David and Andrew both placed their hands on Savannah’s shoulders and lead her to the dryer. David explained, “Okay, Banana, the test you must go through is known as the G-force ratio,” David showed a picture of the actual machine pilots use. “The dryer will rotate you in circles fast just as this giant space machine does, only you’ll be lying down rather than sitting up; don’t get worried, you won’t be going nearly as fast. But, in order for you to pass, you must stay in here for a minimum of one minute; if you really want to be a true astronaut, you must stay in there for two minutes like us big boys do—we’re not little G-I-R-i-L-l-a-s.”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Yeah! Are you only going to do the talkin’ or are you going to do the walkin’?” Andrew challenged her.

“Whatever boys can do, girls can do better. Get me inside this giant dryer machine!”

The boys lifted Savannah up and slowly placed her inside, feet first.

As Andrew closed the door, David began the count down, “T minus five seconds; —four,—three,—two,—one; test subject is initiated.”

Andrew asked, “How long do you really expect her to stay in there?”

David cracked up laughing, “I’m giving her maybe three or four rounds.”

Andrew and David stood as they listened to the electric motor give all the strength it took to get Savannah rotating as the motor squealed like a pig being pulled from its mother during feeding time while it gradually made up its momentum; the frame of the dryer began jumping around from the vibrations.

“Is this all you’ve got? You guys are wimps!”

Just after Savannah talked, the speed increased; as the dryer made one revolution, an immediate “thunk” is heard as Savannah’s body tumbled around; not once, not twice, not three times—this continued for seven rounds until she called out, “Get me out of here!”

Being seriously ticked from tolerating such a roller coaster of a ride, Savannah pushed the door to the dryer open and immediately stuck her helmet out; the boys gave her a hand getting out.

“Well, Andrew, it looks as though we need to find another test subject. This one’s failed on her first day,” David said, shaking his head as a sign of disappointment.

Savannah has her arms crossed with the attitude of a bat out of hell and the look of vengeance in her eyes as she marched into the kitchen.

The mother asked, “What on earth got under your wings, Ms. Pilot?”

“Those boys, they just make-eth me so mad! Flying’s for the birds!”

Kneeling down beside her daughter, the mother lifted Savannah’s chin, “Darlin’, it’s not the flying that’s bad—it’s the crows doing the teaching.”