Routine TSA Check

Ma’am. Ma’am!" The rotund TSA agent snaps his fingers. “I’m gonna need you to remove your shoes.” His tone is curt and demanding. His name tag reads: Darnell Darius Huff.

“Oh.” 26-year-old Trixie Stompette glances at the uniformed man, then down at her tasteful Michael Kors flats. “I thought we didn’t need to do that anymore.”

“Yeah, well you do.” He curls his fingers. “Come over here. This way.”

Sheepish, Trixie steps out of the line and walks over. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Just a randomly selected check, ma’am. Standard procedure.”

“Okay…” She bends to reach for the shoe.

“Woah!” Darnell throws up his hands.

She freezes. “What?”

“No sudden movements. Please. I don’t know if we’ll need to swab for explosives.”

Trixie scoffs. “Explosives?”

“I’m gonna need you to place your foot right here.” He taps the knee high bench beside him.

“Okay…” She lifts her foot and rests it on the bench. “If I did something wrong or suspicious, I’d really like to know. I got the Pre-Check to avoid this.”

“Ssshh.” He crouches down, his stubbled, unshaven face hovering mere inches from her bare ankle.

“Um.”

“This is a delicate operation. It requires total concentration—absolute silence.”

Trixie looks around the bustling airport, perplexed. “Silence? We’re in LaGuardia—EEEP!”

With the wide-eyed, sweat-soaked focus of Indiana Jones reaching for the Chachapoyan Fertility Idol, Darnell carefully lifts her heel and languidly peels the flat away. Surprised, mortified even, Trixie pinches her lips, her cheeks flushing beat red.

Once separated, he inspects the insole. “Hmm. Good. Good. No sign of white powder.”

Trixie’s eyes flick to passing travelers. “Is this really necessary—”

Darnell plants his nose in the shoe and inhales like a Dyson Tornado Vac. “SNNNNNNRRRRRKKKKKK!!!”

“Oh.” Trixie whispers in quiet horror. “My god.”

“RARGH!” Darius yanks his head back, snarling like a ravenous beast. “All clear on the scent check. Woo!”

“Um. I’d like to get back in line. Right now please.”

“Almost done,” Darnell says. “I’ll need to search the crevices of those million dollar toes.”

Trixie scowls. “Look, I don’t know what kind of sick game this is, but I’m not going to let you—” She blinks. “Wait. Million dollar?”

Darnell looms over those pretty, pedicured digits, nearly salivating. “Uh huh.”

Trixie twirls a lock of blonde hair, giggling. “Really?”

He looks up. “If you had an OnlyFans, I’d blow my whole paycheck, every month. And every day, every hour, I’d blow my—”

“Darnell!” A woman shouts in a thick Southern accent.

Trixie and Darnell look up to see a 200 pound TSA supervisor barreling straight for them. “I knew that was you! I fired your toe-sucking, snow-bunny-bunion-huffin’ ass! Sneaking back in here is a felony, Godammit!”

“…later.” Darnell drops Trixie’s foot and takes off running. He waddle-strides ten feet before a security guard body checks him into a stack of grey bins.

Trixie covers her mouth. “Oh my.”

“Sorry about that.” The TSA supervisor picks up the shoe and hands it back. “That foot fondlin’ freak has been a pain in our ass for a hot minute. Go on through.”

Once aboard her plane, Trixie slips into the lavatory and removes her shoe—the one Darnell didn’t snort. She checks the wires connected to a device tucked beneath the sole. A homemade IED. Primed and ready to explode.

“30,000 feet,” she whispers. “And then…” Her eyes drift down to her naked foot.

His voice echoes in her mind. “Million. Dollar. Toes.”

“Hm.” She takes out her phone, snaps a picture, and posts it on the gram. In less than a minute, a 100 likes roll in. And then a comment.

A rando writes: 𝘐’𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯, 𝘫𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘦𝘫𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦.

“Ma’am.” A flight attendant knocks on the lavatory door. “We’re taking off soon. Please return to your seat.”

Trixie glances at the door then back at her phone. 300 likes. Then 500. A thousand. She rips out the wires, flushes them down the toilet, and returns to her seat.

Once settled, Trixie slips off her shoe, snaps another pic, and uploads. Once more, the likes roll in. She giggles with delight.

“Well look at those.” The Elderly man sitting beside her leans over, a smirk playing on his thin lips. “You know how to blow ’em away, don’t you honey?” Ω