Bank Job

by Brad Rose

Yesterday, I got a call from Anonymous. Told me I should shave off my mustache so I wouldn’t be recognized. It’s too bad you can’t eat every time you’re curious. Last night, I dreamed of insomniac alligators. They looked hungover. One of them had chrome teeth. Another one said, “When you wake up, we’ll be back.” If only my clothes would stop talking in my sleep. Sometimes their questions get stuck in my head. I keep meaning to do something about it. Luella is a lot prettier than my better half, but she’s the evil kind of smart. She says things I don’t understand, but it’s not her fault, she didn’t invent the words.

We walked up to the first teller and Luella yelled, “Everybody get down on the floor.” You’d be surprised how beautiful a day it was. At first, it didn’t sound anything like gunfire.

If he had any money, Brad Rose wouldn’t keep it in a bank.
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