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by Sumojo
Rated: E · Fiction · Drama · #2275082
Bungling thieves try to rob a warehouse.

'It'll be easy money, mate.'

'Yeah, Jack, so you said'

'So? You interested?'

'Let me get this straight. You sure you can get rid of the stuff?'

'No probs, mate.'

'Who's driving? You got vehicles and drivers sorted out yet?'

'Yeah, Fred's on board. He'll get the trucks, Y’know he’s reliable.'

There was a long pause before Dan answered. 'Okay, mate. I'm in.'

'I've got Pete doing the alarms. We'll be in and out in a couple of hours.'

'Pete? You sure he's up to the job? He's getting a bit long in the tooth.'

'He'll be fine. It's an old warehouse, I can't imagine they'd have 'state-of-the art' security.'

'You checked the CCTV cameras on the street?'

'Yeah, don't worry, Danny boy. Everything's been thought of. It'll be a piece of piss, mate.'

'It'll take a bit of time loading the trucks. We'll need a bit of muscle. How many of us will there be?'

There's us and Pete. Fred'll be driving one truck and a couple of his lads are going to help load.'

'Mmm, that's six. Are you sure it's worth it? You got a fence?'

'No trouble there, Danny. I've got a buyer just waiting. It'll be shipped out of the country in no time. I just need your place to store it for a week at the most.'

'Righto, let me know when you need me.' Danny ended the call.


On the night of the heist, thick cloud cover blocked what little light there was from the thin sliver of a new moon.

Two trucks drove quietly through the streets of the Industrial Estate before slowing down as they approached the factory. Engines were silenced, and the passengers waited.

Jack hoisted his heavy body out of the first truck and stood under the light of a single street lamp. The gates to the warehouse in front of him sported a large padlock and a sign. He closed the distance between him and the gates before removing his glasses from his top pocket.

He read:
Beware.These premises are patrolled by dangerous guard dogs.

The would-be thief returned to the truck and grabbed a newspaper-wrapped parcel.

'Come on and get it, boys,' he yelled, as he threw the drug-laced meat over the high wall. Jack listened with satisfaction to the dogs ripping into it, before going back to to wait.

After thirty minutes, he left the truck again, this time armed with a bolt cutter which he used to cut off the padlock and chain on the metal gates. There were no sounds from the guard dogs, so he pushed the gates wide open before beckoning to the drivers of the two trucks to follow him into the warehouse carpark.

The men were dressed in dark clothing, balaclavas and gloves. No one spoke as they followed Jack into the darkened buildings.

Sixty-year-old Pete had disabled the cameras on the street with no problems. He had first met Jack when they shared a cell in Pentrich Prison and been an ace with alarm systems, although he admitted they were a bit more high tech than they used to be back in the old days. He set to work on the alarm on the wall just inside the entrance.

'Easy Peasy, mate,' he whispered, sticking up a thumb to let Jack know it was safe.

'Good job,' Jack replied.

The six thieves switched on their head torches and looked around at the vast space.

Wooden pallets as high as the roof were stacked on top of one another.

'Righto, Danny,' Jack pointed to a forklift, ‘get it started and we'll be out of here in a couple of hours I reckon.' He turned to Fred, who was standing gaping at the huge amount of loot they were about to steal, 'Bring the trucks in as close as you can to the loading bay, Fred.'

Fred nodded and beckoned to the other driver to follow him outside.

'Shit, they certainly have got the market cornered,' Dan gazed at all thousands of boxes all packed ready for the Chinese market.

'Someone will have a bit of a surprise tomorrow when they see all their stuff's been nicked.' Pete laughed.

'Come on, fellas, we've no time to stand and talk. Let's get cracking and get this lot loaded. There's more than I thought though. Maybe we should have brought three trucks,' Jack grunted and began to shift some boxes.

It took longer than they'd allowed for, and signs of the approaching dawn appeared in the eastern sky just as they loaded the last box.

'My prostate's playing up, Jack, gotta to take a piss. You go, I'll turn the alarm back on before I close the doors.' Pete was already unzipped and a steady flow of urine hit a power point. A jolt of electricity raced up his urine stream, which caused Pete to turn suddenly and hit the emergency switch on the alarm. A high- pitched, ear-splitting howl emitted from the alarm.

Jack turned around and went back into the warehouse. He saw old Pete writhing on the floor, holding his crotch.

'What the hell happened?'

Pete couldn't speak, but got to his feet and staggered outside.

The alarm's siren still sounded as Jack followed and helped his mate climb up into the cabin.

As he did, he heard a low growl behind him and saw one of the guard dogs, teeth bared and snarling.

'The bloody alarm must have woke him up.' he thought, but stood stock still, afraid if he made one move the dog would pounce.

The dog glared, as if he knew he'd been tricked into eating something he shouldn't have.

So to make amends, he took a big bite of Jack's ankle, and didn't let go.

Dan, who was waiting to drive the truck, climbed out to lend a hand to his distressed passengers. The dog let go of Jack and instead went for Dan's jugular, pinning him down on the floor.

Fred, in the driver's seat of the second truck, watched in dismay as what had been a flawless robbery suddenly began to disintegrate before his eyes.

"I think we should get out of here guys, looks like the others are sorting some shit out." But before he could reverse enough to get out of the gate, a couple of police cars tried to block the entrance.

'Shit! We're done for if I can't get us out of here.' Fred floored the accelerator and reversed. clipping one of the police cars as he did so. His tyres screeched as he tore away the police car in hot pursuit, sirens on and lights flashing.

'Well, look who we have here?' A police officer took Pete's free arm. The other hand was between his legs, and a pained expression was still written all over his face.

'Hi, Sergeant Riley,' Pete squeaked.

'Not learned your lesson yet, Pete?'

Pete didn't answer, as he hobbled to the open rear door of the police car and sat down.

Jack remained on the damp concrete, nursing his ankle and peeling off his blood- soaked sock.

'Keep that bloody dog away from me,' he shied away when the dog appeared to consider having another go at him.

'The owner is on his way, Sarge.' An officer informed his superior.

'Thanks, Constable,' Sergeant Riley answered, as he hauled Jack from the floor and escorted him in to the back seat with Pete and Danny.

'Jack Webster, fancy seeing you here. You've set your sights a bit lower, haven't you?'

'I'm saying nothing, Sarge.' Jack muttered.

'Thought you preferred robbing banks?'

Jack had nothing to say.

On the way to the station the police car came across Fred’s truck rolled over on a sharp bend, its load of boxes scattered all over the road. The three criminals sat on the verge, surrounded by paramedics and police. An ambulance had been called to take the injured to the hospital.

"Everyone okay, officer?' Sergeant Riley inquired when he stopped to ask if further assistance was required.

'All good, sir.' Things went to crap for the crims, they've had a bit of a shit storm.'

The officer nodded to all the stolen goods strewn all over the road.


The six offenders all faced court together a few weeks later.

The judge looked over his glasses at the miscreants standing before him. 'You are all charged that on the 13th July 2020, you did unlawfully enter the premises of The Midland Warehouse on Farrell Road, Midvale, intending to steal a large amount of goods. How do you plead?'

They all declared themselves to be guilty as charged.

The magistrate who had the unfortunate name of Judge Crooks, fortunately, had a sense of humour. He removed his wire-framed glasses before he spoke. He seemed to be carefully considering his words.

'Well, gentlemen, the end is near. From where I'm sitting, I'd say the whole debacle was a total wipe out. What were you expecting when you tried to steal a warehouse full of toilet paper? A really, really, bad case of diarrhoea?'
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