A group of Polish delegates went to the USA to take a closer look at the cultivation methods of Texan orange grown in a greenhouse setting nearby Few York, because someone had told them it would work in Poland, as well.

The airport was crowded. Not for the first time, and not the last, the delegates used privileges reserved for women with children and men with diplomatic immunity, and bypassed the frantic, gelatinous queue, which was gushing with bodily fluids, non-freon perfumes and words beginning with.

The problems began during the anti-terrorist control. First, two of the three delegates could not fit in the new model of the metal detector gate, because they were too wide and too fat (sideways didn't work either), so they had to lie down on the conveyor belt and go through the new model of the hand luggage screening machine, as they just managed to fit in there. It beeped and it beeped, and finally all of them had to hand over for safekeeping their double-sim room-key cards for the delegates' hotel, as the cards not only had metal parts, but also sharp edges.

Delegate Wilczak thought it was all done, when he noticed a row of cubicles for a personal security check. A very pretty woman walked up to delegate Raczkowski and said:

"Please go to cubicle number 3, undress completely, sit on the toilet and defecate, then immediately leave without putting your clothes back on. There is a towel to wrap around your waist if you feel embarrassed. I must warn you that all your action in the room will be filmed. Please sign the consent form. And if you don't agree, then you're not flying, sir."

"I don't agree to that, I have immunity!"

"Please sign. And without putting your clothes back on, if you want to live."

All the delegates, one after another, entered the hermetic, armor-plated cabins and did as they had been instructed to do.

After leaving the rooms, delegate Serafin, who with one hand was holding the towel, because it was too short, and with the other his clothes, said:

"For the first time I am not happy that we were at the head of the queue."

And it was true. People still behind the security gates had a great time watching the whole spectacle, probably unaware that exactly the same was waiting for them.

After the 20-minute procedure (you needed to wait 10 minutes after the indicator on the cabin turned to green), the delegates heard from the officer in charge:

"You're clear to go."

"But why was it necessary to go through this demeaning procedure? Officer, please explain this to delegate Serafin," delegate Serafin asked the officer in charge.

"Ah, nothing. Terrorist alert level five. Apparently, the bad guys developed a new bomb. They call it "food bomb". It's a substance, which they drink during a meal two hours before the flight. Then, on board the plane they drop the load in the toilet. The substance, in contact with atmospheric air, AC air is best, and you know gentlemen, this is a given aboard, explodes with a force equivalent to four sticks of TNT."

"But why such a thorough check at a small airport in podunk Podunkowice, and not in London, or somewhere more muslim?"

"Ah, you know, supposedly bigos is best for this."