THE CUSTOMS LOUNGE BY E. A. PROULX Anything can happen in the customs lounge--since they let those Earth people in! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] There were usually a few Customs Inspectors in the lounge, waiting to begin their shifts, hanging around trading news and incidents and drinking the bad, lukewarm kasser that was a standing joke in the Immigration-Customs Service. Old Grag was telling for perhaps the eightieth time of a success of his when he was young in the Service. "... They had this small box of sticky, squashy sweets with them. The young one was eating one. Many another Inspector would have passed them through, but I thought the young one chewed too much and too loud. So I said, 'Mind if I have one?' "'Wah!' says they together, 'it would set you on edge, Noble Wise Inspector. It is the taste of another world.' They was Venusers, and they started shifting and hopping around, and humming their national anthem, _you_ know how they used to do back in the old days. I made quite a nice little find. Almost a half-scree of chamfer in each one of those sweets. I got a promotion out of that, and the Venusers got a six-year close out." Inspector Flimp blew one of his noses loudly. "Hee, that's nothing. _I_ recall back when we first opened up for Immigration, and a whole shipload of earthers came in. They were crammed in like tigs in a nest, and as usual they didn't know one word of the language, they didn't have any idea of where to go or how to do anything, and they'd got separated from their controller. They just stood around, huddled together and jabbering at each other. Well, I checked out about twenty of them, and then there comes up this big ugly female. Well, I jacks the elevator up some more, and I looks down at her. "'Name!', I call. 'Gladdis Cracklegill,' or some other weird earth name she screams at me. 'Too much name,' I say. 'You've got enough name there for five of you. Which will you choose, Glad, Is, Crack, El or Gil?' "Well, it took me a while to make her understand me--my earth accent wasn't too good then, and she was slow-headed, having only one, like all earthers. But I finally made her understand what I wanted to know, and then, by Clag, what a ramping frowst she did make! "It was while she was screeching at me that I noticed her teeth were pretty big, even for such a huge beast as she was. So I secretly turned on the Dento-Spyer, right into her jaws, and what a sight on the view screen! Each of those big teeth was false and filled to the top with Earth seeds she was trying to smuggle!" "Earthers!" exploded young Nask. "They make me sick!"