I *so* thought about this comic thursday morning. Two flights to get from Montreal to Detroit at the last minute. It's 0630, I've been at the airport for three hours, and up since 0245, after a very short night.
The reason for all this hoopla: I have to go deep into Michigan's Lower Peninsula to pick up and ferry a 172 back for an import to Canada.
The plan: catch up on as much sleep as possible.
First one, I sit down next to a lady with an infant on her lap. The little parasite was wriggling and crying a whole lot, thus leading to think to myself: "Is this going to be the *expletive* flight from hell or what?"
I seriously pondered the idea of sending a note up front that would have said something along the lines of: "Please increase cabin altitude to 12000' if SOPs and safety allow."
No such thing turned out to be necessary as the baby in question slept most of the flight, as did I.
Second flight I was lucky, got a lady fitting the description of B in the comic.