It was the year 2034 and things weren't too bad.
The volcano approached the ticket desk for AirAmericas.
"I have a ticket to Montreal for the 7:12 flight."
The young woman at the AirAmericas desk was alarmed.
"Sir, YOU'RE A VOLCANO."
"Um, yes and how are you this lovely morning?"
Outside the earth was cracked and dry. Severe drought had destroyed half the planet while the other half was in a constant monsoon flood.
"It looks like another lovely day." The Volcano remarked.
"SIR, Your LAVA IS DESTROYING MARK WAHLBERG's RESTAURANT."
"Tis a pity indeed but really no great loss there. I've tried to be the change I want to see in the world! You know, change the things I can and know the difference and all that."
A YouTube influencer was attempting to scale the Volcano's eastern pitch but jets of hot steam were scalding her arms and iPhone 103.
"SECURITY!" The woman at the AirAmericas desk was paging security.
"Now that's a bother." Said the Volcano.
"I have my passport."
"Sir, that country is completely under water."
"Does it stop being a country just because of some poor plumbing? I think not."
A wall of burning hot gaseous emission burned through the news rack store. The smell of charred Baby Ruth bars and People magazines filled the airport.
"I'd like a seat on the emergency aisle, if that's possible. I can easily handle the emergency exit door." He smiled knowingly.
"SECURITY!"
Two TSA agents were buried in a minor landslide near the men's lavatory.
"Those guys took my Swiss Army Knife that my father gave me when I was twelve years old!" The Volcano was slightly peeved and a bit weepy.
"Okay fudge it, here's your ticket. You're in seat 23f. The emergency aisle is already taken, sorry.
"Shoot! Oh well. Thank you and have a pleasant day."
The Volcano got in line to board and waited for Group C to be called.
