A Surprise Party?
Chapter Eight
Gerard spent the rest of the car ride babbling about some 'cool dude' stuff we could do. None of it sounds too realistic, but you never know with Gerard. And it's just really funny to listen to.
"Oh!" He says excitedly for the thousandth time. "I know! We could steal some art!" I laugh. "Frankie don't laugh at me!" he growls like a four year old. I fall into a another fit of giggles and he pouts.
"Okay, okay. Just talk. Though I really don't think I'll be abe to hold some James Bond style heist."
"Alright, but it'd have to be real famous, other wise no one'll give a fuck." He seems to bounce back pretty quickly.....
"Alright."
"Okay, so I know this guy that works at this one museum, and he could sneak us in. We'd have to leave some condescending graffiti just so-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. First, you're for real about this?"
"Of course I'm for real!"
"And second, what on earth is condescending graffiti?"
"Oh. You know, shit about Nixon and stuff. God and shit. Greed, that kinda thing." I nod.
"Okay so-" he continues.
"Wh-"
"Don't cut me off Frankie!"
"What would we even do with the art?"
"I don't know.... Oh! We could hold it hostage!"
"Hold art hostage?"
"Yeah! Like threaten to ruin it and stuff. And then they'd have to pay us money for the art! Or drugs!" I laugh.
"Drugs?" I ask skeptically.
"Drugs Frankie. Learn to live a little."
It continues like that until we reach a dusty little family diner. We both get burgers again, but I decide to live on the wild side and get Uncles Sal's Salad Bar.
We sit at the chipped cream table top. Gerard looks around. Fuck this guy. How can he kick at people curled up on the floor of a bank one day, and look curiously around the world like a little kid the next? Or be a cynical, jaded old fuck one minute, then seconds later be my gay best friend? I giggle to myself.
"Hmmm?" He hums under a mouthful of Aunt Frieda's French Fries.
"Nothing..." I mumble. He swallows and leans in closer to me.
"So I was thinking, now that we're in North Carolina-"
"North Carolina? How?" I ask. "When?"
"You sleep a lot. You really need to quit that. It gets boring...." he digresses "Anyway, now that we're here I was thinking we really need to get on our game. It's een like, what? Four day's since we hit up that place in New Jersey. We need to pick it up. Or we'll never be famous. There's a guy I know here that can house us."
"Why do we need someone to house us?" I thought we were doing just fine on our own.
"Because there's no way we can get out of state after we rob the bank I plan on doing in one night. And I want this one to be bigger and grander."
"The bank you plan on doing? When did you plan this?"
"You sleep a lot."
"Why don't you just let me drive sometimes? We could take turns through the night." Gerard snorts.
"Yeah right. I saw how beat up that pizza boy car was. New damage. Your damage. I'm not letting you touch any car worth stealing."
We spend the night in another dirty 10 room hotel.
"Frankie! Time to get up!" Gerard says excitedly. I groan and open my eyes a tiny bit. It's still dark.
"Why are you waking me up this early?" I groan.
"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." He quotes.
"Since when does that apply to you?" He's already dressed. I sit up and toss my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet just barley touch the floor.
"Since I want to get to the bank by nine o'clock sharp."
"Why?" I stress.
"Rush hour."
We drive I doze off and on in the car. We meet a sign that reads JOCH POP. 107,849. Pretty big city.
"Do banks even have a rush hour?" I complain, still groggy.
"Well, not really. I just thought it'd sound really cool if in the newspapers it said we came in at nine sharp."
"Oh my God....." I groan. Gerard laughs.
"Now get your shit together Frankie, we're almost there."
After a bit we pull into the small parking lot of Joch, North Carolina's stately looking 1st National Bank.
"We're gonna have to get a hostage for a getway driver this time." We had already gotten our things situated in a nearby alleyway.
"How do we know they won't just drive away?" I ask.
"Oh, I'll just threaten to kill everyone. It's always worked in the past." He smirks.
As we walk up to the front door Gerard gets right on the heels of this guy in an orange t-shirt and a huge 'fro in front of us. He clamps a hard on one of his shoulders.
"Where's your car?" Gerard mutters into his ear as he lightly pushes the gun into the mans back. This guy knows what going down.
"It's the red chevy truck." He mumbles, already defeated.
"Good, Good."
"Alright! Everybody on the ground!" Gerard shouts. Everyone drops. "It's your turn now, Frankie. Stand up fucking tall and let them see your face." he says softly in my ear before he walks to man the door. God. Damn.
"Alright." I whisper to myself. I walk over to the bank teller. Jane, her name tag says. I can do this.
"I want," Fuck, I don't even know how much to ask for. No. Demand. "100,000."
"I heard about you guys. You don't have to work for him. I can call the cops. It's okay." Jane leans in and whispers to me. Oh, she's got fucking balls.
"Now listen, I want this just as much. Maybe even more. Now the money." I mutter so viciously it scares even me. She goes to the back to get the money.
I strut around like Gerard did that first time. I don't kick though. That's kinda his thing. But what he said, about being God. It was true. He was God, and now I'm God. I finally have some fucking control.
"You hear that? I'm no fucking hostage." I make clear to the people.
"You!" I point my gun at a business type looking man. He looks up at me in horror , dreading what I have to say.
"Why are you hear?"
"I-I came to cash a check."
"For how much?"
"200."
"Quite a bit." He nods too quickly.
"And what will that money do for you?"
"I planned on buying a new t.v. set." He answers with much hesitation.
"And what will that t.v. set do for you?" I ask.
"I-I...Um... Nothing." He finally chokes out.
"Nothing." I repeat in a soothing tone. I grin at the man. "Nothing!" I repeat. I stalk away from him "You're all here for money! And what'll it do for you? Nothing! Will money help you when your dead! No! Will money help you in a war? No! Will money help you when everyone you know fucking hates you?" I see the sack of money on the counter.
"Possibly." I say in a saucy tone before Gerard and I run out and jump in the back of our getaway drovers red chevy truck.
"Oh!" He says excitedly for the thousandth time. "I know! We could steal some art!" I laugh. "Frankie don't laugh at me!" he growls like a four year old. I fall into a another fit of giggles and he pouts.
"Okay, okay. Just talk. Though I really don't think I'll be abe to hold some James Bond style heist."
"Alright, but it'd have to be real famous, other wise no one'll give a fuck." He seems to bounce back pretty quickly.....
"Alright."
"Okay, so I know this guy that works at this one museum, and he could sneak us in. We'd have to leave some condescending graffiti just so-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. First, you're for real about this?"
"Of course I'm for real!"
"And second, what on earth is condescending graffiti?"
"Oh. You know, shit about Nixon and stuff. God and shit. Greed, that kinda thing." I nod.
"Okay so-" he continues.
"Wh-"
"Don't cut me off Frankie!"
"What would we even do with the art?"
"I don't know.... Oh! We could hold it hostage!"
"Hold art hostage?"
"Yeah! Like threaten to ruin it and stuff. And then they'd have to pay us money for the art! Or drugs!" I laugh.
"Drugs?" I ask skeptically.
"Drugs Frankie. Learn to live a little."
It continues like that until we reach a dusty little family diner. We both get burgers again, but I decide to live on the wild side and get Uncles Sal's Salad Bar.
We sit at the chipped cream table top. Gerard looks around. Fuck this guy. How can he kick at people curled up on the floor of a bank one day, and look curiously around the world like a little kid the next? Or be a cynical, jaded old fuck one minute, then seconds later be my gay best friend? I giggle to myself.
"Hmmm?" He hums under a mouthful of Aunt Frieda's French Fries.
"Nothing..." I mumble. He swallows and leans in closer to me.
"So I was thinking, now that we're in North Carolina-"
"North Carolina? How?" I ask. "When?"
"You sleep a lot. You really need to quit that. It gets boring...." he digresses "Anyway, now that we're here I was thinking we really need to get on our game. It's een like, what? Four day's since we hit up that place in New Jersey. We need to pick it up. Or we'll never be famous. There's a guy I know here that can house us."
"Why do we need someone to house us?" I thought we were doing just fine on our own.
"Because there's no way we can get out of state after we rob the bank I plan on doing in one night. And I want this one to be bigger and grander."
"The bank you plan on doing? When did you plan this?"
"You sleep a lot."
"Why don't you just let me drive sometimes? We could take turns through the night." Gerard snorts.
"Yeah right. I saw how beat up that pizza boy car was. New damage. Your damage. I'm not letting you touch any car worth stealing."
We spend the night in another dirty 10 room hotel.
"Frankie! Time to get up!" Gerard says excitedly. I groan and open my eyes a tiny bit. It's still dark.
"Why are you waking me up this early?" I groan.
"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." He quotes.
"Since when does that apply to you?" He's already dressed. I sit up and toss my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet just barley touch the floor.
"Since I want to get to the bank by nine o'clock sharp."
"Why?" I stress.
"Rush hour."
We drive I doze off and on in the car. We meet a sign that reads JOCH POP. 107,849. Pretty big city.
"Do banks even have a rush hour?" I complain, still groggy.
"Well, not really. I just thought it'd sound really cool if in the newspapers it said we came in at nine sharp."
"Oh my God....." I groan. Gerard laughs.
"Now get your shit together Frankie, we're almost there."
After a bit we pull into the small parking lot of Joch, North Carolina's stately looking 1st National Bank.
"We're gonna have to get a hostage for a getway driver this time." We had already gotten our things situated in a nearby alleyway.
"How do we know they won't just drive away?" I ask.
"Oh, I'll just threaten to kill everyone. It's always worked in the past." He smirks.
As we walk up to the front door Gerard gets right on the heels of this guy in an orange t-shirt and a huge 'fro in front of us. He clamps a hard on one of his shoulders.
"Where's your car?" Gerard mutters into his ear as he lightly pushes the gun into the mans back. This guy knows what going down.
"It's the red chevy truck." He mumbles, already defeated.
"Good, Good."
"Alright! Everybody on the ground!" Gerard shouts. Everyone drops. "It's your turn now, Frankie. Stand up fucking tall and let them see your face." he says softly in my ear before he walks to man the door. God. Damn.
"Alright." I whisper to myself. I walk over to the bank teller. Jane, her name tag says. I can do this.
"I want," Fuck, I don't even know how much to ask for. No. Demand. "100,000."
"I heard about you guys. You don't have to work for him. I can call the cops. It's okay." Jane leans in and whispers to me. Oh, she's got fucking balls.
"Now listen, I want this just as much. Maybe even more. Now the money." I mutter so viciously it scares even me. She goes to the back to get the money.
I strut around like Gerard did that first time. I don't kick though. That's kinda his thing. But what he said, about being God. It was true. He was God, and now I'm God. I finally have some fucking control.
"You hear that? I'm no fucking hostage." I make clear to the people.
"You!" I point my gun at a business type looking man. He looks up at me in horror , dreading what I have to say.
"Why are you hear?"
"I-I came to cash a check."
"For how much?"
"200."
"Quite a bit." He nods too quickly.
"And what will that money do for you?"
"I planned on buying a new t.v. set." He answers with much hesitation.
"And what will that t.v. set do for you?" I ask.
"I-I...Um... Nothing." He finally chokes out.
"Nothing." I repeat in a soothing tone. I grin at the man. "Nothing!" I repeat. I stalk away from him "You're all here for money! And what'll it do for you? Nothing! Will money help you when your dead! No! Will money help you in a war? No! Will money help you when everyone you know fucking hates you?" I see the sack of money on the counter.
"Possibly." I say in a saucy tone before Gerard and I run out and jump in the back of our getaway drovers red chevy truck.
I stayed up till 4 am reading this and I have absolutely no regrets <3
10/29/15