Teeth

It truly was the perfect score; all the way until it all went wrong. The money was exactly where we were told it would be. Sure, there were two guards, but we were told their locations, and it was a simple matter to hit ‘em with tasers, blindfold, and handcuff ‘em, they were no longer any danger to anyone. They never saw our faces, and in less than five minutes the entire score was done. Cardboard boxes, like from those moving places. Each box weighed about 40 pounds, Joey said they were about $400,000 per box, by weight. Can you imagine? So much money you need to weigh it instead of counting it. So, each box was 400k, and we just backed up the van to the door and loaded 100 boxes inside. Easy as you please. We was told they was thirty-two mil’ in the shack, I guess, maybe the boxes were part of the weight or somethin’. Each of us got 5 million, and the rest was to pay bob’s contact. That part went smooth as glass. We just drove over to the storage place, like we was moving house. Entered the combo like we was told, and counted out twenty-two boxes. We closed the door and headed back to my place. We each took fifteen boxes, and went our own separate way. Easy peasy, right? Not so much. What we didn’t understand, was each box had an RFID. I know, you all saw them tags in stores. Pretty useless right? If you can get around the posts by the door, no big deal, right? Wrong. I guess these was special tags, and they had some sort of hand scanner things they pointed out the windows of they cars. I was sleepin’ when they came for me. Heh heh, I had tossed a bunch of the cash in my bed and was rollin’ in it. You ever saw a hunnert thou in one spot? It’s a shitpot of dough let me tell you. I dumped one of them boxes out, it was thousands of twenty-dollar bills. Like half an inch deep in my bed. I might have had a little sumthin’ to help relax after the job was done, and I was passed out hard.

I never even heard ‘em comin’. One sec I’m dreamin’ what I’m gonna spend all my cash on, and the next, I shit you not, those two guards we had tased was holden my arms betwixt ‘em. You could say they was unhappy with me fer tasen ‘em. We they made sure to let me know what they thought about it too. You know in them shows where the hero gets beat up and says stupid shit like “I ain’t tellin’ you nuthin,” or something such. Well, it really ain’t like that. One a them that we tased just cut off my finger, like he was cutting up some teak on his plate. The blood came out like nothin’ I ever saw. I like to think my hollerin’ sounded all manly and shit, but I ‘spect I sounded more than a bit like my girlfriend’s daughter, and she is only four. When he started makin’ like he was gonna do the same to my pecker, I started to sing like a fricken bird. I named all the other people in my gang, told ‘em how we found out about the money, even told ‘em where they could find the other guys. It was not my finest hour, ya dig? Now don’t get me wrong, I knew they was gonna kill me dead, not like I thought I was gonna be let go fer snitchin’, I just woulda dimed out my own mom to make ‘em stop hurting me. I’m not proud, but too late now. They trussed me up like a turkey, ready for the oven, and we went for a ride. They went lookin’ for the other guys, and when we got to the right area, they pulled out something that looked like a scanner gun from a store. They waved it around until they heard it beeping, and next you know they came back with one of my guys wrapped up just like me. Rinse repeat, and there we all were, beat to ship, tied up and helpless.

The drug guys said a lot of scary shit, and we all knew we was dead men. One of ‘em cut us each a little scratch, and he says, “You know sharks can smell your blood for miles. Them scratches is like a dinner bell to ‘em.” His friends all laughed, kinda evil like. I guess I saw the humor in it, but I wasn’t really in a laughing mood. Next we all knew, we was in a big fricken fishing boat. Down kinda south of Miami, there is these little bitty islands, called the keys. Don’t ask me why they is called that, but they is tiny little things for the most part. They drove that boat over to a bunch of those small islands, and they threw a bunch of blood into the water. That’s when I saw the scariest thing I ever seen. A bunch of these little fins start circling that bloody water. I think one of my buds started cryin’, course it might have been me too. I ain’t ashamed to say I might have wet myself too. What I will say is I was the lucky one, I was naked as the day I was born, so no clothes to get in the way. They tossed old Burt into the water. He was tied up just like the rest of us, so no way he was swimmin’ anywhere, but he was still all dressed. His clothes soaked up some water, and he started to sink like a stone. Them sharks didn’t go fer him right away. I watched some shows on Animal Planet with my old lady and her kid, and they showed sharks feeding, and it ain’t nothin’ like in the movies. It’s more like they go brushing past to see if you is food or not. If you start thrashin’, and let me tell you Burt was definitely thrashin’ for all he was worth. Then they go foe ya. They seemed almost polite at first, takin’ turns and such. Like “Oh, hello shark old chap, would you care for a bit of a nip?” “Oh well gracious me, I thank you kind sir.” After a few seconds though they all started going for a bit of Burt. That was when they tossed in the rest of us. The drug guys laughed and watched for a bit as we all tried to scream around the duct tape covering our mouths, and then they just started their boat and drove away. Well, like I said, I was the lucky one. First, I didn’t have any clothes to get soaked, and I will say that maybe I like eating my mom’s cooking a bit much. So, unlike my buds, I kinda floated a bit, instead of sinkin’. I remembered that sharks look for thrashin’ to find food, and so I tried to float on my back and pretend I was a log. My luck continued, that is some good and some bad, as no sharks took a bit out of me. Before long a boat even came by to check out the ruckus the sharks had made, unfortunately, it was a Miami sheriff’s boat. I told them a story about pissin’ off some druggies, but I don’t think they believed me. I was stuck in the can for a couple hours, and lots a cops came to ask their share of questions too. Eventually, they gave me a bandaid for my missing pinky, and kicked me out the door. At least they were nice enough to give me some nasty smelling clothes, ‘fore they did it. I called my old lady to pick me up, and I told her a modified version of the truth, and she took me home. I knew better than to go back to my place like nothin’ happened. I figured they knew where I lived, and first place they’d go was back to my place. So, I slipped in through the back window, grabbed some clothes and my hidden stash and ducked back out the same way. No way was my old lady lettin’ me crash at her place, them drug guys would do her and the kid without a thought. Instead, I got smart. Yeah, well I know it was kinda late for it, but better late than never.

I headed back to the storage place. I knew that whoever set us up would come looking for his cash before long. If the drug guys hadn’t found it, then it might still be there. I borrowed a pickup truck from my buddy and went to grab some cash. At least I wasn’t stupid about it. I hid away and watched the place. The cameras were all broke, and while there were some fishy looking people around, none of them could see the door I was going to. I went around back and snipped the fence with some bolt cutters. No need to drive up to the front gate like an idiot. I opened the storage unit, and there they were, just like we left ‘em. I grabbed two boxes at a time, and since the little truck wasn’t big enough to hold ‘em all, I just grabbed 6 boxes. I carried ‘em out by hand, an was home free. I made sure to dump ‘em out in back of the truck, and threw away the RFID tags this time. I just barely got away, when who did I see, one of the guards, the same one that cut off my finger. I made sure I ducked down so he wouldn’t see me, but he went straight for the storage unit, and he knew the combo by heart. Now I knew why we was told not to hurt the guards, ‘cause they was in on it. The bastards. I slipped right up behind him while we was bitchin’ about there not being enough boxes, sorry about that, dude. I hit him with a pipe. I hit him hard, and then I hit him a couple more times. I tossed him back into the unit, I locked the door, and then I called the police and told ‘em that I saw someone bet beat up and thrown into the storage unit. I didn’t need to get involved any more than that. So that’s my story. A couple months later, I took the old lady up to the aquarium and pointed out the kinda shark that bit off my finger. Ok, so I might have glossed up my story a bit. The kid thought it was great, so who am I to disappoint.