#crashes

Disney+ cancellation page crashes as customers rush to quit after Kimmel suspension

Disney faces a wave of cancellations after pulling Jimmy Kimmel Live!, with subscribers reporting that the Disney+ cancellation page keeps crashing.

You are flying to Machester to see your boyfriend. It's a long, long flight from your nearest airport to him. But you wanted to do something nice for him. You packed everything up for two weeks, and you've been impatient the whole plane ride. I'm going to get to see Simon when I get there!!

The plane hits a few bumps. The woman next to you makes a scared face. "Euh, I bloody hate aeroplanes," she groans.

"Hey, it's just a bit of turbulence," you assure her.

"I really, really hope so," she says, gripping her armrests so tight that you hear her joints pop.

"Where are you flying from?" You try to distract her from the bumpy ride.

"Wyoming. Er, well, Salt Lake," she replies. "It was on me bucket list to go an' see Yellowstone."

"Oh, it's gorgeous up there," you say, offering her a smile.

"Yeah it is, innit?" she laughs, easing up a bit. "I rather liked those big, colorful pools. You know, the hot springs?"

"Yes ma'am-"

The plane plummets down. Your stomach drops, and your hands fly to the edge of your seat. Screaming, crying, and prayers erupt in the plane. It evens out for a moment, before plummeting once more.

The woman grabs your hand and squeezes it tight enough to break the bones. But you don't care. You're silently praying. Please, God, don't let me die, you think frantically. I want to see my boyfriend.

The woman is crying next to you. "Hey, hey, hey," you say, holding her hand impossibly tighter.

"We're going to die!" she says between gasping sobs.

"No, we aren't," you reply, though you're not too sure yourself. Everyone is buckled in their seats. Flight attendants shout to keep your heads down.

"I'm never goin' to see my husband again!" she exclaims.

"Yes, you are," your voice breaks. "I swear to God, you'll see him again."

"Christ," she whimpers. You close your eyes, and you can see Simon. Tears slip from your eyes as the plane continues to plummet and bounce into an even line. God, if I don't make it, make sure Simon knows I love him.

"We're going to be okay," you whisper. "Yeah?"

"I don't know," she whimpers.

"I promise you, we'll be okay," you repeat.

"I'm so scared," she admits.

"Me, too. My boyfriend is picking me up when we land. I haven't see him in a year," you ramble. "I'm scared I won't see him again. But listen, these planes are built to be safe. We'll be okay."

"My husband didn't come with me. It was a girls' trip," she chokes.

"Shh, shh, shh," you soothe. "We'll be fine. We're going to be okay."

What feels like hours in hell is likely only a mere hour. You hold the stranger's hand the whole time, trying not to cry. Just make it to Simon. Just make it to Simon. The plane keeps dropping in elevation, then resumes to normal for a few brief moments. A taste of salvation.

The plane lands in Manchester, and everyone is racing to get off. You're just happy it didn't crash. You give the strange a hug when the two of you stand. "We made it!" you exclaim.

"Thank you, lovie," she says against your shoulder. "Bless you."

You smile, though you're trembling from fear. "Thank you, ma'am. That's very kind of you."

You cannot get to baggage claim fast enough. Simon Riley is waiting for you by the carousel for your flight number, wearing a button-up and dark jeans. You'd ogle him if you weren't so goddamn shaken.

"Simon!" you cry, leaping into his arms. The luggage is forgotten.

"'Ello, luv. You 'right?" he asks, catching you easily. He cradles you to his chest as you tremble against him, rocking you gently. You know that's how people would normally soothe toddlers, but you don't even care.

"The plane-" you manage before the tears flood from you. "It almost crashed! Simon, I- I thought I wasn't going to see you again."

"The big dirigible had rammed her nose into the tree." Tom Swift And His Big Dirigible. 1930. Frontispiece.