Try explaining this suitcase to the TSA. “What ya got in there?” Oh crap. “Nothin’ sir. Please don’t grope my balls.” The Orwellian mongoloid snaps his glove on his wrist and winks at the Obama poster on the wall, also blowing a kiss. Then he turns back to you. “Looks like your smuggling some heads in their sir. You wanna step aside so I can give you a cavity search?” You scratch your head. “Oh, well that’s not so bad. I go to the dentist regularly. Hey wait just a-”

It all ends with the pair of you smoking a cigarette in an empty room. You, bent over a table, with your pants at your ankles and the TSA goon removing his soiled glove. You start to speak, but he gently puts a finger to your lips as your eyes meet. “Shhhhhhhhh.”, he whispers. “No words.”