Pet carrier, cargo bay.
Seriously I've flown enough to gain a real queezy feeling when I see people rumbling in with thier really young kids, who proceed for the next three hours to scream, cry, kick the back of my seat and coat the entire cabin of the plain in an inch thick layer of snot and vomit.
Before the filight take them to a park and run them until they're near collapse, feed them warm milk or ten shots of bourbon.
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My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
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