weeks
before Christmas,’ I add, because I’ve figured that if I can’t beat
them I’ve either got to join them or get out of the living room,
and I’m far too hung-over to seriously contemplate peeling my arse
off the sofa.
‘Freddy gets a
tick,’ Charlie responds. ‘Sundance over here doesn’t.’
‘That’s
definitely the date we agreed,’ I contend.
‘Times change,
my lad. We’re hitting the second day of the January sales now.’
‘But why?’
‘Gives us more
time to plan, and there’ll probably be even more money in the tills
and the safe. Plus, we won’t have to Grinch a load of kids out of
their Christmas,’ he explains.
‘Oh.’
‘That not
sound acceptable to you?’
‘It would have
been nice to at least get a say,’ I reply, sulkily. Charlie and
Freddy turn to each other and chuckle.
‘A minute ago
you were trying to convince us not to do it at all! You’ve got to
earn your say back, mate.’
‘Times
change,’ I tell him, feeling a sense of pride kicking in. ‘So, I
guess our next step is working out what we’re going to need for
this little exercise in stupidity-’
‘Guns!’
Charlie suddenly jumps in.
‘Balaclavas,’
adds Freddy.
‘Grenades!’
adds Charlie.
‘Matching
black trench coats,’ adds Freddy.
‘Samurai
swords!’ Charlie shouts, bouncing up and down on the seat
slightly.
‘I was
thinking more along the lines of how many people we’re going to
need,’ I say, cutting off Charlie’s train of thought before he
starts surfing the internet for a place to buy SCUD missiles.
‘Charlie, what the fuck would we need samurai swords
for?’
‘For when we
run out of bullets,’ he shrugs.
‘To be fair,’
Freddy interjects. ‘I think my granddad actually did smuggle
a grenade back from France in the forties, so that one is
technically doable.’
‘Sorry, but
you’ve forced me to ask:’ I say, incredulously. ‘How many people
are you two planning on killing?’
‘None if we
can help it, but I was just thinking we should make preparations
for if it all goes a bit like the last twenty minutes of Heat ,’ Charlie replies.
‘I can’t speak
for you guys, but if I’ve got a dozen coppers pointing guns
at me, I’m tying my soiled underpants to a stick and using them as
a white flag. Armed robbery gets you eight years, parole after four
if you don’t shank anybody. You blow a police offer’s brains all
over a shopping mall, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight
again.’
‘Where’d you
get that from?’ Charlie asks.
‘I was doing
some research the other night.’
‘I wondered
where my laptop went.’
‘You can’t
expect me to do it on mine, can you? The thing’s held together with
scotch tape. The battery sounds like it’s powered by a load of
cockroaches on treadmills. Anyway, one night without wanking won’t
have hurt you.’
Charlie lays
back and sighs to himself.
‘So much for
the “glorious death” idea, then,’ he laments. I’m pretty sure he’s
just taking the piss. I hope he’s just taking the piss, anyway.
‘I’m all for
going out in a blaze of glory, as long as it doesn’t hurt and it
happens when I’m eighty-five,’ I reply.
‘We’re going a
bit off-point here, gentlemen,’ warns Freddy. ‘I believe we were
supposed to be talking numbers?’
‘Yeah, we
were,’ I say, glad to get off the subject of my own premature
demise.
‘I also
believe I should be the one to take over from here,’ Freddy
continues, ‘because this is exactly what I’ve spent the last hour
or so puzzling over.’
‘Alright, hit
me.’
‘Okay, here
goes. When we first get into the shop, I figure we need two people
on crowd control, at least. January sales means the place is gonna
be packed to the rafters, so I reckon we need to just get everyone
on the ground floor the fuck out of there as soon as we can, then
we can concentrate on taking everyone on the second floor as
hostages to buy us some time with the police if shit
before Christmas,’ I add, because I’ve figured that if I can’t beat
them I’ve either got to join them or get out of the living room,
and I’m far too hung-over to seriously contemplate peeling my arse
off the sofa.
‘Freddy gets a
tick,’ Charlie responds. ‘Sundance over here doesn’t.’
‘That’s
definitely the date we agreed,’ I contend.
‘Times change,
my lad. We’re hitting the second day of the January sales now.’
‘But why?’
‘Gives us more
time to plan, and there’ll probably be even more money in the tills
and the safe. Plus, we won’t have to Grinch a load of kids out of
their Christmas,’ he explains.
‘Oh.’
‘That not
sound acceptable to you?’
‘It would have
been nice to at least get a say,’ I reply, sulkily. Charlie and
Freddy turn to each other and chuckle.
‘A minute ago
you were trying to convince us not to do it at all! You’ve got to
earn your say back, mate.’
‘Times
change,’ I tell him, feeling a sense of pride kicking in. ‘So, I
guess our next step is working out what we’re going to need for
this little exercise in stupidity-’
‘Guns!’
Charlie suddenly jumps in.
‘Balaclavas,’
adds Freddy.
‘Grenades!’
adds Charlie.
‘Matching
black trench coats,’ adds Freddy.
‘Samurai
swords!’ Charlie shouts, bouncing up and down on the seat
slightly.
‘I was
thinking more along the lines of how many people we’re going to
need,’ I say, cutting off Charlie’s train of thought before he
starts surfing the internet for a place to buy SCUD missiles.
‘Charlie, what the fuck would we need samurai swords
for?’
‘For when we
run out of bullets,’ he shrugs.
‘To be fair,’
Freddy interjects. ‘I think my granddad actually did smuggle
a grenade back from France in the forties, so that one is
technically doable.’
‘Sorry, but
you’ve forced me to ask:’ I say, incredulously. ‘How many people
are you two planning on killing?’
‘None if we
can help it, but I was just thinking we should make preparations
for if it all goes a bit like the last twenty minutes of Heat ,’ Charlie replies.
‘I can’t speak
for you guys, but if I’ve got a dozen coppers pointing guns
at me, I’m tying my soiled underpants to a stick and using them as
a white flag. Armed robbery gets you eight years, parole after four
if you don’t shank anybody. You blow a police offer’s brains all
over a shopping mall, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight
again.’
‘Where’d you
get that from?’ Charlie asks.
‘I was doing
some research the other night.’
‘I wondered
where my laptop went.’
‘You can’t
expect me to do it on mine, can you? The thing’s held together with
scotch tape. The battery sounds like it’s powered by a load of
cockroaches on treadmills. Anyway, one night without wanking won’t
have hurt you.’
Charlie lays
back and sighs to himself.
‘So much for
the “glorious death” idea, then,’ he laments. I’m pretty sure he’s
just taking the piss. I hope he’s just taking the piss, anyway.
‘I’m all for
going out in a blaze of glory, as long as it doesn’t hurt and it
happens when I’m eighty-five,’ I reply.
‘We’re going a
bit off-point here, gentlemen,’ warns Freddy. ‘I believe we were
supposed to be talking numbers?’
‘Yeah, we
were,’ I say, glad to get off the subject of my own premature
demise.
‘I also
believe I should be the one to take over from here,’ Freddy
continues, ‘because this is exactly what I’ve spent the last hour
or so puzzling over.’
‘Alright, hit
me.’
‘Okay, here
goes. When we first get into the shop, I figure we need two people
on crowd control, at least. January sales means the place is gonna
be packed to the rafters, so I reckon we need to just get everyone
on the ground floor the fuck out of there as soon as we can, then
we can concentrate on taking everyone on the second floor as
hostages to buy us some time with the police if shit
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