The pilot

Earlier this month something bizarre had happened. While the pilot was in the restroom, an Air India aircraft, flying from Dubai to Pune and flying over Muscat at that point of time, descended 7,000 feet. The moment I read this the first thing that struck me was: what was going on in the pilot's brain during the descent?

It must have been somewhat like this:
"I hate being a pilot. Some day my bladder shall give in and I shall have all sorts of kidney disorders."
"Aaah, finally. It's been a long wait."

"Aaaaaaaaaah. Bliss."

"What the hell?"
"Why is the pot trying to run away from me?"
"It must be inside my mind. It's there only."
"Hell, why is this like a Fenris wheel? Why does my stomach suddenly feel empty?"
"Are we falling?"
"We can't really be falling, can we?"
"Damn, why is my bladder so full today? I shouldn't have had that beer before taking off."
"Come on, we must really be descending: but why now?"
"Gosh, this might be an accident. If that's the case then I need to rush back."
"If only my bladder would empty itself earlier... I really don't want to die peeing..."
"This must be several thousand feet."
"Finally! If only those extra end-of-action droplets oozed out a bit faster..."
"Why doesn't this damned flush work? Do I need to press harder?"
"What's that darned co-pilot doing?"
"Why can't they make smoother flushes?"
"Now, do I need to wipe off those couple of droplets from the rim of the pot right now, or can that wait...?"
"Argh, why doesn't this darned door open...?"
"Stop knocking on the door, I'm fully aware that this is an emergency and I should rush. STOP KNOCKING!"
"Jeez, now my fly got stuck midway...!"
"YES, I'M COMING! No, that wasn't what I meant..."