smuggling revisited

Heard an interesting tale last month... true story about someone I know...only I can't remember which someone exactly- but as you'll soon see, that's not all that important. Remember this? And how it happens every time the trains cross from here into Poland? And how our dear Fellow Ukrn's (well, OK- so I use this term somewhat loosely since I'm not exactly a Ukrn and since I don't actually know any smugglers...but I have been in close proximity with a few)- so they love to smuggle- or some of them do. Pirated/fakes/whatever-you-want-to-call-it goods made here, packaged with a famous name brand label, smuggled into Poland and then sold for supposed instant profit.
So, my acquaintance had been here in Ukr visiting us, in fact (imagine). He takes the train back to Poland where he tells this rather interesting story. Finally got through all the Customs stuff, Border Patrol is off the train, train is moving once more...and even more importantly, the toilet has been opened for business again... in he goes. At some point during his 'stay' in that little tiny room, the ceiling suddenly opens up and a lady drops down out of there, nearly on top of him... no joke... Just a smuggler, getting all her wares together into one bag again...
I heard this story from someone who'd been on the train and watched the whole thing happen. (important point- vodka is often carried on the smuggler's body, in sealed clear plastic food storage-type bags- long and narrow. Then the smuggler lines his sleeves, pant legs, whatever with the bags... you get the pic.) So, this one woman has been strapping them all over herself- like she looked like one of those life-size helium balloons by the time she was done- all taped on with packing tape. She can barely move- can't really bend her arms or legs-and the weight... mamma mia... and it's hot... like really hot... with all that plastic and such. Well at this particular border crossing, all passengers had to get off the train and walk through the customs area. This woman gets part way but then tips over... and there she is, rocking around like a turtle on its back... and she can't get up. No. She. Can't. (this was pre-Obama, apparently) Pre-Bob the Builder, too (and if you get that connection, you've got a 3 year old in your life!) The border guards are standing around laughing. Falling over themselves laughing. No one lends a hand- they know what the problem is. Finally the man in charge says, Lady, if you can get up on your own and walk across the border, you're in; if not, we ship you back. Well, this is just the motivation Miss Turtle needs- with a final heroic heave, sweat pouring off of her, up she gets and toddles off. And true to their word, they let her go...