Pilot: "Oh this is nothin'. You shoulda been with us five, six months ago. Whoa... you talk about puke! We ran into a hail storm over the Sea of Japan, right? Everybody's wretchin' their guts out. The pilot shot his lunch all over the windshield, and I barf on the radio. Knocked it out completely. And it wasn't that lightwieght stuff either, it was that chunky, industrial-weight puke. "