The Hidden Compartment

The pale drunk man got down from his bright red truck. Boxes were stowed in the back filled with Styrofoam and picture frames. The Styrofoam shaped as two thumbs stuck together, the picture frames with shiny rims and photos of one bizarre girl. Underneath lay a hidden compartment not even a detective would have noticed. The shade of color was EXACTLY the same as the inside of the box. The only way to open the hidden compartment was either rip through three inches of paper...or just pulling on the tiny latch that you couldn't see with the naked eye in the dark.

"Hurry up you 'Hic' fools! Before the officials come apprehend us on their theory of us conspiring! My God! Just because the country is having an anarchy doesn't mean you have time to laze 'Hic' around!" The man had said screaming it loud enough for the whole border of Mexico to hear. He staggered and pointed to the men carrying the boxes to another motor vehicle. One man-who didn't have the time to tie his shoe-slipped and slid across the concrete floor scraping his knee. The box spun counter-clockwise and eventually hit a tree as it spread the contents around. Suddenly white powder poured onto the street from the secret compartment. Many grams of smuggled in powder could only mean one thing...drugs. Of course the men had no idea what they were really smuggling. After the spill all the men picked up their last boxes and dumped them onto the cold night street. The man who had scraped his knee got up (limping) and lit a match. They all stomped away home as the fire burned profusely, and the pale man...had collapsed.