semtecks

The bank was one of those small, independent ones, and Lucas figured him and the boys could take it, easy. They weren’t making enough from convenience stores, so banks seemed like a natural progression.

Fiction brought the van to an uneasy stop, tires screeching slightly.

“Alright, boys,” he said. “Hurry up before I get a parking ticket.”

Lucas looked at Ben, then Mark, and nodded.

“Remember. Ben, watch the doors, Mark, crowd control.”

“Okay,” Ben said.

“Gotcha,” Mark said.

The three of them put their masks on in perfect unison, and picked up their weapons. Lucas had the gun (double barrelled shotgun, sawn off because that’s what they did in the movies), Ben and Mark both had butchers knives (those, Lucas had told them with a smile, will scare the panties off any young damsel).

They swung back the doors and rushed to the bank. The street was empty, it was 11am and there wouldn’t be anyone here until twelve when the lunch hour started.

He could almost smell the fear coming off Mark and Ben. He looked back at the van; he couldn’t see Fiction through the tinted screen, but knew he’d be biting his nails and tapping the dashboard in a nervous rhythm.

Lucas burst through the banks doors.

“Nobody move!”

The bank was like a still photo. An old man was holding out a check; which the teller had been reaching for. The other teller (a pretty young girl in her twenties, who’d been counting notes) looked like she’d just been struck by lightening. The man she’d been serving, a man in his fifties, was dressed in a Gucci suit.

Ben took up position slightly to the left of the door. Mark raised the flat blade of the knife, and said, “You, old man” The old man jumped. “And, you, slightly less older man. In the corner. Now.”

The old man rushed into the far right corner, dived to the floor, and put his hands over his head. The man in the slick suit followed at a leisurely pace, dropping to the ground with agonising slowness.

Lucas walked towards the pretty teller with the shotgun held in the crook of his elbow.

“Ten thousand. Five in in fifties, three in twenties and one in tens.”

The pretty girl looked apprehensively at the man in the slick suit.

“No die packs. No funny money. Press the panic button and I will kill every single person in this room…understand?

She said: “That’s exactly what he said.”

As if in answer, the man in the slick suit stood up.

“Hey!” Mark shouted. “Sit down or you‘ll be counting the appendages you don‘t have!”

The man smiled serenely. He seemed to identify Lucas as the leader and said to him. “Amateurs.”

“Sit down, now!” Lucas came towards him and raised the gun.

“Not loaded,” the man said with dreamy boredom.

Lucas flinched. He kept cool on the surface, but he thought: How did he know? “No, it won’t be loaded after I unload both barrels into that expensive suit of yours.”

The man smiled. “Go ahead.”

“Lucas,” Mark said. “Lets go--”

“Don’t say my name, shitwit.”

The old man on the floor was looking up, Ben had stepped away from the door, and the pretty teller seemed to be reaching for something just out of sight.

“When you rob a bank, Lucas,” The man in the slick suit said. “You do it quietly. You wear a nice suit. You write a brief note with your demands to give to the teller. If you do it quietly the bank will keep it quiet. They don’t want their customers to know they’ve been robbed.”

Lucas was looking at the man with quiet admiration. “Who the hell are you?”

“Just a man who’s been in this line of work for a long time…one who hasn’t been caught.”

He broke away from Lucas and went to they pretty young teller. She gave him the money she’d been counting.

“I think she’s pressed the alarm,” he said.

Lucas looked at Ben and Mark. Never mind smelling their fear, he could taste his own. It was a metallic sensation on the roof of his mouth.

The man put the money into an envelope and said. “I’d offer you half but”--he reached into his pocket and brought out a handgun--“this one is real.”

The three of them watched him leave with silent awe.

He opened the door and started to sing: “I needed some money ‘cause I didn’t have none. I fought the law and the law won. I fought the law and the law won…”

***

When the three of them stepped into the van, they were disappointed, emotionally drained, and scared; but it could have been worse if it wasn’t for old slick suit.

Fiction turned to look at them. “You sure took your sweet time…where’s the money?”

Lucas could hear sirens in the distance.

“Just drive the van. There was nothing in there worth our lives.”

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CandieK

The only thing that I think would make it better would be to leave that last part off. I think it would be great if you left it off right where slick suit is singing, "I fought the law, and the law won."

Every other line is dripping with wit.....

Very clever and imaginative.

I very much enjoyed it!

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Ilan Bouchard

Read this before but wanted to let someone else comment first to get my ideas together...

At first I thought this needed to be drawn out; it seemed rushed in places:

But I then realized this helped emulate the feel of the robbery. Good job.

I didn't like the last line, but I think it needs something to finish it off. Just one sentence really, like:

Lucas looked at Ben and Mark, and the three ran out of the bank.

Well, not that exactly, but something that summarizes the last paragraph a little better.

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Chris Miller

Nice smooth little yarn Semtecks. I like your tough guys. At first I thought you meant "Friction" instead of "Fiction" and that this was a really funny typo.

You have a knack for distinguishing between criminal wannabes and the real thing.

Only spotted a couple edits (grammar-nazi that I am).

butchers=butcher’s

dived=dove

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gohn67

Hey Semtecks,
I liked this alot, you're getting back into your old form again.

I agree with Candie that you should end with the lyrics.
I think that works better.

lightening = lightning?

period after the first "man"?

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