No Days Off

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 28
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The electronic sliding doors – the one modern convenience of Geraldine’s otherwise cash-only depot – slowly slid open. Their modernity was limited in pace.

In front of the Bad Guys was arranged all the candy they could hope for, in addition to a lot of other foods probably more deserving of a place in their starved bellies. Sweets could wait and should wait. This was an errand of necessity, not pleasure, despite the inherent excitement the heist had begun to stir. Cal, Midnight, Rog, and even Sally featured a visible twinkle in their eyes, each in their left eye, their right eyes remaining unobstructed for scouting purposes.

Consistent in her old-fashionedness, Geraldine was not there. Whilst attending to whatever it was that needed attending, she’d abandoned the counter in good faith to the integrity of the customer. She’d also abandoned on the counter the criminal photos of the three human customers who’d just entered.

Rog: “Maybe we should come back.”

Cal: “What?”

Rog: “This has to be a trap.”

Cal: “I do sense a nearby blow dart.”

Rog pointed at a package of Twizzlers: “Those could easily be constructed into blowdarts.”

Cal: “And what would serve to be the poison shot out of them?”

Rog: “According to the Surgeon General, the Twizzle itself.”

Cal: “Twizzle - The singular tense of Twizzler?”

Rog: “Yes.”

Cal: “Of course. In conclusion, I disagree. This is a great opportunity. Not only can we take the food we need; we can also leave the money for it at the register.”

Rog: “What about the blimp?”

Midnight took charge: “Screw the blimp. Get the food. Leave the money. Let’s move.” The boys obeyed, each falling into habit and picking up a shopping bin as they did. The robber band hurried to the produce section, where they rapidly identified the ripest fruit and veg before hurriedly (but gently, so as to prevent bruising) adding the goods to their haul. The most casual burglary of all time had begun, in haste! Dairy followed, with meats next. Issues concerning what Cal the poultritarian could eat threatened to slow the affair, but when he confirmed an affinity to turkey the problem was solved. At this rate of success, the time Fort Knox would learn to fear the infamous Bad Guys was just a casual Friday away.

A voice called out: “Excuse me. Could whoever is out there please come help me with this crate?” The voice was Geraldine’s.

Midnight whispered to Cal, who, like Midnight, and Rog, and Sally, had been frozen for the twenty seconds that had warily and unwarily passed since Geraldine spoke: “Go.”

Cal: “What?” Cal didn’t whisper this so much as he choked it out all pubescent-like.

Midnight: “You remind her of her husband. Go!” It made enough sense. Geraldine already knew someone was there. And she was an old lady who needed help. Cal went.

Geraldine looked up from the crate she was hunched over: “Oh my! What a polite young man. Now you lift that end over there, and I’ll lift this end.” Apparently she hadn’t recognized him.

Or maybe she had.

Geraldine: “Now don’t you go stealing anything.”

Cal gulped: “Excuse me, ma’am.”

Geraldine: “This box is full of those things you put on your car wheel to keep people from stealing them. I thought it would be funny if I made a joke about stealing them, seeing as how they’re anti-theft devices. It’s a bit of old-time humor for you.”

Cal was still panicking, but he made an effort to recognize this sub-par comedic attempt: “I see, I see. Very good, ma’am.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! You really are a polite young man. It’s too bad I still can’t sell anything to you, what with the police order and all.”

She had.