The bank just sits there, innocent, waiting to be robbed. So I thought, free money. How can I pass up a chance like that?
I rooted around in the bedroom closet, found an old pair of underpants (clean, mind you), and cut myself a mask. Then I pulled out some drab clothes that wouldn't ID me on camera.
Gassed up the car, planned my escape route, and was on my way to the easy life. But as Robert Burns wrote, "the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men ang aft agley."
One good thing, though. Prison food isn't all that bad.
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