No Back-up Plan?

My bad choice, smuggling Columbian cocaine packed in coffee. Such a cliché but I was a broke jobless graduate, owing debts.
Dealer recruited me, paid for flights and hotel, promised fistfuls of dollars, assured me that sniffer dogs would be confused by the coffee.
Guess it wasn't this dog's favourite roast blend because it sniffed the drugs immediately.
"Plan A, Señor," an overcrowded prison cell inmate smiled, "You play 'Pain in Ass', make big trouble, maybe they sen' you 'ome."
"Or?" I asked.
"Plan B, we play pain in ass, Gringo." He unbuttoned his pants, the other guys, too.
Bugger!