Shortie Smith was hold up in a Motel 6.
The bank robbery had gone surprisingly well,and he couldn’t believe it. It was a small bank, he waited to the customers left, two tellers and a ski mask. All he did was walk in the bank and hand the teller a note: “Put all the money in the bag and hand it over to me. Maintain eye contact, do not attempt to notify anyone. I have a gun.” The teller’s eyes opened wide, she looked up. He pointed at the protrusion in his shirt, both women got busy and handed him a bag, and Shortie walked out. On foot, he made quite a bit of progress before he had to hide in an abandoned building waiting until the sirens died down. He changed shirts, discarded the mask, and then he made a stop in the Vietnamese “Discount Store and Payday Loans,” where he called a cab. Now Shortie was pondering the ceiling tiles in Motel 6. He had to have a good plan, sometimes you can get away with things and he wanted to get away with this crime, it was his money, he needed it, besides the government would pay those people back. Sort of a government payday loan.
Shortie got up and placed the money bag on the bed, and he opened it up. All of a sudden, there was a small, but violent, blue explosion. “Damn it!” yelled Shortie. It was blue dye. Everywhere. The tellers had given him a bag full of blue dye! He turned to look in the mirror, he was blue all right. Blue face, arms, hands. What the luck, alright! There was only one thing to do now, Dallas Cowboys or Smurfs?
The radio was blaring the current hit: “When I’m Gone…” and Shortie knew, he had to git gone. They would be looking for him, so he had to get pretty far and fast out of Colorado. What was it that old bum had told him, that he knew a place, a place where not many can get to, a place where people would kill to get to, a place where it was like things never happened. Could there be such a place?
Shortie headed out as inconspicuously as a blue man could, and rounded the corner to the Dollar Store. He had to get a Smurf hat and a a cowboy hat. He had to be able to bounce this blue thing off. The money was blue too, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he had non-robbery money that he could use.
Out on the street he walked, Shortie the performance artist, the kids were having something at the library, that was his story, he was a Smurf acting for the kids. He turned onto Lamar Street, and ran face to face into the woman at the bank. She looked at him, looked at him again, and walked on by. Had she recognized him? Shortie made a bee line for the library, he had to do this thing right. In his bag, the cowboy hat smushed against his leg and the bag of money was now transferred into a trash bag inside the Dollar Store bag. A performance, then find the old man….
This is the trouble when you go blue. Are they looking at me because I’m blue or because they think I’m a smurf tribute act? That could send a man insane.
Great start, LT. Can’t stop, need to read the rest 🙂
Oh the blue man, ha ha…I need to get back to him. I suppose it could drive a man insane. Thanks Phil!