the transatlanteans

Cousin Pauline was bidding her mother goodbye at the airport.
"Here," said the cousin, "you can take my copy of the Guardian to read on the plane."
Standing a little to one side, my mind reeled between two immediate probabilities.
Jihadis seize the plane.
My aunt offers one of the terrorists (a nice looking young man)  her newspaper to read.
The Jihadis all start reading it.
In quick succession they each die of suppurating boredom.
The UN Rapporteur on Human Rights charges my aunt with war crimes and breach of the Geneva Convention for boring the Jihadis to death.
Oh the humanity.
Conversely my aunt reads it herself and Pauline gets charged with Matricide.