23-year old Canadian Mandy Otway

"Welcome to Ananas Airlines."

A very tan, buff male flight attendant and a redheaded female flight attendant full of freckles greeted Mandy as she boarded the plane.

It wasn't Mandy's first time using the Luranian airliner - it was a pretty common stopover for flights from Canada to Europe, since Luran was an island nation located smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. But it was her first time actually going there with the intent to visit.

It certainly hadn't been her first choice. Mandy disapproved of the nation's authoritarian government, especially its total media blackout. But as her boss had told her all those weeks ago - if she wanted to do investigative journalism, this was her one shot to prove herself. Otherwise it would be back to writing clickbait with titles such as "You Won't BELIEVE This New Weight Loss Method" (what she had failed to mention was that no-one should believe it in anyway, because it was bullcrap), or "Every Disney Princess' Favorite Sex Position" (originally intended as a parody of the hypersexualisation of pop culture. Unfortunately, it seemed nobody got the satire. She even suspected that Mr. Huckleberry had chosen her for the Luran job due to the sauciness of this article.)

"This is your captain speaking, welcome to Ananas Airlines, current flight destined for Santamaranarapivo, beautiful capital of the God-Fearing People's Republic of Luran..."

As soon as she was installed in her seat, she pulled out her old Nokia brick phone. It was pretty much a family heirloom at this point - the thing was indestructible - and it was used on special occasions.

This was one such special occasion. Smartphones were forbidden in Luran beyond the airport.

She checked the contents of her backpack. She'd packed plenty of notebooks and pens (carrying around a laptop in Luran could get you a hefty fine), two dictaphones, water bottles, and a map of Luran that she had printed out at home, as well as a compass. She'd bought a dinky little kid's watch with a cartoon crocodile on it just to tell the time. Going low-tech would be a challenge, but she was ready for it.

What she was less ready for was calling her mom. But... it had to be done.

She clenched her teeth and dialed the number.

Her mom answered the call immediately. "Don't go, Mandy," her high-pitched voice implored Mandy, without even bothering to greet her. Mandy sighed.

"I have to, Mom. My job depends on it."

"Buncha lunatics if you ask me," her mom answered, "sending my little girl off to some tinpot dictatorship full of perverts and cultists."

"It's okay Mom," Mandy said rolling her eyes, "I'm... not so little anymore."

"Rubbish," Mom said in a piercing tone. "You'll always be my little girl, even when you're 50 and I'm decrepit. Your creepy boss just wanted to send you on some lurid adventure because he gets off on it. And you let it happen. I'm starting to believe it's because I'll have no way of contacting you for the coming months, due to that shithole country's wackaroony laws. I mean, no phones? You simply don't want to hear anything from your old momma."

"We've had this conversation about 50 times Mom," Mandy sputtered, but her Mom persevered as always.

"Then let this be the 51st time," she said. "Anyway, promise me one thing, honey."

"What's that?" Mandy asked, rubbing her temple.

"Whatever you do, don't let them turn you into a sex ."

"MOM!!!111" Mandy said loudly, shocked. Some passengers around her seemed to startle.

"Just saying, dear. Anyway, I have to go now, darling, otherwise I might say things I will regret. Take care Mandykins, and try to make some time to use one of those wacky payphones they have there. Love you."

"Yes Mom, alright Mom, love you Mom," Mandy said almost robotically. She hung up. Her Mom had a way of pushing her buttons. She made the prospect of going no contact sound heavenly.

When the flight was solidly underway, the buff male flight attendant approached her, accompanied by a cart. As was customary, the top few buttons on his uniform were undone, revealing strands of chesthair.

"Hello Miss! My name is Fernusko, at your service," the tall, dark man told her in the quaint Transatlantic English accent typical to Luran. 'Well, I was thinking Fabio, but at least it starts with an F,' Mandy thought to herself. She looked over to a male passenger, a nerdy, depressed-looking fellow, who was talking to the freckled female flight attendant. She was clearly flirting with the guy.

This was one of those Luranian habits that Mandy hated: pairing up flight attendants with opposite sex passengers. It was so heteronormative, and she wondered how Ananas Airlines hadn't been sued to oblivion yet.

"I'm very sorry, Fernusko," Mandy said, "I would prefer to be assisted by your colleague instead."

Fernusko looked over at his colleague and smiled his perfect Colgate smile. "I cannot fault you for your choice, Miss. Excellent taste. Enjoy your flight, I shall fetch Desireska straight away."

Huh, he really took that with a stride. Mandy almost felt sorry now... and surprisingly, a little aroused? She had meant to diss the system, not him. In fact, purely going by physical attributes, Fernusko was more her type than Desireska, even if they both were rather yummy.

Mandy took a deep breath. Maybe she should take off her "judgement" hat and put on her "explorer" hat for this mission. After all, she would be stuck there for several weeks with no Twitter... why not enjoy herself a little?