Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

For the 48 Hour Short Story Contest

They called him Twinklefingers, they did, and he was head of the Twinkle Gang. Now don't you start smiling at the name, there was nothing cute about that gang, there wasn't. They had the best of the best in the trade, they did - from pickpockets to forgers to shoplifters. And Twinklefingers himself, he specialised in bank robberies, he did.

It was a black night indeed for the gang when Twinklefingers was caught by the guard while on a job at the country bank. Some said he had gotten a bit too cocky, he had, thinking a small bank like that wouldn't be overburdened with security. Others said the planets didn't align right that day, and he shouldn't have planned a heist at all. The bank manager said the guard was a smart guy and the bank was a smart employer, and to add insult to injury, they hung Twinklefingers's gun up right under the head of the stag the manager had shot.

So when Twinklefingers completed his sentence to walk free again, the whole gang met him at the jail gate. Twinkletoes had planned a beach party, with beach volleyball and lots of good stuff to eat and drink. There were dancing girls, too, Hawaiian ones complete with grass skirts, each with a daisy behind her left ear. Out at sea, a canoe with a banner saying "Welcome Chief" floated for all to marvel at.

But Twinklefingers didn't enjoy the party as much as he should've. Not even the grass of the skirt tickling his nose could make him smile. He was thinking of his gun, he was. And how that gun was being displayed there, and pointed out to every visitor. It had even been in the newspapers, that gun with that great stag head looming over it. He had to get his gun back, he did, or his pride would be injured forever.

Twinklefingers wasn't one to sit around and mope over spilled beer or confiscated weapons, he wasn't. He had to get moving and get that gun back, he did. And he was going to do it now. He was no longer inside, he was outside, and he didn't want to waste time getting sand between his toes or letting leggy females get between anything.

So wen he got Twinklepie to himself for a minute, Twinklefingers muttered, "We've got to rob the bank, we have."

"You were just in for robbing the bank, boss," Twinklepie muttered cautiously. It wouldn't do to appear to contradict the boss on his first day back.

"I don't want to rob it off money this time, I want to rob it off my gun. I couldn't sleep nights, I couldn't, thinking of it dangling there."

Twinklepie smiled. "Your gun? Now that should be easy," he said. "Hey Twinklesweet, get over here."

One of the dancers detached herself from the group and pranced over the sand to them. "Yes, Pie, what is it?" she cooed.

Twinklepie reached out and took the daisy from her ear. "Doesn't that daisy show you're available?" he barked. "You're not. You belong to me."

"Yes, Pie, I do. And no, the daisy doesn't signify. What did you want me for?"

"Remember the gun? The gun they got hanging at the bank?"

"Sure I do. Can't forget it, can I? It's been in all the papers. Sorry, boss."

Twinklefingers had growled at the last sentence.

"Well, boss wants the gun back. Can you get it for him?"

Twinklesweet put a hand over Twinklepie's eyes, leaned over and kissed Twinklefingers on the cheek. "Boss want his gun back, boss get it," she promised. "May I borrow the canoe?"

Twinklepie shoved her hand off his face and said, "Sure you may borrow the canoe. What do you want it for?"

"To row to the other side of the shore to get closer to the bank to get the gun for the boss, what else? No, don't take the banner down, people won't raise their eyebrows if they think it's a gimmick."

Twinklepie gazed after her, misty eyed, as she made her way to the edge of the sea and then just continued walking in, then swimming, till she got to the canoe.

"My Sweetie is the best," he murmured. Grudgingly, Twinklefingers agreed.

Twinklesweet climbed into the canoe, cut the extra-long mooring rope that was holding it, and rowed off. The banner fluttered.

*********

"May I help you?" the teller asked.

"Yes, honey, I'd like to open an account, I would. Let me see the manager, won't you?"

The teller, noting Twinklesweet's stylish attire, decided it was okay to disregard the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on her boss's door. A rich depositor was worth disturbing even the bank president for, as every employee knew.

"This is a nice office you got, darling," Twinklesweet cooed as she sat daintily down on the visitor's chair.

"Thank you. How may I help you?" the manager asked, leaning forward a bit to get a better whiff of her perfume.

"Well, I have a few hundred thousand dollars, you know, honey. I need a good strong bank with a good strong manager to look after them for me."

"Our bank will he happy to have your account, and I shall handle it personally."

"You're a big strong man, aren't you? Quite the hunter, from what I saw on the outside wall."

"Oh yes, that stag, I shot it myself."

"With a shotgun, too."

"Shotgun? No, madam, I used a --"

"Oh, then that gun just under it, that wasn't the one you shot the stag with?"

The manager leaned back and laughed. He loved it when people asked about the gun. He recounted the story of how the bank had acquired it, with much guffawing.

"Well, darling, that was so clever of your bank, I'm sure," Twinklesweet chirped. "Now having heard the story, I must just hold that gun in my tiny hands, to remind myself what a strong bank with a strong manager I'm giving my dollars to."

"Yes, yes, certainly, I'll have it brought here immediately for you to hold."

The manager pressed a button on his desk, a boy answered the summons and was given his orders. The gun was to be brought there.

"Aw, aren't you a honey, then," Twinklesweet sighed. "I just know this bank and I are going to get along real well."

The boy came in with the gun. Twinklesweet waited till he had put it on the desk. Then she said, "And boy, make sure we're not disturbed here, won't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, exiting and closing the door behind him.

Twinklesweet opened her purse. She pulled out two scarves. One orange, one yellow. With the orange one, she gagged the manager. With the yellow one, she tied his wrists to his chair. It was all done so fast, the man had no time to say 'That woman's got the gun!' or anything else.

Twinklesweet put the gun in her purse. She leaned across and (since his mouth was gagged) gave the manager a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you ever so, honey. I won't forget this favour you've done me and my boss."

She went to the door, opened it and stepped out into the bank. On her way out, she called, "Nice stag you have watching over you," to the teller.

All Words: 1223

"Entry"