• Which the release of FS2020 we see an explosition of activity on the forun and of course we are very happy to see this. But having all questions about FS2020 in one forum becomes a bit messy. So therefore we would like to ask you all to use the following guidelines when posting your questions:

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Norbert the trainee

...and turned into stainless steel strands with wickedly sharp points on the ends! :rotfl:
 
So he has to change eyebrows every now and then lest they become too sharp to be around?
 
That is fantastic. Too many funny bits to have a favorite.

I realize you were making a point about something easier to use than Booleans. I've always used Booleans…not quite sure but I think it has to do with the vertexs that pop out of nowhere when using a Boolean to cut a hole, etc?

BTW, you could write a chapter about if/when Norbert strikes out on his own and sets up his own company. Setting up a web site…starting a news blog that really just announces, one after another, the new reason the next project is late…all the banking stuff…making promo videos…voice acting and sound effects for missions!

Anyway, truly funny stuff - I recognized my self in several paragraphs…especially the Mirror bit…took me a week and several forum searches to figure out that one. Yikes…flashbacks!

R/ Hangar32


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk HD
 
Norbert builds a model

I just can’t space them evenly. Norbert stared in despair at the canopy frame bolts after the thirty seventh attempt. However I distribute them there’s different numbers on opposite sides and they’re packed closer on the uprights than the horizontals. José shook his head at the Array settings: I thought thees was precision tool, but what the tortilla now? You still messin’ with that, Norbert? Distribute ‘em along a Path. Simples! HotShot swaggered off towards the coffee machine for his eighth refill of the morning, the habitual “everyone knows that” look on his spotty face. Irritating squit that one, Norbert muttered to José, and he’s right again, blast him! The bolt heads lay around the framing now at 2¼ inch spacing and precisely aligned. Well that’s it, all ready to paint and code.

I have wanted to ask you, said José with his head to one side, it is good model and VC is wonderful detailed, but is really ugly aircraft. Why not build beautiful aircraft? Classic airliner or Empire flying boat? Such lines, such elegance! José was known for his flying boat fixation, forever refining the Clipper terminal in his Wake Island scenery. Yeah, but this is a really interesting ‘plane. You know they could safely land on an airstrip too short to lift back off of? Full reverse thrust on these props! She wasn’t built to win beauty contests – or carry passengers. Some day you will make beautiful model and you will know I am right, laughed José. Some day! and he went back to his own work.

That’s shaping up really well, son: you’ve come a long way. Time to show her off, don’t you think? It was the senior modeller. Let the great unwashed have a looksee. Give T.C. Mits a preview. T.C. Mits? asked Emilio from his workbench: whadda you say? It’s an English expression, apparently: The Celebrated Man-in-the-street. How do I do that? Norbert wondered. TIME TO VISIT THE FORUM CORRIDOR! the others chorused; except HotShot, who blanched and hurried off.
 
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Armed with some screenshots, Norbert headed for the far side of the canteen and the double swing doors. The Tin Man was just coming out, screeds of XML under one arm. Don’t let them get you down, don’t take any crap, he growled, a sulphurous look on his face. The brightly lit corridor stretched ahead, reddish brown spots trailing along the floor. On the left was a door marked “1st Flight Forum”: it took a minute or two for his eyes to adjust after the fluorescent glare of the corridor. Tiered seats could be glimpsed in the gloom, all empty. A large CRT screen bore a single message at the bottom: “hey duke u ok?”: the only other light came from a dusty 25W bulb dangling from the lofty ceiling. Hello! Hello? No response, just an odd rasping sound from somewhere high up and Norbert could feel an enormous sneeze coming on as he headed back to the corridor. Wiping his nose and brushing the cobwebs off, he realised the one person left in there was enjoying a prolonged nap.

The next door bore the legend “Netwings” in neat lettering. A voice called Oi! as he stepped through the door, dropped a couple of feet and landed sprawling in a deserted cul-de-sac with an old beer tin and pizza box for company. It was warm in the full sun, but the doorway had disappeared and only blank walls, gravel and weeds met his gaze. A moment later the same voice called You okay lad? as the door reappeared, open in the plain cement wall: the cleaner had an amused look on his face. I tried to stop you; this place disappeared years ago but the Powers still keep the door as a placeholder. Brick it up, I say. Norbert scrambled back into the corridor. Thanks! Owe you one, thought I had a long walk round to the front door. The cleaner chuckled. Watch yourself here, it can get messy. I try to wash the stains off the lino but I can never keep up. You want to know which places are the worst, look for the most spots.

Following the cleaner’s advice Norbert walked past the next door and its heavy trail of stains, some of them almost scarlet, and pushed through the one after. There was a strong smell of cheap deodorant and something else in the background, but the arena was well lit, the big display full of messages and half the seats were occupied. Norbert sat down, filled in the registration form on a small screen and noticed the buzz around the place. The New Thread control was straightforward and he grinned as the screenshots came up on the big display: “Hi, this is my first complete model project. Animations and mapping are done, so she’s off to the flight tuners and the paintshop.” The answers came almost immediately: “Oh wow, will that have missiles and napalm?” “Cool. Is that the Bronco?” “No you moron, nothing like a Bronco except for two engines. Will it be Tacatacked?” “Can I have a copy?” “I really want one for CFS2, can you send me one?” “I want one too!!” “Dude, I really want a Flying Muskrat livery on that and can you do a Fighting 47th, the one with the Superman logo?” “Yeah and .65 cal chain guns on the nose!” The buzz had risen to a strident note. “You’re kidding” Norbert protested, “it’s a reconnaissance bird with infra-red or side-looking radar. Only the A had any weapons and not all of them.” The demands came thick and fast until, with the buzz an overwhelming drone, some demanded the source files. I’m getting outta here thought Norbert and stumbled towards the door. Hands grabbed at him as he passed, some trying to snatch his screenshots. Locusts! he muttered, back in the corridor, heading for the canteen, when he suddenly remembered that background smell. It was dead sneakers.
 
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Back at the workbench he noticed his inbox was well filled. Apart from the usual work rosters for next month there was a welcome message from the locust forum and a number of tins bearing various labels – without exception they contained an unappetising pink processed meat. Who’s sending you that? asked AirbusNut. Then he noticed the welcome message: You haven’t been in there, have you? They used to call themselves Ultimate Free FlightSim Archive until the last time they were shut down for piracy. Nobody knows exactly who runs it but it’s full of spotty filesharers and dodgy downloaders. There was a clatter as more tins landed in the box. Don’t waste time opening them, just pull this lever round here. With a clunk, clunk the tins dropped into the waste bin.

Later that day he had another go at the corridor. There was another spotted and streaked trail further along, so Norbert tried the door opposite. “Ten-HUT!” a voice thundered, “HAVE YOU WASHED YOUR HANDS??” Er, no. ”HANDWASH STATION AT THE DOOR. DO IT NOW!!” Okay, okay. Seated at last, he filled in the typewritten registration form. “BLACK INK ONLY AND SIT STRAIGHT!” For pity’s sake! he thought. Eventually the new thread was started: “Hi, this is my first model. Animations and mapping are complete, so it’s off to flight tuning and the paintshop next.” “COLLOQUIALISMS ARE NOT PERMITTED. STATE THE TYPE, VARIANT AND BUREAU NUMBER. CONFINE REMARKS TO SERVICE AND PRESERVATION STATUS IF APPLICABLE.” Stuff this, I’m off, muttered Norbert and got back to the workshop just as the hooter sounded the day’s end.
 
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Next morning the Second Supervisor was helping check the modeldef sections and Norbert took the chance to ask: I’m told I ought to show off my work on the Forum Corridor but all the places I’ve seen are empty or stuffed with nutters. The supervisor’s shoulders shook and the tears ran down his face until he could speak straight again. Oh dear oh dear, you’ve made my day! Ha ha ha ha! You’ve been avoiding the trails, haven’t you? Yes, they’re a bit off-putting…and I was warned about them. The places worth visiting all carry risk but that’s where the public are. Don’t be like HotShot: he had a mauling six months ago over a piffling paint job error and he’s shied off ever since. If you don’t exhibit your work no-one will be interested, so take a deep breath and get in there! When he had gone, Norbert pulled the lever on his inbox, listened to the prolonged rattle as another seventeen tins landed in the bin, and headed for the corridor once more.

This time he registered and just sat reading the messages scrolling up the big screen. On the way in he’d noticed the trail of spots spread out inside the forum arena; they scattered towards seats all around the tiers and most were dark brown and very old. Reading the posts he wondered what he’d been worrying about: screenshots of airliners in unusual weather, questions about ATC frequencies, SID/STAR details for remote airports, an obscure explanation of alternate liveries and basic questions about setting autopilot options. A lively debate on the merits of different flight planning packages got a lot of responses; a warbird update patch was scarcely acknowledged. That got Norbert thinking: there was a general flavour to the posts and that flavour was commercial aviation. He read for another quarter of an hour as someone asked for recommendations to spend his month’s leisure budget: the answers divided almost equally between a 577GB cloud texture package and the latest Airbus model to feature a zero-visibility automatic landing system. I don’t think they’d be interested he thought, tucked the screenshots back under his arm and left.
 
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Following the trail farther down the corridor, Norbert found the next busy forum featured extremely comfortable seats. The registration took just moments and the big electronic whiteboard was particularly easy to read. Tempers were fraying over the flight model for a Horten 229; three people were arguing over the absolute Mach limit, quoting various obscure websites and YouTube videos and a fourth insisted on including afterburner calculations for takeoff thrust. Other posts urged “People, calm down. There’s no record of the only prototype ever clearing 350 knots before it crashed!” and similar. The temperature rose further until a tannoy broke in: “COOL IT YOU LOT or I swear I’ll lock the thread!” The afterburner advocate complained bitterly, questioning the tannoy voice’s parentage, grammar and personal hygiene. Norbert could see him off to the left, two rows up, shaking with rage and madly posting more bile. There was a sudden hush and a voice somewhere muttered “I know what’s about” … a blinding flash and a thunderous bang … “to happen.” When Norbert’s eyes recovered he looked again at the enraged poster. A small label was fixed to the seat but the guy was nowhere to be seen and four heavies were strutting back from the far exit, dusting their hands.

The posts turned to other topics: general aviation, more screenshots, a review of bush aircraft, updates to a classic transport, a poll of flight pedal owners and photos from a recent small airshow; everything except commercial aviation, in fact. Oh well, Norbert thought, here goes and posted his screenshots. For some minutes nothing was said, then the whiteboard began filling up: “Is that Monty Sidcup’s FSDS model? Good to see it with a VC!” “I’m not sure the canopy glass is right, it was an unusual purplish-green shade.” “We called them Horseflies when they called in for repair: that brings back a lot of memories.” “That can’t be Monty’s, it’s too smooth and the gear is too complex. Is that your own work? Like that a lot!” “That’s all wrong, the wings are too wide and there’s no leading-edge slats.” “Saw these with the Coastguard when I was finishing my service. Hope you’re going to do the extended nose and FLIR. Pretty please?” “How about the fire-bomber conversion?”“The dive brakes aren’t showing either, it just isn’t the real deal without dive brakes.” “The canopy was more yellowish-brown, except the -1EF which had optically flat glass ahead.”

“This is a new model,” Norbert answered “and it’s a work in progress. There are no slats or divebrakes ‘cos it’s the main production version with the SLAR pod as an option so has the bigger wingspan. Didn’t know they were called horseflies, lol.” More comments followed with the occasional question, but what now caught his attention were several messages appearing on the small screen beside his chair. Intrigued, he printed them out to read later: it was time to get back to the workshop. Before leaving, he walked up to where the afterburner advocate had been: the seat label read ‘Banned.’
 
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He’s alive! a voice called when Norbert pushed through the swing doors. No broken limbs? Concussion? Anyone smell burning? Laughter told Norbert it was tea break and they’d been waiting for him coming back. A steaming mug was pushed into his hand as his workmates ushered him to a seat. How did it go? Just then TurningPan and Bill also emerged from the corridor: Pretty good reception, Norbert, good job! TurningPan seemed impressed, but Bill was distracted and limping painfully. What’s up? Not more hassle over the fuel gauges? Bill sighed heavily. No, four of them had a go at my prototype payload panel. It’s not even in beta and they all know exactly how I should have done it, how it should look. Why they can’t build their own I don’t know. They all go on about PTSD and their latest 707, why can’t I code my systems like their engine management panel and produce the thing in ten days. Ha! Norbert realised Bill had been in the commercial aviation forum all this time.

The rest of the morning kept him distracted coding the IR control unit, so it was lunch time when Norbert pulled out the printed messages over a cheese sandwich. The first was from a veteran, thanking him for recreating an important part of his military service, the second from an enthusiast asking for “a fire bomber modl dude, that be real cool.” Another welcomed him to the forum and was signed “The Staff” while the last asked some very pointed and hostile questions: “Why have you made a model in direct competition with me? I have been working on this aircraft for 18 months: why have you not cleared your project with the forum authorities? Who gave you details of the D cockpit layout? I have exclusive rights to this data, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer about this. Rico Brac”

The afternoon passed coding power management switches but Rico Brac’s message had spooked him and he couldn’t concentrate on getting them to work with the reserve power system. As the shift ended he headed back to the forum arena to see if there were any more developments. To his surprise a lot of posters were insisting he instead build a Beech RC-12 and the fire bomber fan had posted a number of photos from the Canadian Rockies. “This aircraft was never used as a fire bomber afaik,” he replied “although I can see why you might think they have a similar tail to my model. It’s not a flying boat, it’s got wheels and I’m sure it would sink, lol. As for the Beech, no thanks: they took a good-looking ’plane and made it ugly” (this after a quick Google to see what they were on about) “Mine is ugly but they designed it that way from scratch.” There were no more responses for now; nothing else from Rico Brac either.
 
The model was wheeled along to the paintshop next morning. HubCaap made his usual face at the LithUnwrap primer: I’ll get rid of that right now he mumbled, connecting his big spray gun to the tank of chromate. If you want these Nikes to stay fashionably clean, best clear out. Norbert closed the booth door behind him and the windows clouded with spray mist. Before returning to the cockpit systems he went back to the corridor.

“I am disappointed you have not replied to my message and have persisted advertising your plagiarism. Do you think this complaint is trivial? I have spent considerable time and effort negotiating access to the sole airworthy example of the D variant. Your crude rip-off has placed this access in jeopardy. I expect an announcement that your project is cancelled by end of today or I shall have no option but to take this further.” Norbert stared at the message, thunderstruck.

He was still in a daze when he met The Big Man back in the canteen. You look worried laddie, what’s up? Er, how do you clear your work with a forum? What’s that, where did you get that idea? The Big Man was incredulous. Well, I don’t want to overstep the mark with other people’s work or mess theirs up. How would you do that? The Big Man asked. Well it seems someone else has been building the same aircraft, although I’ve built the B and C versions and he thinks it’s the D. He’s pretty hacked off and wants me to stop or he’s gonna do something about it. His colleague scowled and muttered something under his beard. Look here, you’ve done nothing wrong and this jerk is trying it on. Who is he anyway? He’s called Rico Brac. Come on, laddie; let’s find out some more and The Big Man led Norbert back down the corridor. Together they went to the back of the arena where the Members’ Roll was displayed: Norbert noticed some familiar names as they scanned the list. Rico Brac was near the bottom of the last column. Look laddie, he’s only been a member here since last month and has posted just once. The Big Man consulted a nearby screen showing Rico Brac’s content: it read “Could someone tell me where I get Gmax?”

So what do I do? Norbert asked. The Big Man gave him a hard stare. Nothing! Don’t even answer the clown. If he causes trouble you report him to the admins and they deal with it. And nobody can decide what you build: it’s a free-for-all in the FS game. I mean, how many Mustangs are there on the market? Norbert relaxed: Yeah, you’re right. So I just carry on anyway. Exactly laddie, you just carry on: now back to work with you! They walked back to the workshop and Norbert set about the Nav radios with renewed enthusiasm after dumping the twenty three tins from his inbox – clunk, clank, clatter.
 
HubCaap came over just before lunchbreak, his overalls smudged green and olive. Hey Norbert, you thought about a paintkit? It’s easy to do now but I’ll need an outline with labels. Yeah, great! How’s it coming? HubCaap grinned: You ought to drop by this afternoon, the basic coat is drying off and I get on with decals next. Passing the spray booth on his way to lunch Norbert was surprised to see it was empty. A throaty chuckle behind made him turn around: the First Supervisor, HubCaap and the Tin Man were stood beside a twin-engined aircraft in flat olive. Is that mine? Gosh! Don’t touch her yet, the paint’s still soft. That’s a fine job son, the First Supervisor said, shaking his hand, we did a static restoration of one of these for Pima a while back. You should get some requests for special paint jobs, HubCaap. I hope so, the painter replied but come back tomorrow and I have a surprise for you.

Next morning Norbert took some pics of HubCaap’s work to the forum arena. “Early work on the C’s paint is in progress. Weathering and dirt are some way off and the gear has never seen oil yet. Please also avoid the prop arcs!” He was thrilled to see the thread had already passed five hundred views; then he saw the message alert flashing.

“You have deliberately ignored all reasonable requests. Your last chance to avoid referral to the administrators is to send me your source files and to desist from posting any more pictures of your third-rate model. This warning is final. Rico Brac.”

Norbert typed out a reply: “You only joined this forum a month ago and there’s no sign of any model by you. You say you have exclusive rights to the D version and its only airworthy example, but I know of half a dozen in flying condition and anyway I’m building the B and C versions. I’m not going to send you anything. Get lost. He sat for a moment shaking, re-reading his reply, then remembered The Big Man’s advice and deleted it. Rico Brac could wait.
 
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Back at his bench he was about to consign the thirty two new tins to the waste bin but spotted another message in there. It had an odd graphic of a pig with cyber-spectacles and read: “Hi. I was shown screenshots of your model and wanted to say excellent work. I built one a long time ago and you can have the flight model for yours if you like; it was well received back then. Contact me via HubCaap. Porker.” As the tins did their death rattle in the bin, the First Supervisor waddled up. Come with me Norbert, I want to see how the paint is shaping up.

At HubCaap’s work area the aircraft was still sitting in plain military olive: the painter himself was busy at an easel, drawing panel lines on a profile of Norbert’s model. There’s some stretching at the engine nacelle fronts, but okay otherwise HubCaap remarked and showed them his work. This one’s for you he said to the supervisor and pulled another version from under the 2ft x 2ft sheets. I love the sharkmouth, but the tail numbers weren’t full-width the supervisor replied, his eyes glowing with pride: she’s still at Pima, last I heard.

And now for something completely different HubCaap murmured, opening a drawer below and taking out a fully drawn profile in light grey. This is what I always enjoy he said, throwing the profile over the aircraft, whereupon it fitted instantly to the skin: Hey presto, you say? One D model, or it could be! Or you prefer the B, perhaps? And he threw over another in green camouflage, catching the D skin as it dropped to the floor. Norbert stood there, mouth agape, taking in the service labels, the crew signatures, the prop arc warnings and the AAF insignia. You could do like Porker and use the same basic model for all three, just add the SLAR as a loadout. Yeah, I got a message this morning from someone Porker who said I could use his flight model Norbert answered. That’s a generous offer, didn’t know he had come back? First Supervisor was puzzled. He hasn’t HubCaap replied, but I sent him Norbert’s screenshots and a couple of my own and he gave me that message to pass on. I’ve got to get on with this now, she’s too clean for a rough strip aircraft. Let me know about the D skin when you’ve thought about it. Actually said Norbert could I take that draft? I’ve had an idea, and could you say thank you to Porker, I’d like that very much!
 
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That afternoon a package marked “air freight” arrived for Norbert; the accompanying note read “Hi. You’ll need to amend the config to suit yours but this is the flight model for the B and C. HubCaap tells me you’re thinking about the D, so I’ve sent that too. All the best and do your own thing if you want to keep your sanity. Porker. Norbert sighed, he’d been avoiding doing the config but it wouldn’t write itself. Then he pulled the lever again: clatter, clatter, boink went the latest crop.

At the end of the following day Norbert arranged a test flight for the C model and looked in again at the corridor. As he expected, the screenshot of the D had provoked a reaction:

“You leave me no option. I am reporting your insolence to the admins and have instructed my lawyers to sue your employers. I recommend you take a position shovelling grease at Arkansas Fried Turkey: you will never work in the FS world again. Rico Brac.

The Big Man joined him on the way out: Everything okay, Norbert? Yeah, although Rico Brac’s threatening to put me out of a job now. Who did you say? asked the senior modeller sharply as he emerged from the commercial forum. Norbert explained what had happened and showed him the message printouts. You go back there and report this guy at once! Don’t leave it any longer! Where’s HubCaap? Probably at his easel The Big Man answered, he said he was working late. The senior modeller disappeared towards the workshop: Norbert had never seen him move so fast.
 
In the arena Norbert filled in the complaint form, including copies of all Rico Brac’s messages. What next? he wondered as the automatic acknowledgement came back. He read more of the replies to his model announcement thread. A number had greeted a possible D version with great enthusiasm, the fire bomber fan had given up and there was more on the Coastguard service with black & white photos of young men with lifejackets sat below a wing. A much odder request for a “Mad Max” biplane variant got his attention: he looked at the picture in disbelief, but that was the same aircraft beneath the CGI.

The message alert flashed again. “Thank you for alerting us to Rico Brac’s activities. Should this member contact you again, forward all messages to us and do not reply to them. Thank you for your cooperation. The admins.” He was about to get up when the light flashed again.

“You worm. Do you think you can get rid of me? I know you, your associates, where you live. You haven’t...”

The message trailed off and there was a sound of bolts being drawn. Norbert turned round just in time to see the seat behind him fall backwards into the floor: all he saw of its occupant was a pair of down-at-heel shoes and with a gurgling wail their owner dropped into the depths: clunk, clunk, clunk, clatter. Rico Brac had been sitting behind him all along.
 
Next morning Norbert was called to the First Supervisor’s office. I hear you’ve been having some bother on a forum? Yeah, I was getting hassle from someone who didn’t want me to build the same model as him. Hah! the supervisor snorted I doubt he’d even started making one. You know you shouldn’t answer any messages like that? That’s what I was told Norbert answered. It’s good advice, and report anyone like that to the forum admins: which one were you at? Norbert told him. They’re a good outfit, the supervisor nodded, pretty strict with their rules but they get a big audience. Between you and me, one of their senior people works here full-time. Who? Norbert asked. That would be telling the supervisor answered, looking at the clock; your air test is in 15 minutes, best get down there! And come and see me when it’s over.

Out on the apron the aircraft was being warmed up and the prop feathering checked. Norbert was embarrassed to see a 3 inch gap below each wheel, but the smell of burnt avtur was intoxicating and his excitement grew as the pilot extended flaps and taxied out to the main runway. The aircraft lifted off in little over 300 yards and climbed steeply away: Norbert followed the test with binoculars for the next twenty minutes as the pilot tested control response, stalling speeds, hands-off stability etc. When it finally taxied back to the workshop, Norbert was elated. Really hard seat, Norbert the pilot remarked. Martin-Bakers, I’m afraid Norbert replied. Ejection seats? You didn’t warn me! They’re only replicas, not armed: and I’m not going to. Okay, I’ve made some notes, but the main thing is the turboprop characteristics, some work to do there.
 
Back in the workshop he headed for the First Supervisor’s office. How did it go? Norbert grinned broadly: Great! Didn’t think it would get me so excited. Well, it’s not that I wanted to talk with you about: one of our oldest workers is retiring. Not the senior modeller? Norbert gasped. No, no, he’ll probably go on ’til they wheel him out wrapped in a rug. It’s Stringbag, and he wants to give someone the chance to buy his toolbox. Your name came out of the hat first. Norbert stared. One of the max size toolboxes? Yes, at a substantial discount. It’s not quite the 2015, but it’s a big step up from Gmax and a lot of extra potential. Frankly, it’s a knockdown price he’s asking: more of a token payment.

In the lunchtime canteen queue the talk was of a troll on the commercial aviation forum, stirring up a lot of trouble, who had been summarily banned. Norbert took little notice until a name was mentioned: Rico Brac. He’ll probably be back before long under a different name someone said. Norbert winced and went to where Stringbag sat with a few grizzled veterans. Eric tell you about me toolbox? he asked over a sausage roll. Yes, how much did you want? Stringbag mentioned a figure. Are you sure, I mean, wow, great! You’ll get it in a month’s time son, I have some stuff to wrap up before I put the carriage clock over the fireplace. I’ll miss this place though, all these fraudsters, and the others cackled loudly.

When Norbert got back to his bench, Emilio was waiting for him. You a gonna clear da trash first? The inbox held another thirty one tins. You pull da lever always at wrong time. I got slice plane ready to cut extra loop: kabang! and I lose da cockpit. I adjust rotation small amount: clatta clatta and wheel is beyond wingtip. I set new materials for glass: chunka chunka chunka and I gotta reinforced concrete. Pull da lever now and we work pianissimo rest of afternoon, okay? You got it Norbert answered, hands raised, and emptied the box once more; images of disappearing shoes flickering across his mind.
 
The contact points were easily corrected, the turboprops less so. There was the spool-up rate, the fuel flow and the prop table and he hadn’t a clue what any of that meant: it was time to visit the Wizard. This strange individual had a workshop of his own beside the exit to the apron and Norbert had never seen behind the incantation-covered doors. With his reputation for arcane learning and esoteric abilities Norbert expected a tall, lean figure with a flowing beard and prominent nose beneath a laser-like gaze. Instead the Wizard was a plump, middle-aged, shortish man in a striped shirt, neatly pressed trousers and highly polished shoes, sat at a plain table between calculator and an assortment of pens with a laptop to the side and a page of neat working in front of him. Yes? Er, I’ve got a turboprop flight model needing some attention and no idea where to start; hoped you might give me some clues, please.

The Wizard blinked from behind large spectacles: Did you make this flight model yourself? No, it’s one I was given. Hmmm, let’s see. Has it been tested? Norbert handed over the pilot’s test notes. Ah, Ed’s handwriting the Wizard remarked with satisfaction; he’s usually thorough. Was this the ugly aircraft from two days ago? I don’t understand contact points myself, they’re too simplistic for me. Norbert flushed. They’ve been fixed already… Good, good, the man replied, then we can get on with the proper stuff. He reached to a high shelf containing Roskam’s complete works, every one leather-bound first editions, and picked out a massive tome. Next the complete parameter list was printed out and laid on the table in a neat pile while the man studied the prop table page. Just put the book on top of the rest, will you? he asked: Norbert did so. A moment later the window blew open and the paper edges fluttered madly. Draughty in here when they’re testing helicopters the Wizard murmured with a wry smile and pushed the sash shut again

It’s not bad overall, he said at last; very like Porker’s version from five years back. It is Porker’s version Norbert stammered, he sent me it this week. I see, the Wizard replied, just a few small adjustments then. We’ve learned some things about turboprops since he was last working. The main problem is we can’t vary the basic engine character. If your model uses the same type as default, well and good. If you use a different variety you’re stuck, unless… Unless what? Norbert asked. Unless you write the flight model yourself in code and SimConnect it, but coding is not my domain. You’d need to talk with a coder who also speaks aerodynamics and there’s only one here: the Lawyer. Norbert thought of the isolated bench in the workshop and the First Supervisor’s warning. So what needs adjusting then? he asked brightly.

First thing in the morning there was a fresh stack of twenty six tins in his inbox: Norbert pulled the lever after removing the memo on statutory holidays. Grazie! called Emilio: Prego, Norbert replied. A new lad in dark glasses was looking closely at the VC: he was the first trainee to choose the big alternative toolbox over Gmax and he was full of questions. Who are you? Norbert asked. Jedi3D the boy answered, how did you build your gauges? Norbert explained the spline & lathe method, but the kid looked at him like he was speaking Serbo-Croat. Don’t you solidify the mesh? Which edges do you sharpen first? Norbert looked straight at him. We don’t do these things in Gmax. How about the joystick buttons, came the next question, how do you make the recesses for them? Norbert started explaining the boolean cuts he’d used but Jedi3D recoiled sharply. Whoah! That’s the dark side!! Norbert sighed. It’s quite good, the lad said, but if you built it in Blender it would be totally amazing! A tall figure in supervisor’s overalls strode up at that moment and cuffed the boy round the ear, knocking his glasses off. I told you to redo that unwrap first thing: get back to your bench at once! he barked. Jedi3D squeaked and scuttled off. I’m the new Third Supervisor the man said. Sorry about that one: he’s keen but needs careful management. I’m to look after him and the rest of the Blender crew. Norbert walked over to the fallen shades. He’s gone without these he said, handing them to the man, who looked closely and groaned. That explains a lot. He held the glasses against the light: they were tinted a dense orange.
 
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The next test flight was that afternoon and the pilot reported himself satisfied with the revised flight model. They then bolted on the SLAR pod for another thirty minute test with the extra fuel tanks added. Norbert was rather subdued: he’d noticed the nosewheel was backwards and turning the wrong way as the B version taxied back to the apron, although all wheels now made proper contact with the ground. He wasn’t regretting following the Wizard’s advice instead of rolling his own code. That morning the Lawyer had been losing an argument with a scenery builder about EULA conditions during tea break: without a pause he had switched to bickering over commas versus semicolons in a readme file until everyone went back to work. He had continued the same pointless argument over lunch and it had taken the Boss to shut him up with a disciplinary warning.

HubCaap was now painting the VC, so Norbert put some screenshots on the forum that afternoon. There was a sharp rise in the number of views, and more comments. “I thought this was the D? These are steam gauges!” “Is that panel 3D?” “That’s pretty good, there wasn’t much room in the left seat.” “I hope you’re adding some wear to that, looks like it just left the factory.” “Yeah, why aren’t there flying controls on the right?” “Tell me that’s a 2D panel, I want to fit a Garmin to it.” “There’s surely a 2D cockpit, I won’t fly without one.” “There’s just got to be a 2D cockpit, I never fly any other way.” The demands for a 2D cockpit grew more insistent and Norbert felt he had to answer. “I’ve built the B/C versions, so the steam gauges are right but this is WIP. I’ve no plans to add a 2D cockpit and a D would need some rework of the cockpit to add the tape gauges for starters. Flight testing is also going well.”“What’s the matter, can’t you do 2D gauges? So pathetic.” “VCs are so much eye candy, serious pilots need a 2D cockpit now.” “I’ve been on FS since 95 and never heard such nonsense. Can’t you see there’s no other way to fly?” Lots more followed, but Norbert had had enough for one day and headed for the exit.

Next morning, after dumping the twenty two tins from his inbox, he headed back to the forum with his hackles up and stomped over to his seat. Ready to post a scorching reply to the 2D crowd, he found he couldn’t open the posting control. Try as he might, there was nothing doing and then he spotted the padlock on the thread title and the message alert flashing: whatever now? “Hello Norbert, I’ve been following your model thread and enjoying the developments with each new screenshot. I’m sorry to lock the thread, but it’s gone off topic and deteriorated badly into personal abuse. This has nothing to do with you, so if you want to start a new thread, please do so. Best wishes, Richard, forum administrator.” Bewildered, he opened the thread again: there were five new pages of posts. The last three had got very bad-tempered indeed as two ‘camps’ finally slandered each other over texturing methods. He felt sure The Big Man would have had something to say about keeping his cool, so he headed back to the workshop.
 
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The big doors were open for Maasdam’s latest model, but there were problems starting the engines and finally the Second Supervisor had the big E-Cont power starter wheeled out. This enormous machine engaged with the propellors and wound them kicking and coughing up to running speed, but this time the two Pegasus radials simply would not fire. There was also an unpleasant screeching sound which got worse the longer the device ran on. It suddenly ground to a halt and Stringbag slowly straightened up from where he’d pulled the power cable. Any oil or fuel in these? he asked. Suddenly the bowser crew were nowhere to be seen.

After commiserating with Maasdam, Norbert met HubCaap by the spray booth to review the VC. There was bad news, nine of his gauge bezels seemed to have the same mapping and the overhead panel was mapped to the floor. He spent half the day re-editing the UVWs while Jedi3D hovered around, burbling about seams and nodes: Norbert began to think he should have armed his model after all – with Hellfires. Finally he hauled the revisions along to HubCaap and tried the previously drawn textures. The ASI background was upside down now, but he could fix that. Great job the painter said, specular textures next!

At long last a packet arrived with a very welcome label on the rear: the veterans’ association had sent him the recordings he wanted and they turned out to be full-bore Dolby TrueHD. Some veteran had very nice recording gear, but Norbert couldn’t open the sound with the workshop mixing desk. Nobody seemed to know what to do until the Third Supervisor made a surprising suggestion. There’s a guy in the Blender crew spends a lot of his free time mixing and dubbing – he’d likely know what to do. The guy did: he added a new plugin and the workshop suddenly echoed with whistling Lycomings. Hoy! someone yelled over the din and Norbert hurriedly plugged a pair of headphones into the desk. Thanks man, I owe you he said: No problem, answered Jedi3D from behind his orange shades.
 
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