I was a college student again, and due to a complicated set of circumstances, I had three different dorm rooms. I came back from a week-long vacation to find a series of notes on one of the doors. The notes were from D, who was my HA. Apparently Housing Services had decided that I needed to give up one of the dorm rooms. D's notes started off friendly and nice, but grew more annoyed since I had failed to respond in any way (because I was gone). I felt unfairly judged.
I tried to go to dinner, but I knew that all my old friends weren't there anymore; I didn't have anybody to eat with, and I wasn't even sure I could find the cafeteria. Just then my mom called, but I was in the middle of the sidewalk and it was noisy, so I decided to fly high up in the air so we could have a quiet conversation.
Unfortunately, I flew straight into the path of a helicopter. I managed to dodge it, but it was still coming at me—I realized it was following me. I flew back down to the ground, but the helicopter deployed flying cameras to follow me. It was a spy helicopter!
The helicopter turned out to belong to the CIA. They caught me and pressed me into service as a spy, because my ability to fly was so useful to them. My first few missions were uneventful, but eventually I found myself in the middle of combat. As I was trained to do, I took cover by crouching down and putting my hands over the back of my neck. This kept me safe as the bombs rained down around me.
Once the explosions had stopped, I set about trying to get the wounded onto stretchers. A CIA extraction team came for me just as I was finishing the job. My boss and I found this strange hillbilly hiding in a chicken coop on the edge of the battlefield, who we thought might have been fucking the chickens. We had an extra stretcher so we decided to load it full of eggs, but the eggs kept breaking when we tried to strap them in, so we would just scoop up the raw yolks and eat them. We were laughing and joking the whole time.