"…These blankets are unlike anything you've ever seen before. The great quilt makers of the Desert are masters of their art, and nobody, and I mean nobody, can copy their mastered techniques…"
The smuggler kept saying some nonsense to the alcohol-breathed guard, and it seemed to start working.
The alcohol-breathed guard kept rubbing his chin, occasionally nodding his head, and even he felt a slight itch in his throat that made him want to believe the smuggler's exaggerated tales.
Meanwhile.
"There are a couple more crates at the back!"
A guard shouted inside the wagon, and then he pushed some crates out of his way and made his way to the back of the wagon.
When the smuggler heard that, he started sweating slightly, and then he forced a smile.
"How long will this take? I've got to get my wares to the 29th floor as soon as possible."
"It will take as long as necessary!"
The alcohol-breathed guard shouted.
