HLJ Day
Ever wonder where all your money’s been going? I’m not talking about the cash you spend on liquor, hookers, and McNuggets, but rather the coin you’ve been forking over on a regular basis to Scott Hards’ HobbyLink Japan. “New Jack City” style, I penetrated his operation in an undercover sting.
Posing as a dim-witted toy journalist (a major stretch), I made contact with Hards on an overcast afternoon in chilly Tatebayashi, an hour north of downtown Tokyo. I convinced the man I was on the level. I even managed to convince him to treat me to lunch. After that, I was in.
That’s right — I saw it all. The HLJ campus and control tower where Hards issues his dastardly wholesale orders. The server farm where illicit toy-purchases are handled. The warehouse floor where the orders are processed. The attack dog. The Hardsmobile (a.k.a. the HobbyLoader). The war room where industrious coders craft & care for the web site addicts love so well. The dolly full of orders ready going out (including a suspiciously adult-male-sized schoolgirl outfit being delivered to a Roger Harkavy of Morristown, New Jersey. Not a word, Rog — I promise!) The Air Lady that poops out those air-pillows that so lovingly cradle your orders in transit. The cases upon cases of expertly built-up models, most at the sinister hand of Hards himself. Like Wug! Wug! Wug! Even a few vintage surprises lurking in the back (alas, not for sale, chumps!) And did I mention Wug?
Total sensory overload. My mission complete I hailed a taxi and got the hell out of there. It had been a close call — I had barely escaped with my wallet intact. And my stomach was acting up from those damned liver treats.
