The Great Biscoff Crisis of 2026

Welcome to the Grumpy Stew podcast, the only aviation podcast fueled entirely by caffeine, smoldering resentment and maybe just a little bit of mid-Turbulence rage. This is episode 58. Apparently, Delta is cutting beverage a snack service on the ultra short flights and the media has reacted like it's the fall of Rome. But before we get to the great biscoff crisis of 2026, we need to discuss another headline and that's coming up. A frontier plane struck a pedestrian on the runway. It shouldn't laugh, but stick with me here. A pedestrian on a runway in Denver, they were going to Los Angeles or something, but they hit a person. But the media kept using the term pedestrian, which is fascinating terminology. Because when I hear pedestrian, I picture someone cross in the street while holding a mocha frat from Starbucks. Not somebody free-ranging across an active runway. In front of an air bus graining at them at 120 miles an hour, there aren't a pedestrians on runway 27. Hate to break it to you. Worth a little airport crosswalks out there. The media finally corrected it and it's been ruled a suicide, but the media kept saying pedestrian. Like there's a whole foods out there by the taxiway or something. They latched onto that term pedestrian pedestrian. The guy apparently reached the perimeter fence, got onto the active runway and the frontier aircraft struck him during their takeoff roll, which is a bizarre situation. But also raises several questions about how exactly we ended up with a free-ranging human near a moving aircraft. And honestly, can I just say real quick, unbelievably rude, unbelievably rude. The laying an entire plane full of people going to Los Angeles by moving in front of an aircraft on an active runway. People are trying to make connections. They got places to be. Look, if you are thinking of unalliving yourself first, get some help. Let's be real here. But if you do decide to go through with it, don't do it in public. If you're going to have a personal crisis, don't do it in public. Don't involve 180 strangers and a jet engine. Just thinking out loud here. Because it's rude. Unbelievably rude to inconvenience hundreds of people. Why? You think you're making some sort of statement? You're not. You're not making a statement. You're not that special. No one cares. And let's just say you do decide to go through with it and you fuck it up. What then? Then it's just one more thing you suck at. So if you're going to go through with it, have some fun, get creative. Make people say, wow, that guy went out with that bang. You know what I mean? Leave an interesting note. It could be something like, to those of you who did this to me, you know who you are, sign the bloated corpse in the garage. Have some fun. But don't inconvenience hundreds of people. Just because you had a rough day, that's just rude. Unallive yourself with some dignity. It's don't inconvenience hundreds of people. It's just stupid. People I've noticed genuinely do not know how to function in public anymore. I mean, they're killing themselves in front of kids and a jet engine. I think that qualifies as not functioning in public. But I swear half these people act like they've never been to a restaurant before, let alone a plane. Look, I fly international. That's my bread and butter. That's what I do for a living. I know these people didn't swim to the United States. That they act like total fucking morons, like they've never been on a plane before. I know they've been on a plane before. This is a group of people who need to be removed from society permanently. Okay? I'll be working in business class and I'll hand some dick, some schmuck, a professionally printed document containing all available food and drink options. It's called a menu. Perhaps you're familiar with the term. I'll hand them the menu. I'll say, take a look at the menu and I'll come back in a few moments and confirm your choices. I come back asking what they want. What do they say? What do they say? Take a guess at what they say. They say, "What do you have?" It's on the fucking menu I just handed you two minutes ago. That was it. That was the briefing. Try reading. What the fucking menu? Apparently Greg is still solving the great pasta equation. This is some complicated shit. And these people exist in society. They drive, they vote. They hold jobs somehow. Jobs with enough income, by the way, to afford a business class ticket on a major airline. What the fuck am I doing wrong here? Never been anywhere before, not even a restaurant with actual linen napkins and tablecloths. Do you have many people? I have seen. Remove the tablecloth from the trade table and put it on the lap because they thought it was an napkin. I couldn't tell you how many people I've seen do that. It's unreal. Yet, Jethro over here just decided he's going to splurge and trade himself and give himself a nice business class ticket. No. No, Jethro. Step one. Learn to read. That's step one. And then from there, you just proceed from that point. Meanwhile, I'm over here triple checking everything. Greg is eating crayons and two A asking what comes with the chicken. It's bizarre behavior. Now here's a group of societal credents who need to be scheduled for a fatal beating at the earliest possible convenience. The dickheads. The dickheads who blast media from their phone and public. Full volume, no earphones, not a single fuck given. Draw audio blasting into civilization. They're like, "Look, Dave, the second season of Fisting in America is out." Okay, good for you. Use some fucking earphones because no one else wants to hear that. No one wants to hear what you're watching. Nobody gives a shit about your favorite show. You're not that important. You are not special. And you're not alone in this metal fucking tube. Believe it or not, there are other people around you with ears. Most of them can hear things. It's annoying. By the way, parents, parents, listen up. You need to wear earphones and your stupid fucking kid needs to wear earphones. Period. I should not be assaulted with cocoa melon at 38,000 feet. That's a, that is psychological warfare. Pretty sure that's a violation of the Geneva Convention. I feel like I'm a fucking prisoner in a POW camp being forced to watch propaganda media. I mean, it is outrageous. Use some fucking earphones. I speak for everyone on this. Okay. The major crisis at Delta. This is huge news. There's been a massive media meltdown over this. Get this. I hope you're sitting down when you're listening to this. Delta is removing snack and beverage service on super short flights. Hey, I'm just a messenger. Don't blame me. Don't blame me. I don't make these decisions. I'm just a messenger. I'm just some guy in a small room talking into a microphone. And apparently this supplies to flights under 350 miles. I know it's awful. It's awful, which means that people are losing their minds over not getting a free snack and a drink on a flight under an hour. They're losing their absolute shit over this. Listen, Bill, it takes you longer to get to the goddamn airport, clear security and go to the gate than your actual fucking flight. We're talking 35, 40, 50 minutes tops, tops, 50 minutes. People are acting like the stupid little snack is federally mandated or something. You will survive without your emotional support, biscoff cookie. I promise. The flight isn't that long. This isn't the fucking Oregon Trail or something for Christ's sake. Nobody's dying from a lack of gender ale between Orlando and Miami. Okay? And apparently this is emotionally devastated the entire nation. People are acting like Delta announced a removing the seats from the plane or something and you got to stand there. Nobody can just be mildly annoyed anymore. Community inconvenience becomes a major TikTok documentary, actual tears. Soft piano music in the background, perhaps some interpretive dance. You're not in a goddamn gulag stacey. You won't perish. This isn't Schindler's list. It's a biscoff cookie. You can go to public and buy them by the brick. Okay? Bring your own. It won't kill you. And then up there, it's the pill water. It just, you know, these are some free loading assholes who need to be quarantined. The pill water people, the people who board the plane and suddenly discover they need a, they need water for a pill. Like the medication just materialized at their seat. They just discovered the pill. They knew they were leaving the house today. They knew they were going to the airport. They knew they were flying somewhere. Getting water for your little mystery tablet that apparently snuck up on you. You know what I say to these people? Sorry. All out of pill water. Eh, what can you do? Didn't get catered with the pill water today. Look, they just want something for free. That's really the bottom line. And they want it immediately upon boarding. They want their free shit right away. Well, grumpy don't play that. I'm trying to get a plane out on time. I don't have to listen to the endless whining about connections. I'm not about to drop everything I'm doing to go fetch little bottles of pill water. Fuck them. They can take their mystery pill with their beverage service. They can wait 30 minutes and won't fucking kill them. And don't give me this fucking shit that, you know, about bottles of water being expensive in the airport. If you can't afford a $9 bottle of water, you can't afford to fly. I swear to jetwee Jesus, some of these people prepare for travel like they were kidnapped unexpectedly, like they didn't know they're going somewhere. And unfortunately, I got some bad news. Summer flying is upon us. The amateur travelers are emerging from hibernation. It's gate life season. It's like a fucking biblical plague. It's pestilence at Bravo 42. It's bad enough that gatoria looks like a leper colony. But now that you have group 9 standing in the boarding lane 40 minutes early, like the aircraft is going to leave without them in the next two minutes. And then they want to take a piss during boarding instead of using one of thousands of actual toilets in the fucking terminal. I need to calm down. Have airports become escape rooms designed by exhausted satis or something? Use the goddamn toilet and the goddamn terminal before we board the goddamn flight. Grab a snack, get your bottle of pill water. I don't care if you have to mortgage your house to get it. Get your own bottle. Be self-sufficient. You won't drop dead. Trust me. I do this shift for a living and I'm not that lucky that you will drop dead right before the flight. I am not that lucky. I can't care and fucking to you that. These people have made flying so complicated. All it is is getting in a plane and sitting there. That's it. That's all you got to do. Get in, put your crap away and sit there. That is it. They just make it so fucking complicated. The actual flying is the easiest part. Quite frankly, it's just everything else surrounding it that sucks a life out of you. Nobody experiences mild inconvenience anymore. They can't handle it. They cannot handle any kind of adversity at all anymore ever. Period. Everything becomes a national emergency on TikTok. And quite honestly, maybe the runway pedestrian thing wasn't such a bad idea. I mean, I can kind of see what the guy was thinking now. These people can't even process drink choices anymore. I'll have a black coffee with milk and sugar. That's not black coffee, dickhead. That's coffee with milk and sugar. Once you add shit to the coffee, it's no longer black. It comes out black. That's how it's brewed. It's brewed black. It doesn't have milk in it. Fucking retard. You know, when you come up to a couple and ask them what they want to drink and they look at each other, like they got a hold of meeting. What are you going to have? I don't know. I don't know. What do you think you're going to have? I don't know. It's ginger ale, Greg. It's not that complicated. And pretzels. It's, it's basic shit. Basic fucking shit. You don't know what you want to drink from one moment to the next. You don't need your wife's permission to have a drink. If you want to have a drink, just say you want a drink. Tell me, you want to be or fine. You don't need your wife's fucking permission. She doesn't, she doesn't need yours. So get what you want. You don't have to have a fucking meeting. You don't need a permission structure to have a drink. God damn. Listen. I don't know why this is so difficult and complicated. Human beings have crossed entire oceans and wooden boats. They died from the shits. The literal shits, they literally shit themselves to death at sea. Now people are producing TikTok documentaries with emotions and like panning and fading and everything. Because Delta didn't hand them a biscoph cooking on a 34 minute flight and you fucking kidding me? Listen carefully and take a moment to absorb what I'm about to say. You can go 20 minutes. You will survive 20 fucking minutes without a constant supply of fluids and pretzels, okay? You will live. I promise. Like I said before, I'm not that fucking lucky. Shit really pisses me off.