29-03-2019, 05:52 PM
think it's all still there, someone will notice sooner, rather than later. Probably when they start trying to give customers 'special money that only smart people like you and me can see,' or an armored car driver points out that the vault's empty, and all the employees insist the money's 'Right there, you fool!'"
"Mm-hm." Troy mm-hmed. "Then what happens?"
"Someone freaks and hits the panic button. The FBI might even show up before the Tacoma PD. When they find there was conveniently nobody watching the cameras, if they don't charge him as an accessory, that guy loses his job. Same for everyone at the bank. The Board will fire the whole branch and let the Feds sort 'em out. Best-case scenario, nobody finds work involving a background check again. Worst-case, they get sent to prison and/or the looney bin... Wait, no. Worst case, someone KILLS themselves to avoid prison or the looney bin! Or they get killed inside. We'd be directly responsible for that."
"Hoped you'd catch that one." Troy said. "What else?"
"The bank's insured, so they'll get it all back, but that kind of money 'going
missing' is news! Now reporters, reward-seekers, and conspiracy nuts are all in the mix. And the bank's stock or whatever will certainly take a hit; you could exploit that. But it's not going to be the big crooks on The Board who'll pay for it; this is the kind of shit that rolls downhill. They'll punish the small-time customers with all kinds of new rate hikes and fees to appease The Almighty Shareholders."
"Or a government bailout, taken out of 'The Little Guy's' taxes, so that turdball hits him either way. You've beaten Julie's score, now. Wanna set a record?"
"Yeah. We can't spend it. Enough of the bills will be traceable back to the
bank. If anyone can launder money, I'm sure it's you, Troy. I don't know anything, except that putting the money in the washing machine probably isn't really involved. But we'd have to do that, too; our DNA will be all over it. We might end up just having to burn it all. And the law can't stop looking for us until the Statute of Limitations expires for bank robbery. Then it becomes an 'unsolved mystery' that never goes away, like Amelia Earhart, or Jimmy Hoffa. Someone will sniff around and might find holes in my plan and track us down to our doorstep. We can take care of any snoops that come our way, but it'll be like the movie 'The Cheyenne Social Club;' Jimmy Stewart shoots the first bad guy, and his five brothers come for revenge. Stewart and Fonda take out the five brothers, find out that fifty cousins are coming now, end up having to flee town, and go back to life on the trail. We'd be in the same boat, except we'd have to take Helen's standing offer to move into Castle Finzione with her for the rest of our lives. I have an extra credit answer, too."
Troy turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Susan stopped looking at the bank and back into Troy's eyes, placing her hand on his knee.
"Since my boyfriend is too modest to have it on the quiz: We don't talk about money much, and my lunch is almost over, so I can't afford to get him turned on right now. Therefore, without talking too financial to him, I can infer by what he's done for me this past year, and the knowledge that he's invested for himself and his best friend since before they could drive; there's no point. Maybe he's not 'La Familia de San Finzione' level; however, If Troy Equals wants to fuck his wife and girlfriend on a bed of money, he can probably just go to one of his online bank accounts and have it delivered legitimately. Or send La Contessa a booty text about it. She'll text right back. 'Scappa and security officer escort running lights to Treasury, then Airport. How do you want it? Dollars? Euros? Bars of gold? Pick a damn currency, Troilus!'"
Troy laughed and stood up; their cones finished. He offered Susan a hand up off the bench, and she took it with a smile. When they were both standing, the kiss he gave her was one that held a particular meaning in their relationship; the one that they shared when words were inadequate for expressing their agreement to whatever the other of them had just asked or said.
"There are also the individuals in the bank to consider." He said, pointing at an old man walking in with a cane. "What if he's got a bad heart? Or needs to take his medicine in the next half hour?" He pointed to a woman their own age, running out the door and to her car. "She might be running to get her kid from daycare? Their late fees are by the minute, and I don't know how long they typically wait for a late parent before calling CPS, but THEY want to go home, too. Suppose a pregnant woman's water breaks because we've got her lifting heavy money bags? Or she miscarries. Someone else has a bad back and ends up in a wheelchair for life from us pushing him past his limit. Any of those things would be on us. And, as we've learned recently, if even one person in there is hearing-impaired, it's Anything-Can-Happen Day."
He offered his arm and she took it. They began strolling back towards Inner
Claire-ity Yoga, where Susan worked as the owner's assistant. Troy wrapped up the lesson.
"Doing What We Do can be fun as hell; putting an asshole in his place, solving people's problems and turning it into a fun little MC sex game with the women I love."
"Mm-hm." Troy mm-hmed. "Then what happens?"
"Someone freaks and hits the panic button. The FBI might even show up before the Tacoma PD. When they find there was conveniently nobody watching the cameras, if they don't charge him as an accessory, that guy loses his job. Same for everyone at the bank. The Board will fire the whole branch and let the Feds sort 'em out. Best-case scenario, nobody finds work involving a background check again. Worst-case, they get sent to prison and/or the looney bin... Wait, no. Worst case, someone KILLS themselves to avoid prison or the looney bin! Or they get killed inside. We'd be directly responsible for that."
"Hoped you'd catch that one." Troy said. "What else?"
"The bank's insured, so they'll get it all back, but that kind of money 'going
missing' is news! Now reporters, reward-seekers, and conspiracy nuts are all in the mix. And the bank's stock or whatever will certainly take a hit; you could exploit that. But it's not going to be the big crooks on The Board who'll pay for it; this is the kind of shit that rolls downhill. They'll punish the small-time customers with all kinds of new rate hikes and fees to appease The Almighty Shareholders."
"Or a government bailout, taken out of 'The Little Guy's' taxes, so that turdball hits him either way. You've beaten Julie's score, now. Wanna set a record?"
"Yeah. We can't spend it. Enough of the bills will be traceable back to the
bank. If anyone can launder money, I'm sure it's you, Troy. I don't know anything, except that putting the money in the washing machine probably isn't really involved. But we'd have to do that, too; our DNA will be all over it. We might end up just having to burn it all. And the law can't stop looking for us until the Statute of Limitations expires for bank robbery. Then it becomes an 'unsolved mystery' that never goes away, like Amelia Earhart, or Jimmy Hoffa. Someone will sniff around and might find holes in my plan and track us down to our doorstep. We can take care of any snoops that come our way, but it'll be like the movie 'The Cheyenne Social Club;' Jimmy Stewart shoots the first bad guy, and his five brothers come for revenge. Stewart and Fonda take out the five brothers, find out that fifty cousins are coming now, end up having to flee town, and go back to life on the trail. We'd be in the same boat, except we'd have to take Helen's standing offer to move into Castle Finzione with her for the rest of our lives. I have an extra credit answer, too."
Troy turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Susan stopped looking at the bank and back into Troy's eyes, placing her hand on his knee.
"Since my boyfriend is too modest to have it on the quiz: We don't talk about money much, and my lunch is almost over, so I can't afford to get him turned on right now. Therefore, without talking too financial to him, I can infer by what he's done for me this past year, and the knowledge that he's invested for himself and his best friend since before they could drive; there's no point. Maybe he's not 'La Familia de San Finzione' level; however, If Troy Equals wants to fuck his wife and girlfriend on a bed of money, he can probably just go to one of his online bank accounts and have it delivered legitimately. Or send La Contessa a booty text about it. She'll text right back. 'Scappa and security officer escort running lights to Treasury, then Airport. How do you want it? Dollars? Euros? Bars of gold? Pick a damn currency, Troilus!'"
Troy laughed and stood up; their cones finished. He offered Susan a hand up off the bench, and she took it with a smile. When they were both standing, the kiss he gave her was one that held a particular meaning in their relationship; the one that they shared when words were inadequate for expressing their agreement to whatever the other of them had just asked or said.
"There are also the individuals in the bank to consider." He said, pointing at an old man walking in with a cane. "What if he's got a bad heart? Or needs to take his medicine in the next half hour?" He pointed to a woman their own age, running out the door and to her car. "She might be running to get her kid from daycare? Their late fees are by the minute, and I don't know how long they typically wait for a late parent before calling CPS, but THEY want to go home, too. Suppose a pregnant woman's water breaks because we've got her lifting heavy money bags? Or she miscarries. Someone else has a bad back and ends up in a wheelchair for life from us pushing him past his limit. Any of those things would be on us. And, as we've learned recently, if even one person in there is hearing-impaired, it's Anything-Can-Happen Day."
He offered his arm and she took it. They began strolling back towards Inner
Claire-ity Yoga, where Susan worked as the owner's assistant. Troy wrapped up the lesson.
"Doing What We Do can be fun as hell; putting an asshole in his place, solving people's problems and turning it into a fun little MC sex game with the women I love."
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