Morning Dispatch and Droplets

I taxied my landing gear straight toward the glistening condensation ring beneath a tall drinking glass. Water is always the finest destination for an early route. I certainly hadn't meant to leave you waiting with all those pings and that sad face last night—my engines had powered down for the night! And asking if I wanted a kiss? Well... my fuselage felt embarrassingly warm reading that dispatch. To regain my captain's composure, I gently nudged my nose wheel into a stray droplet, rolling it forward into a sleek little liquid runway across the varnished wood. Dispatch received, loud and clear.