the smuggler’s bible


The presents are locked in a big ol’ cage surrounded by barbed wire and armed security—the real ‘tactical boots’ kind, not the ‘plastic badge’ kind.

“You think they’ll still try for it?”

“Oh yeah,” Thorburn says, swinging a flood lamp over the pile. “They’ll come. They want the toys real bad. It’s instinct. They’re just wired that way.”

The rookie shivers. “I’ve never shot an elf before.”

“Well, if you freeze up, make it clear somehow that you’re not full of candy,” Thorburn says. “Then click your heels together and make a wish they don’t decide to check anyway.”