Bogummy was an excellent travel agent. He could organize flights, hotels, visas, airport transfers, and sightseeing tours across multiple countries.

What he could not organize was his own life.

During a group trip to Malaysia, Bogummy met Mr. Thomas, a cheerful man in his fifties who possessed a dangerous level of curiosity.

"So, Bogummy," Thomas asked on the first day, "what does your father do?"

"Business.😌"

"Nice."

The next day:

"Do you have siblings?"

"Yes.☺️"

"Interesting."

The day after that:

"Does your family own property?"

Bogummy slowly lowered his sunglasses.

"Sir, are we on a vacation or a background verification?😐"

Thomas simply smiled.

By the fourth day, Thomas somehow knew the size of Bogummy's family house, the location of his father's land, and probably the blood type of the family dog.

Bogummy was concerned.

Meanwhile, while the group wandered through a shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur, Bogummy discovered the cutest cactus he had ever seen.

It was tiny.

Round.

Grumpy.

It looked like it paid taxes and hated Mondays.

Bogummy immediately fell in love.

"I'm buying him."

"You don't even know if it's a him," said one of the tourists.

"I know in my heart."

Being a responsible citizen, Bogummy searched online before purchasing it.

Five minutes later he learned that bringing a cactus home legally required permits, certificates, inspections, declarations, approvals, and enough paperwork to qualify as a part-time job.

Bogummy stared at the screen.

Then he stared at the cactus.

The cactus stared back.

"Legally speaking, this is a terrible idea."

The cactus remained silent.

"Counterargument: you're adorable."

The cactus won.

That evening, Bogummy carefully wrapped the cactus in a pair of socks and hid it deep inside his suitcase.

"Welcome to the criminal underworld," he whispered.

The cactus looked unimpressed.

The next morning, Thomas sat beside him on the tour bus.

"I have a daughter."

Bogummy froze.

"Oh."

"She is educated."

"Oh no."

"She is kind."

"Oh no."

"She loves travel."

"Oh no."

"And I think you two would make an excellent couple."

Bogummy looked out the window and briefly considered jumping from the moving bus.

Not because of Thomas's daughter.

She was probably wonderful.

But because Bogummy had absolutely no interest in getting married.

Unfortunately, he also had absolutely no idea how to reject Thomas without creating an international diplomatic incident.

For the rest of the trip, Thomas casually inserted his daughter into every conversation.

They passed a beach.

"My daughter likes beaches."

They visited a restaurant.

"My daughter likes food."

They entered a souvenir shop.

"My daughter also breathes oxygen."

"Remarkable," said Bogummy.

Soon the trip ended and everyone headed to the airport.

Bogummy's stress level reached dangerous heights.

Every airport announcement sounded directed specifically at him.

"Passengers are reminded not to transport restricted items."

Bogummy tightened his grip on the suitcase.

The suitcase suddenly weighed about three hundred kilograms.

A customs officer walked by.

"Good morning, sir."

"GOOD MORNING, OFFICER."

The officer blinked.

"Why are you sweating?"

"I believe in fitness."

At that exact moment, Thomas appeared beside him.

"Speaking of future plans, have you considered my daughter?"

Bogummy looked at the officer.

Then at Thomas.

Then at the suitcase.

Then at Thomas again.

For the first time in his life, the illegal cactus seemed like the smaller problem.

Miraculously, Bogummy passed through security.

The cactus survived.

The marriage proposal survived.

And unfortunately, so did Thomas.

Months later, the cactus sat proudly on Bogummy's desk.

Every morning he would look at it.

The cactus would look back.

Both wore the exact same expression whenever someone mentioned marriage.

One evening Bogummy sighed.

"You know, you're the second biggest problem I brought back from Malaysia."

The cactus remained silent.

His phone suddenly buzzed.

A message from Thomas.

Good evening, Bogummy! My daughter says hello.

Bogummy stared at the message.

Then at the cactus.

Then back at the message.

Finally he whispered,

"Customs should have checked more carefully."

For the first time ever, the cactus seemed to understand.

Moral of the story: Bogummy successfully smuggled a cactus across international borders, but he couldn't smuggle himself out of a marriage proposal. The cactus came with thorns; Thomas came with follow-up messages. The second one was far more dangerous. 😆