The Robbery: A Tale Inspired by Asimov Magazine's Restrictive Guidelines

The Robbery

By, Ashton Macaulay

5:20PM Friday

     “Put the goods in the bag! We’re running out of time.” I yelled to my partners. The vault hung open, perfectly exposed. The riches inside were ripe for the taking. “We’ve got fifteen seconds until we’re all going back to the kennel.” We had all been there before; the big house was a scary place, not one I wanted to go back to. Hundreds of us crammed in like animals, I could still here the screaming. I knew I should’ve recruited better than these two. Never could stick to a timetable.

The two of them were certainly not the best for the job. Jimmy, the peg leg, so aptly named as one of his legs was missing, may have looked slow, but could run just as well without it. Problem was he had a bit of a problem with ‘The Stuff’. Didn’t really have a street name for it, but one sniff was enough to take him off his ass for hours at a time. He had to be carefully watched during these delicate operations or his habit threatened to blow the whole thing.

     

    Snuffles was a strange one. It was a name that he had picked up somewhere right out of the orphanage. It fit him well. The guy constantly sounded like he had a cold, couldn’t stop sniffing. His problem wasn’t so much drugs, as it was attention to detail. He would get hung up on the tiny pieces of a bigger operation and it tended to slow him down.

Unfortunately for me they were my only options. Most of the others in the neighborhood had gone legit, obeying orders, working for a broken system. They were content to shuck and jive for the occasional pat on the head. Not me, I wasn’t going to be a part of that hierarchy. The heist was going to take me above all of that.

     “We just have a few more bags in here!”

     “There’s no time! Get what you have now and let’s go!” It had never been about the endgame for me. One or two bags would have been enough to make it worth it. Breaking into the biggest vault of them all and stealing what they didn’t want me to have would have been enough. Of course, when it comes to splitting shares, it’s never that easy. People get greedy, and the heist just keeps getting bigger.

     “Alright, alright, get the last bag Jimmy, we’re out of here.” It was too late. We had spent too much time at the vault and now from far away I could hear the authorities coming. They were coming fast too. It was not in their nature to show mercy to common criminals like us. We had to move, and we had to move fast.

     “Oh no man, we’re done for. Game over!” Snuffles was both a coward, and had watched one too many movies. He didn’t do well under pressure. Each minute that passed I regretted my choice in accomplices even more.

     “Shut up and get the bags. We’re out of here.” I could see them rounding the corner, charging toward us. Their guns were out, there was no time left. We had an out, but it required time. Stashed just on the other side of the vault was a toxic gas, nothing deadly, but enough to distract The Authorities while we made our escape.  

     “We’ve got five seconds, get the gas! Move it!” Jimmy and Snuffles were running now, both had two bags each, clenched tight in their grip. I picked up a bag and ran after them. Shots rang out. I continued running, nothing was going to keep me from the prize. Too long had I labored on this plan for it to go south now, there was no way out other than the gas. It was either that, or back to the kennel.

     To my right there was a thump as Snuffles hit the ground hard. He screamed, writhing in pain. Just the sound of it made my hairs stand on end. I might have been able to save him, but nothing else mattered in that moment. There was no choice but to keep running. If I stopped moving then I would fall as well. I picked up one of his bags and continued forward.

     “Wait! You can’t just leave me here! We were partners remember?” Jimmy looked at him for a second, looked at me, and followed suit. He may have mouthed the word ‘sorry’, but I can’t be sure. The whole thing is so blurry. “You can’t do this! You’ll never take me alive!” His last sentence is cut short as another shot rings out. There was silence, followed by the pounding of boots running after us.

     “Come on Jimmy, forget him! He’s gone.” Jimmy picked up the pace. In no time we were behind the vault and I was scrambling to pull out the escape plan. My arms were trembling. Unable to move them I turned around and pulled the package out with my legs. My kicking was frantic. I may not have liked Jimmy, but I didn’t wish any harm on him either. Death always takes its toll, whether we want it to or not.

     “Boss?”

     “Open the package and let’s get the hell out of here.” Jimmy slices open the package. The smell makes my hair ruffle. “Let’s go!” The side of the vault rings as a shot hits it inches from my head. The guard had rounded the corner. There was a moment where I stared at him and he stared right back. In our eyes there was mutual hatred. The strength was overpowering, moving almost, but it did not last long.

     He leveled his gun again. His blonde hair moved slightly in the breeze revealing cold, blue eyes. That man was a killer, we both knew it. In that instant I took a chance, dodged left, and ran as fast as I could away from him. The ping came to my right, barely missing me. Jimmy and I were around the corner, bags gripped tight. From behind I could hear the guard reeling at the smell, and shortly after, vomiting.

     We ran until our legs grew sore and we could carry the bags no more. When we stopped we were in back of an apartment complex, hidden in the alleyway. The authorities had long since stopped their pursuit. We were free. “Did we do it boss? Are they gone?”

     “Yes, I think so. Let us see what our hard work has bought us.” I reached down and tore open one of the bags. From inside spilled the sweetest thing I have ever smelled. Apples, old takeout boxes, empty coffee cups, and cans of aged tuna fell onto the ground before us. The score was great, it was everything I had ever dreamed of. “A moment of silence for our fallen companion before we feast on this bounty.”

     Jimmy bowed his head and lowers his tail in a sign of somber solidarity. I did the same and we sat for a moment. Emotions ran wild within me. The greatest score I could have ever dreamed of was over. There was nothing to do but enjoy, and yet, I felt empty. I still feel it to this day. Late at night I howl with the memory, but in the end there was nothing to do about it. “Dig in Jimmy. 9 lives don’t last like they used to…”

5:20PM Friday (The Perspective of The Authorities)

     “God Damnit! Your cats are in the dumpster again! They’re spilling trash all over the sidewalk. Take care of it Rick!” The woman was old, crotchety, and waving a broom in front of her.

     “Alright Mrs. Kenway I’ll get them out. Sorry.” Rick walked back into his house and grabbed a spray bottle filled with water and lemon juice. They said cats would be easier than having a dog…

     Rick stepped out into the street and saw the dumpster at the end of the cul de sac. Inside, three cats were rolling around in garbage, trying to pull the bags out. “Hey! Get away from there!” He ran toward them, shooting water furiously. He was fast, but the cats were faster. They were grabbing the bags in their mouths and making a break for it.

     “Oh no you don’t.” Rick had experience with these particular cats. They were always tipping over garbage cans and causing general unrest. For a while the other cats had followed suit, but for the most part they had grown out of the bad behavior. There were only three that continued to misbehave. Rick was ten feet from the dumpster. Two of the cats were his: Jimmy and Snuffles. Jimmy was a wild card, but could usually be reined in with catnip. Snuffles was slow, and wouldn’t be too hard to take down.  

     Snuffles slowed down as he ran out of the dumpster, recognizing Rick and the spray bottle in his hand. Rick leveled the bottle and fired. He hit him on the first try. Wretched meowing erupted from the street, and he sprayed him again to stop it. The other two rounded the dumpster, trying to escape. “Get back here!”

     Rick came around the dumpster and saw the two cats, bags in mouths pawing at a cardboard box behind the dumpster. He shot haphazardly and missed. Once again he leveled the spray bottle, but for a moment locked eyes with the unknown tabby. They were intense, giving him pause about his actions. Come on man. For Christ’s sake, it’s a cat… He squeezed to fire and the box before him tore open. Inside was a five week old halibut that had been decomposing, forgotten beneath the dumpster. The smell was unbelievably horrid.

     “Oh God.” He squeezed the bottle but missed and hit the dumpster. Rick fell to his knees and vomited all across the warm pavement. Shame was all around him, swirling. By the time his eyes had stopped watering the cats were long gone, and so was the garbage. Morose at his lack of cat parenting ability Rick grabbed Snuffles and tromped back to his house.

End

Afterword:

     I would like to state that I wrote this purely because Asimov magazine said they would not accept any stories about talking cats. Well I wrote it anyway!!

It's About the Environment? And Caffeine.

A Story of Caffeine and Other Things, but Mostly Caffeine

There was a time, long, long ago. It was a time of minotaurs. For those who are unfamiliar, minotaurs are the insane half human half bull-monster breed of thing that terrorize bad children in the labyrinth and riff on sweet guitar solos with David Bowie. It was a time of peace, and war, but mostly war. I mean the world was ruled by minotaurs, and if I’ve learned anything about them from the mythos of the ancient Greeks it is that they have a penchant for violence, as well as goring things.

It was a simpler time. Minotaurs could be minotaurs and men could be, well, minotaur food, or objects for minotaur amusement. It was the fifth of February, a cold day, colder than a witch’s teat as she stands bare-breasted into the wind atop the great mountain calling forth the new day. The minotaurs had just finished a day of reveling and goring the lesser human beings who inhabited the lowlands below them. Jack, a rather feisty and ripped minotaur was pouring a large goblet of wine for his bros when out of breath a rather thick minotaur burst into his party totally killing the mood.

“Dude, you’re totally killing the mood!” Said Jack sloshing wine over the two minowhores (minotaur whores, not known for being gentle, let’s just say that Elliot Grey would have liked them) sitting at his feet. He had very clearly been about to score and this lesser peasant was cock blocking in a most major way.

“I’m so sorry bro, but something terrible is happening.” Jack set down his wine cup on the table that he had made of human clavicle bones and then promptly punched it toward the peasant, spraying him with wine and shame, but at the same time providing a small moment of interest to an otherwise dull and meaningless life. Yes in that moment, though wine covered his face for the first time he felt truly alive, as if someone had noticed him, someone cared what he had to say, and someone would finally know that his real name was Jennifer.

Jack of course cared for none of that, and merely wanted to spray wine over something. “Speak nerd, or I shall challenge you to a duel with my massive horns which I have just finished sharpening with a stone made with the bones of the pointiest orphans in the land!”

“Have you not noticed how cold it is? Even the witch has covered up today. When I awoke for the morning call  there were no sagging breasts ravaged by time to be found, only a modestly dressed hag, heralding that yet another day was going to begin.”

“You speak like a nerd, and thus I find it hard to listen, but your sentence also spoke of boobs, and so I will allow you one more chance to continue.” Jack sat back in his chair and called to his servant for a snack. Listening to the problems of others always made him hungry. A rather small minotaur rushed out of the room and returned quickly with a fresh-faced ginger orphan in his paws. Jack scooped him up, holding him as though he were his own child, and then promptly bit him in half. The orphan’s screams were loud enough that the walls of the citadel threatened to crack with their glory.

For a moment after there was only the sound of blood dripping from Jack’s jaws onto the gold plated floor beneath him. The minowhores licked it up greedily, wanting nothing more than to forever feed on the purest of blood that only the profoundly emotionally crippled can produce.

Now is my chance to speak. He is sated and will be in a good mood. There is never a better time for him to receive my message. I will forever be heralded as the savior of the minotaur race. They will know me. I AM JENNIFER! “The climate we minotaurs have come to know as normal is shifting. Soon there will be nothing left of the world we inhabit but a frozen wasteland. There will be no more bare-breasted witches, only the bear breasts of great white polar bears coming to usurp our throne and defile our women! It all stems from the unsustainable harvesting of orphans. By killing herds of their parents we are creating a cycle of fear and pain, which ordinarily would be a good thing, but the issue is that fearful beasts produce a great deal of methane.”

“What is this methane?”

“Well, it’s farts.”

“Proceed.”

"If these humans continue to produce such high levels of gas then I fear the climate will spiral out of control within the next calendar year. We must find a more sustainable way to harvest food or we will have no orphans next year. They do not survive the winters well as it is, and if it continues to grow colder we will lose the plumpest before month’s end. Imagine a world where the only orphans we have to eat are scrawny and full of bone. I have prepared a detailed plan of action for how we can reverse this effect, save our climate, and preserve our way of life at the same time!”

“Nerd, you bore me. Destiny, bring me my discussion stick.” One of the minowhores slunk off to a corner and returned moments later with a large axe. Its four blades glinted in the cold evening light and their thirst was evident, there was nothing that would stop them from tasting sweet nerd flesh, they were demons from hell, long since dead, nothing better to do than prey on the living and reap the misery that can only be sown by the wail of thousands of widows crying out in unison: WHY GOD?! WHY WOULD YOU TAKE HIM FROM US?! While their lovers lay dead in the sands of time, bleeding into an every hungry universe in which nothing is fair and everything is unbalanced, just like the galactic whores intended for us all to bow down in servitude, weeping sweet tears of servitude like the true lap dogs of a defiantly apathetic run only by their own avarice and drive to procreate.

“Wait!”

“Sorry nerd, I’m going to smash your face.” Jack heaved the mighty axe and split the nerd in two. Blood flew in all directions, exciting the minowhores and Jack. With that they had a cannibalistic orgy which can only be described as gratuitous, but tasteful.

Night dawned on the minotaur town and all was good, for that evening. Over the course of the coming months the climate continued to change and just as the nerd had predicted there was soon nothing left to eat. After three long winters there was only Jack and a handful of minowhores left.

“Destiny, the end is near.” He said cradling her face in his palms. “Bring me the ceremonial hand grenade.” They did as he asked, and the final four minotaurs huddled together for the warm fires of eternal sleep. “In the words of the immortal Mileytaur: And we can’t stop, and we won’t stop, for we are the ones who rule the night.” He pulled the pin, blowing them all to oblivion. The world froze, and about 300 years later humans became the dominant species.

Fin