They frisk the young man in business suit, follow him like a shadow.
He eats sandwich and drinks coffee at the cafeteria. One of the gunmen
asks, "Any papayas? Papayas not allowed."
"I'm not under the influence of jet lag," the young man says, shows
them his laptop, his dresses and a painting. "I'm carrying just this.
I've got the painting on the laptop, too, for your kind information."
They stare at the painting: a liveried bartender serving drink to a
royal patron, with a peacock, some parrots, and a deer with
exaggerated eyes in the background.
"You'll not be allowed to see a lunar eclipse or the comet. Not even
on your laptop," the gunman says, working a toothpick.
"How'll you ever know that?" the young man asks.
"We'll follow you. You take bananas, beer, even condoms," the gunman
says, "but dark goggles not allowed."
They urge him through the metal detector and, not finding anything on
him they say, "We hope you'll not be dangerous."
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