Mac stared at the ceiling.  It had been an awesome weekend, no doubt about it.  He was pretty sure he was lying on the couch because he could smell the cat pee.  No wonder someone had tossed it in the dumpster.

He looked over at Lawrence, sprawled out on the torn up recliner.  He was pale but Mac was pretty sure he could see him breathing.

The living room was a mess.  The floor was covered in booze bottles, beer  bottles, cans, pizza boxes, snack bags, syringes, and who knew what else.  Someone had managed to put the heel of a woman’s shoe through his Emerson stereo.

He sat up, fighting the queasiness.  Then he threw an empty Pringles can at Lawrence.

"Hey, wake up!"
Lawrence started.  "Whuh?  Where am I?"  He looked at the Pringles can on his chest.  "Is this a gift from the gods?"

"No," said Mac.  "Well, maybe.  There’s no telling who showed up last night.  We’re home."

"Did I get laid?"

"No," said Mac.  "Well, maybe.  If you did you owe me for a new stereo." 

"Aw, man, I’m broke.  I’m hungry, too."

"Yeah, me too.  Let’s see if there’s anything left over."

They got down on the floor and scrounged through the mess.  Once in a while they’d down what was left of the alcohol but they didn’t find anything to eat.

Mac sighed.  "Man, you’d think some of  those people would have left something."

"Do you remember who was here?" asked Lawrence.

Mac thought about it.  "No.  I mean, I know Renny was here.  I don’t know who the other people were."  He looked around at the desolation and threw a beer can on the ground.  "I can’t believe this!  They used our drugs and drank our booze and  they didn’t even leave anything."

"I gotta take a dump," said Lawrence.  He staggered off to another room.

Mac sighed again and sat on the dingy couch.  They were broke.  They spent what they made on their last job on this stupid party.  And he couldn’t remember who was there or what they did.   Besides break his stereo.  Now he and Lawrence were hungry and broke.  Man, when he caught up with that one-shoed chick he’d make her give him a new stereo.

Lawrence came out of the bathroom and started for the door.

"Man, you didn’t flush," Mac pointed out.

"I didn’t go.  I’m gonna use the dumpster."  He went out.

Mac started to see what was wrong with the toilet before thinking better of it.  It probably wasn’t anything he’d want to deal with before eating.

When Lawrence came back he said, "Look, we went through our savings in one weekend.  We need to do another job."
Shrugging, Lawrence said, "We ain’t got nothing planned.  Renny didn’t call, did he?"

"No, but we don’t need Renny.  I figure jacking gas stations and convenience stores ain’t gonna cut it.  We need to rob a bank."

"A bank? We ain’t done a bank before.  That kind of thing needs planning and shit."

Mac looked at him.  "So?"
"So Renny says we ain’t so good at planning.  We’re more like followers."

"Fuck Renny," spat Mac.  "We can do it."

They parked in a lot across from the bank.

Mac looked over the steering wheel of Lawrence’s beat up Hyundai. 

"You remember the plan?" he asked.

"We had a plan?"

"Yeah, you know.  Do things different.  Shake up the establishment."

Lawrence was nervous.  "I don’t know, man.  It’s a bank."

Mac turned to him saying, "Look, if you got something to contribute then contribute.  I ain’t above taking suggestions."

"Let’s not do this," Lawrence begged.

"Shut up.  You got the note?"

Lawrence nodded.

"All right.  Masks on."  Mac rolled  down his black ski mask.  "You ready?"  He looked at Lawrence.  "Where the fuck did you get that?"

Lawrence was wearing a red and green ski mask with a bright pom-pom on top.  "It was in the dumpster."

"It’s a good thing we’re burning these when we’re done.  Let’s go."

They waited in line.

Lawrence asked, "Why are we going through the drive through?"

Mac sighed.  "For several reasons.  One, we can’t get locked in.  We don’t gotta worry about hostages, we’re already in the getaway car, and the path is nice and clear.  If you gotta problem with that, feel free to contribute."

They pulled up to the tube.  "Okay, give me the note."
Lawrence handed Mac the note that they had written in the apartment.  It read, simply, "Put the money in the thing and nobody gets hurt."

Mac put it in the container.  After a second he asked Lawrence, "You still got that little gun?  The Derringer?"

Lawrence nodded.

"Give it here."

"Why?" asked Lawrence, handing over the little gun.

Mac put the gun in with the note.  "To show ’em we mean business."

"Hey, man, I’m gonna want that back!"

Mac took the note from the container and found a pen on the floor.  He added, "Please return the gun."

"You happy now?"

Lawrence nodded, a little uncertainly.

Mac put the container in the holder and pushed the button.  They watched it as it flew through the tube to the teller window.

A crackly but perky voice came over the speaker.  "Hi! I’m Becky! What can I do for you today?"

Mac leaned out the window, saying, "Just read the note, honey."

He leaned back in the seat.  "Now we wait for the money to come in."

After a couple of seconds Lawrence tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the teller window. 

"What’s she doin’?" he asked.

Mac looked at the window and saw the woman holding a sack of money and the little container. 

He pushed the speaker button on the machine.  "What’s the hold up, honey?"

Her voice came back, "It won’t fit in this thing," she said. 

She showed them how it wouldn’t fit.

Lawrence started to fidget. "Aw, man, now what?"

"I don’t know.  You try thinking of something."  He tapped the steering wheel a couple of times and then snapped his fingers.  "I know!"

He pushed the speaker button again.  "Hey, make us out a check."

"Who do I make it out to?" asked Becky.

"You ain’t gonna get us that way, sister.  Just make it out to ‘cash.’"

A few minutes later the cannister came back.  Mac grabbed it and took the check out.

"Six million bucks!" he whistled.  "Now we’re talking!"  he put the cannister back in the holder.

"Where’s my gun?" Lawrence wanted to know.

"Ditzy broad forgot to put it back in.  Hell, with this kind of scratch you can buy yourself a bigger gun.  We need to get out of here and cash it."

Mac drove them around the block a few times.  They had taken the masks off and threw them onto the road. 

Pleased with himself, Mac considered this to be the crime of the century.

"Where are we going?" Lawrence asked.

"We’re going to wait a few minutes.  Then we’re going back there to cash this check."

"Why are we going to the place we just robbed?"

"Because we know they’re good for it and because the check is written from that bank.  We don’t have to wait for no holding period."

"Oh, yeah."

Mac looked at the ceiling from his bunk.  They’d been in jail for a week now.  He wasn’t happy about it, although he grudginly admitted that the food was better than what they were used to.

"Hey," said Lawrence from the bunk below him.  "Maybe we shoulda asked for a money order?"

"Now you contribute," sighed Mac.

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