Bank Robbers

I had just pulled my car into the driveway and was getting out, when a large black Lincoln pulled in behind me. The rear door of the Lincoln opened and a large beefy man emerged holding what looked to me to be a .44 magnum revolver which he pointed directly at my chest.

"This is a stick-up," he said with an oily smile. "Hand over your wallet, and I'll relieve you of whatever cash you're carrying."

"Who are you?" I blurted out in spite of the threat of the gun.

"I'm a representative of Conglomerated Mercantile Bank of New York (a Delaware corporation) and we need your money," he replied while casually smoothing the lapel of his expensive Italian suit with his free hand.

"Didn't your bank just get several billions dollars in bail-out money? Why do you need my cash as well?"

"We're just trying to tidy up the books, since we used a few millions of the bail-out money to pay ourselves large bonuses and send ourselves to expensive resorts for "retreats". You know, compensate ourselves for what we're really worth to the company, and to show the feds that we're taking in real money and not just those toxic investments. Now hand over your cash!" He cocked the gun and held out his free hand, palm up.

Swallowing hard, I took out my wallet and fished out what cash I had, a total of seventeen dollars, and handed it over. He gestured toward my pants pockets with the gun and I managed to come up with and additional twenty-three cents in loose change.

"Now the credit cards," he said.

I started to fish them out of my wallet, but he shook his head, grinning. "I don't need you to give them to me. We'll just take it out in payments. We're raising your rate to 30%. If you don't like that, you can just pay off your balance."

He lowered the gun as he climbed back into the Lincoln. "I gotta run," he said. "I have a lot of other 'clients' to hit up today, and by the way, have a nice day."