If you asked Henry “Howling Mad” Murdock where he was born, there might’ve been a chance that he’d tell you the boring truth of the matter, but then again there was the chance he would’ve given you an elaborate story of how he was born in the cockpit of a Boeing 707 that turned into a ranting story of the rise and fall of Pan-Am Airways. In a sense, that was his life— high strung insanity that was somewhere between gag and madness. The last few years? Well, they were probably the most insane of anything he had ever experienced, concocted, or believed. Shifting from a unorthodox ace pilot to a soldier of fortune that evaded the military that sought to punish them for a crime he wasn’t responsible or even guilty of was a wild tonal shift that only he, of their crack group of commandos, enjoyed; in fact he [i][b]knew [/b][/i]he was the only one who enjoyed it, because he had convinced himself and the world around him that he was [i]mentally insane and delusional[/i]. 

It was probably one reason that Bariah “Bad Attitude” Baracus [i]needed[/i] to be unconscious for her to even consider being a consistent passenger whilst he was flying their group around. Their leader, Hannibal, was more than happy to oblige with that sentiment with a steady supply of tranquilizers. But accommodating Baracus was only one small issue that they had to deal with as they moved on place to place trying to get the edge on what exactly happened to them and how to get the military to believe that they didn’t do what they said they did.

As Baracus slept in the shoddily put-together airplane that Face had “acquired” for Murdock, the mad pilot could hear the banter between his squadmates.

“[color=gold]Shot, bang, boom. If they don’t shoot you, they shoot you— very peculiar. Much like Africa, peculiar.[/color]”

It wasn’t very audible given the sound of clanking metal and machinery and Murdock wasn’t even sure what he was going on about. There were ways to reply clearly, simply, and directly to Face’s whining about the situation of being [i]free[/i] but what he had just said wasn’t it. He felt like he knew it didn’t make any sense, but nothing made sense to him anymore. It was like a piece just flung off from his being.

Much like the plane.
[indent][i][h2]CLNNN-RNK![/h2][/i][/indent]
“[color=gold]That isn't good.[/color]” He muttered, before one of his comrades would surely jump and yell at him at what just happened.