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Description

Scarfing down an Egg McMuffin from the Toronto Airport's McDonald's, John Palin looked down at the large red suitcase by his feet. Strangely, he was worried what he was planning to do today. But how could he be worried? He'd done a hundred jobs like this before, and he had the entire thing planned out. He'd already gotten the suitcase out of Trinidad. All he had to do was sneak it past security and deliver it to his employer. Sure, he was more used to operating in smaller countries' airports, which usually had minimal security, but thousands of contraband items were smuggled into big countries like this every day. Discreetly securing the suitcase to the inside of his trenchcoat, John assured himself that this he would pull off this job smoothly... as long as his partner would do his part when he arrived.
As he approached security, he reminded himself that his wealthy employer had probably paid off all of the security staff to turn a blind eye to any suspicious behaviour by men of John's description. But when he had placed all of his loose luggage on the conveyor belt and was about to step through the metal detector, a security guard, whose name tag read, “Wyatt”, noticed the bulge in John's trenchcoat and asked, “Sir, is that a suitcase under your trenchcoat?”
Cursing under his breath, John remembered that while it was his employer's part in the operation to bribe away interference from airport staff, that selfsame employer also had a reputation of being a cheap bastard.
“Oh, right”, John said. “I must have forgot it was there! Silly me”.
John removed the suitcase from his trenchcoat, but instead of putting them on the conveyor belt, just stood there.
“Sir, aren't you going to put your-” the Wyatt began, but John immediately interjected, “I can't put this through the x-ray machine!”
“May I ask why not, sir?”
Trying the come up with something quick, John said, “Because... the... clothes in this bag are... made of a VERY sensitive fabric that will... blow up if irradiated”.
“Blow up”, Wyatt said skeptically.
“Yes, that's right”.
“X-rays aren't that radioactive, sir”.
John was banking on the hope that this guard was an undereducated thug. Evidently, this was not the case.
“Are you sure? It's a VERY sensitive fabric...”
“Sir, do you honestly-”
Panicking, John blurted out, “I'M NOT SMUGGLING A CROCODILE!!”
The Wyatt stared at
John, clearly confused before asking, “Excuse me, sir?”
“Excuse what?”
“Why did you say you're not smuggling a crocodile?”
“Oh, no reason, I'm just making polite conversation”.
“Of course you are sir”, Wyatt said. “Now if you would please open your suitcase please?”
“I don't need to-” John began, but was interrupted by something inside the suitcase thrashing about violently. “Aw shit, the sedatives wore off!”
“Sedatives, sir?”
“Yes, I keep my clothes sedated so they don't... bite me when I'm wearing them”.
“Sir, this has gone on long enough. Please open the suitcase and take your shoes off as well”.
“What? What do I have to take my shoes off for? Do I look like a terrorist to you?”
“There isn't an exact standard for what terrorists look like, sir. Please take off your shoes”.
Then, right on cue, something began squirming around in John's shoes and he began dancing around as a result.
Even sure as he was that he was probably going to regret asking, the Wyatt asked, “Sir, what ARE you doing?”
But before John could even THINK of an excuse, something inside of his backpack began flapping around and loudly squawking. The occurrence was so sudden that John slipped and fell, knocking his shoes off, releasing several snakes.
Talking into his walkie-talkie, the security guard said, “Someone call animal control and the police, there are several snakes loose in the airport”. He then pulled John to his feet and said, “This
has gone on long enough, open the backpack and the suitcase”.
Feeling hopeless and depressed by how hopelessly wrong this one job had gotten, John resigned himself to his fate and opened both pieces of luggage, revealing a small crocodile with its jaws bound shut and three macaws with their wings tied.
Knowing that John had no excuse at this point, the security guard said, “This your first time smuggling animals, isn't it?”
“Well, my first trying so many at the same time”, John admitted.
Just then, another security guard approached the two and said, “Wyatt, we've got a problem”.
“What is it, George?”
“Something was flown in here impromptu by a pilot whose story didn't check in, so we investigated what he was delivering, and... it got loose”.
“What got loose?”
Wyatt's question was answered when an Indian elephant suddenly charged through one of the walls.

Description

Scarfing down an Egg McMuffin from the Toronto Airport's McDonald's, John Palin looked down at the large red suitcase by his feet. Strangely, he was worried what he was planning to do today. But how could he be worried? He'd done a hundred jobs like this before, and he had the entire thing planned out. He'd already gotten the suitcase out of Trinidad. All he had to do was sneak it past security and deliver it to his employer. Sure, he was more used to operating in smaller countries' airports, which usually had minimal security, but thousands of contraband items were smuggled into big countries like this every day. Discreetly securing the suitcase to the inside of his trenchcoat, John assured himself that this he would pull off this job smoothly... as long as his partner would do his part when he arrived.
As he approached security, he reminded himself that his wealthy employer had probably paid off all of the security staff to turn a blind eye to any suspicious behaviour by men of John's description. But when he had placed all of his loose luggage on the conveyor belt and was about to step through the metal detector, a security guard, whose name tag read, “Wyatt”, noticed the bulge in John's trenchcoat and asked, “Sir, is that a suitcase under your trenchcoat?”
Cursing under his breath, John remembered that while it was his employer's part in the operation to bribe away interference from airport staff, that selfsame employer also had a reputation of being a cheap bastard.
“Oh, right”, John said. “I must have forgot it was there! Silly me”.
John removed the suitcase from his trenchcoat, but instead of putting them on the conveyor belt, just stood there.
“Sir, aren't you going to put your-” the Wyatt began, but John immediately interjected, “I can't put this through the x-ray machine!”
“May I ask why not, sir?”
Trying the come up with something quick, John said, “Because... the... clothes in this bag are... made of a VERY sensitive fabric that will... blow up if irradiated”.
“Blow up”, Wyatt said skeptically.
“Yes, that's right”.
“X-rays aren't that radioactive, sir”.
John was banking on the hope that this guard was an undereducated thug. Evidently, this was not the case.
“Are you sure? It's a VERY sensitive fabric...”
“Sir, do you honestly-”
Panicking, John blurted out, “I'M NOT SMUGGLING A CROCODILE!!”
The Wyatt stared at
John, clearly confused before asking, “Excuse me, sir?”
“Excuse what?”
“Why did you say you're not smuggling a crocodile?”
“Oh, no reason, I'm just making polite conversation”.
“Of course you are sir”, Wyatt said. “Now if you would please open your suitcase please?”
“I don't need to-” John began, but was interrupted by something inside the suitcase thrashing about violently. “Aw shit, the sedatives wore off!”
“Sedatives, sir?”
“Yes, I keep my clothes sedated so they don't... bite me when I'm wearing them”.
“Sir, this has gone on long enough. Please open the suitcase and take your shoes off as well”.
“What? What do I have to take my shoes off for? Do I look like a terrorist to you?”
“There isn't an exact standard for what terrorists look like, sir. Please take off your shoes”.
Then, right on cue, something began squirming around in John's shoes and he began dancing around as a result.
Even sure as he was that he was probably going to regret asking, the Wyatt asked, “Sir, what ARE you doing?”
But before John could even THINK of an excuse, something inside of his backpack began flapping around and loudly squawking. The occurrence was so sudden that John slipped and fell, knocking his shoes off, releasing several snakes.
Talking into his walkie-talkie, the security guard said, “Someone call animal control and the police, there are several snakes loose in the airport”. He then pulled John to his feet and said, “This
has gone on long enough, open the backpack and the suitcase”.
Feeling hopeless and depressed by how hopelessly wrong this one job had gotten, John resigned himself to his fate and opened both pieces of luggage, revealing a small crocodile with its jaws bound shut and three macaws with their wings tied.
Knowing that John had no excuse at this point, the security guard said, “This your first time smuggling animals, isn't it?”
“Well, my first trying so many at the same time”, John admitted.
Just then, another security guard approached the two and said, “Wyatt, we've got a problem”.
“What is it, George?”
“Something was flown in here impromptu by a pilot whose story didn't check in, so we investigated what he was delivering, and... it got loose”.
“What got loose?”
Wyatt's question was answered when an Indian elephant suddenly charged through one of the walls.