The Tape Runners

[Chillhouse]

The Tape Runners

The customs officer blew smoke into my face as he peered in through the driver-side window. I didn't cough. It was an intimidation tactic, and coughing showed weakness. And you don't want to show weakness in front of a customs officer. Or maybe I just take this too seriously.

“So,” he said, his smokey breath assaulting my nose. “No illegal merchandise in the vehicle?”
“No sir,” I said. “Just this order of pillows that needs to get to the customer.”
“Pillows, eh? In a flatbed truck? Wouldn't it just be easier to ship by boat?” He took a drag off his cigarette.
“Well, you know how it is at shipping customs, officer. Takes days to get through there. Now, these are hand-made pillows stuffed with premium all-Canadian goose feathers. If we shipped by boat all the time then we'd never be able to compete with those mass production companies. It's a shame what pillow-making has become, you know what I mean?”
“Don't I.” He eyed me through his mirrored aviators, suckin' on that cancer stick. I was looking straight ahead, trying not to sweat. I couldn't so much as see him as I could feel him. The heat from his gaze was boring into the side of my head. No matter how many times I did this, I still wasn't used to it. “Listen,” he said. “Since it's just pillows back there, I guess you wouldn't mind if I took a little look.”
“Not at all... officer.”

He finaly stopped leaning into my window and ambled on to the back of the truck. He got up onto the flatbed and started going through the pillows. I looked in the rear-view mirror, watching his hands go back and forth as he felt up the pillows. My foot rested on the gas pedal, the other on the clutch, and my hand on the gear stick. I was ready to make a clear getway if he found anything.

I watched his hands, untill, suddenly, he stopped. What was he looking at? I inhaled sharply, and a single bead of sweat trickled it's way down the side of my face. This was it. I was gonna make a run for it.

But I didn't. And there was no need to. He didn't pull out his gun. He didn't fire through the cab's back window into my head. He just hopped off and made his way back to the driver's side window.
“That's it then officer?” I asked.
“Yeah, that's it,” he said, handing me back my Citizenship Card. My fake Citizenship Card. I wasn't American anymore. I was done with this place, and I left long ago. Only to return periodicaly to make a shit load of cash.

He backed off and waved me forward. I watched in the mirror as he watched me go. He was looking at me funny. 'Course, it's hard to tell when they all wear aviator glasses. I drove off from the customs depot and back onto the highway.

There were some real amateur smugglers out there. I thought I was the best. While some people smuggled only small bits at a time; with false bottom suitcases and hidden compartments in cars; I smuggled the bigtime, using flatbeds and transport trucks. Even by boat sometimes. I could make a couple mill in one run, easy. Looking back on it, though, I made a lot of mistakes. I got greedy. The plan was to make some money then call it quits. But I never stopped. And I got cocky since I was never caught.
They called us Tape Runners. And we made a business out of smuggling those diapers across the US-Canadian border for years.

[babymikey]

hmm looks like a good start to something cant wait to see were it goes

[Wegs]

Wow, I'm interested in how diapers are illegal in there. Great start.

[BabyGrizzy]

It looks good so far...

[Chillhouse]

Episode Two

I was on my way to my biggest score yet. Four million for three thousand diapers. All in a couple of trips, of course. My client was a private man, but he lived near the boarder, so that made it easier to get to him than other people I've smuggled for. Less risky too because I didn't have to go through any checkpoints besides the initial customs depot.

I passed a billboard along the side of the highway. The customs officer on it had a permanent stern look on his face, his arms folded, and his eyes locked on the road to create the illusion that he was starring at the people driving by. It read beside him in bold print: "White? Fluffy? More Dangerous Than You Would Think." Overkill, I thought, since by then pretty much the entire population knew the dangers of diapers and the people who wear them.

I'm not sure when it started. Sometime back in 2012 probably. The internet brought a whole more to the attention of the public than they cared to know. Reports of people using diapers and incorporating children into their sick fantasies started staying in everyone's minds. The media saw an opening and ran with it. People wanted to tune in and hear about how these sick fucks were being dealt with.
'Run! Hide! This could happen to your kids. More, tonight at 10.'
After that super polymer, a form of polyacrylic acid, was created, well, things just went downhill from there.

I swerved to avoid hitting a skunk in the middle of the road. It was already dead, head crushed in, but I swerved anyway.

It wasn't long before a full-on, nation-wide witch hunt was started. In the eyes of the American Public, these 'Adult Babies' and 'Diaper Lovers' were nothing more than pedophiles who wanted to rape any kid wearing a diaper in the tri-state area. And they would do it too, yea, if they had the chance. That's what everyone though. Well, not everyone, but the majority drowned out anyone with a voice of reason. The polymer was used to create new diapers for kids and adults alike. No matter the need, no matter the age, all your prayers were answered with a diaper the thickness of a normal pair of underpants. So they started signing off laws left and right, until, finally, when all was said and done, normal diapers were banned outright. Possession of diapers was a federal offense with a penalty of up to a maximum of 20 years in jail. Not only that, you were put on the sex offenders registry list, had your face plastered up all over newspapers and on television, and had your good name dragged through the mud. You were disgraced. The public made sure to that.

Mass hysteria? They didn't think so.
They didn't care if you got off on adult chicks wearing diapers or just the diapers themselves. All they saw were poor, lonely, old bastards jerkin' themselves to items of innocence. They were child molesters. And we all know what happens to child molesters in jail.


There was no morality involved in what I was doing. I had left the states long before all that. I just saw a business opening and took it. Diapers became a part of the ever increasing pile of contraband found on the shelves of the black market. The majority was happy, and that's all that mattered to the shit faces in Washington. They could go on living their lives at the top, pretending to call the shots while they pandered to the masses. Hey, whatever gets you the votes.

I passed a sign. Sixty miles to Lansing, Michigan. I converted to kilometers in my head. It wasn't long, now.

[VR Wolf]

Rather Intresting. It was a good read, and definitly a diffrent plot line than most. I hope this turns out well, keep up the good work.