The routine was impossible. Bob Hoover would take off in his Rockwell Shrike Commander — a twin-engine business aircraft, not an aerobatic plane — climb to altitude, and shut both engines off. Then, on nothing but momentum and gravity, he would loop, roll, fly inverted, and pour iced tea from a thermos into a glass, all without spilling a drop. He would then land the dead aircraft, engines still off. The crowd, which had been watching in paralysed silence, would erupt.