Best Laid Plans
A humorous little impromptu about a heist gone wrong. Enjoy.
“You all have your assignments. Now let’s go get that rock!” Darren said as he embraced the cold air of the night.
After careful preparations, the time was finally at hand but, as soon as the team split up, the problems began.
Mark couldn’t get past the hypnotic grid protecting the gallery’s alarm system. His mumblings were barely audible, in direct contrast with the echoing sound of his knees hitting the concrete.
On the getaway car, Phillip realized far too late he had been listening to a non-existent radio station all along. The warm drool that covered his lips also left stains no cleaning would ever get rid of.
Against all odds, Darren still managed to enter the main chamber and gaze upon the precious gem, but was caught by its cerulean glow like a deer in the headlights. His frozen mind barely registered the presence of the Curator in the room, whispering obscenities in his ears from atop her six-inch heels.
Moral of this story: crime doesn’t pay, and best laid plans… always end in trance.
