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Stepmom devises a plan.

The agreement was that she had to fly, alone, to the country of her choice, figure out the best way to smuggle the cocaine, return to the US, and then, in front of her friends, present the evidence.

So...why the cocaine? Hell...Trish could buy a kilo of cocaine, no problem. Ten kilos...maybe even 20. She was doing this dare because her spoiled life had addicted her to being outrageous. She loved putting herself into dangerous situations...the more bizarre the better. She loved it when people looked at her and said "Oh my God! Do you see what's she's doing?" So...for nothing more than bragging rights over doing something that her party friends would never dare do themselves...and for having the satisfaction of watching a room full of people get high on cocaine that she herself had delivered, Trish had decided to make the trip.

Her boyfriend's drug source was the one who set Trish up with a contact in Panama. At first she thought that she was going to carry the cocaine in a concealed suitcase, but the Panamanian told her that she'd be better off swallowing the cocaine in pellets...much less likely to get caught. When the rich girl showed a hint of reluctance the dealer noted:

"I thought you wanted to have the real drug smuggling experience. This is it muchacha: it's the way we move drugs in our organization."

So...Trish spent a couple of days in Panama City getting ready for her adventure. She practiced swallowing whole grapes and hotdog pieces until she could overcome her gagging reflex. Finally she was ready...she swallowed 90 grape-sized pellets of cocaine, all of them wrapped in bluish plastic and tightly sealed on the ends. She headed to the airport and boarded her flight, thinking how great it would be to see everyone's faces when they realized how she had brought them their coke.

Nope...24 years on the planet had not taught Trish Bousquet any common sense whatsoever.


Trish' pleasant thoughts were interrupted when suddenly the plane jerked. Then there was a strange series of clicks. The warning lights came on. Then came a loud whooshing sound. The aircraft began rocking from side to side as the cabin filled with the frightened murmurings of the passengers.

The pilots managed to get the rocking under control after a few minutes, but everyone could see that the aircraft was losing altitude. The plane approached the ocean, then leveled off only a few hundred feet above the water. The pilot finally announced the obvious: the aircraft was having mechanical difficulties and would have to make an emergency landing.

"Folks...looks like we're cleared for an emergency landing in Santa Eduviges. We'll be touching down in about five minutes."

The sudden drop in altitude made Trish sick. A spasm of pain worked through her intestines. Unlike her fellow passengers, she was not frightened by the whooshing and strange noises coming from the plane...because she had a much more immediate problem; trying not to throw up. This was not good. Trish had been confident of making to Miami, but she knew that she could not keep the pellets down if her plane had to make an extra stop. The aching and nausea sweeping through her body made her wonder if what she was doing was really such a great idea, if taking such a risk really was worth the bragging rights she could enjoy if she made it home.

The plane hit the runway with a jolt. The pilots immediately hit the reverse thrusters. The aircraft tilted to the right and some of the passengers started screaming. Barely, but just barely, the pilots managed to correct the direction and avoid touching the wing on the ground. There was another scary jolt as the left wheels hit the pavement. There was a bounce, a distinct pop, and then, finally, all the plane's wheels were safely on the pavement and the aircraft slowed. The screaming changed over to nervous cheering and clapping.

The pilots pulled up to a set of small buildings and a newly-built control tower. With a sigh of relief the cockpit crew announced:

"Well, folks.

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