Toyota - Let's Go Places!

This was the plan: I go in with Tommy. Vicki's the only one with a car, so she'll circle the block, then park and wait down the street. In hindsight, maybe not the best move.

Tommy's a pro, though, smooth as silk. We're in and out under fifteen minutes toting bags of money. And there we are, on the sidewalk, searching the street. Where the hell is she?

We hear sirens, the cops coming, just blocks away and here Vicki comes creeping round the corner in her Corolla.

We pile in the backseat, screaming: "Go! Go!"

I gotta admit, she got us out of there, by the hair of our chinny chin chins.

Back at the Super 8, divvying up the loot, and Vic's all like, "Didn't want to attract attention, ya know, speeding around ..."

"In your fuckin' Corolla."

That's all I said, and Tommy nearly falls off the bed, laughing his ass off.

"Jesus, Marty, lighten up," he says, choking back another laugh; he shoots me that look o' his, the one that says what ya gonna do?

"Yeah, my fucking Corolla," she's clearly not amused. "Gimme my cut."

"You're a peach, Vic, and your Toyota, too."