go quietly.

I’m the guy setting fire to the chairs and curtains at the back of the plain.

Hysterical mad girly!!

@ucme that was incredible !!

I’m the pilot. Drat, that means I probably get killed first as an example and maybe even thrown from an opened hatch. I tried to quickly think of another position and the co pilot came to me. Guess I’m doomed.

I’m the Lovecraftian creature coming forth from oblivion, to wrap the plane in its mighty tenticles and bring it down with me to where even the angels dare not tread.

It’s tough to say, but based upon past actions in a few threatening situations, I’d like to think that I would take action to overtake the hijacker. Let me be the flight attendant wielding a pot of hot coffee or the sample seat belt, and I bet I could do some damage.

I’m the guy who shoots down the plane with a SAM, complete with the massive fireball from the explosion. I am the owner of the plane, so that it is still my plane.
First thing that came to mind.

The girl with headphones and a book who has no idea that anything unusual is happening.

the guy who says enough is enough I am sick and tired of these fuc*ing snakes on this fuc*king plane, now strap down because I’m about to open some fuc*king windows.

yes very random but I always wanted to say this !!

Pilot.

I’m the guy sitting next to @Russell_D_SpacePoet saying “you take that one, I’ll take that one.”

I’m the former marine with a hardened heart who sets a clever trap for the hijacker, taking all the bad guys down while displaying my fabulous wit. Then, because the pilot has been incapacitated by the terrorists, my romantic interest must attempt to land the plane as I confront the flight attendant, who is actually the spy who killed my brother. The climax of the film, I mean dream, involves a match of chicken as the flight attendant and I drive trolleys of reheated sausages and mash down the aisle towards each other. “Fasten your seatbelts, motherfucker,” I say, and get her in the mouth with an in-flight safety card.