Not sure who first coined the phrase crime doesn't pay. But, one thing's for sure,
whoever the hell said it was a fucking genius.
whoever the hell said it was a fucking genius.
Incidentals by Patrick Cooper
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“Hey
boss, it’s me. Everything went off smooth.”
“No
problems?”
“None.
It was just like you said, in and out.”
“And
nobody got hurt?”
“Not
a hair on anyone’s head. Honest to God. It was like they wanted to get robbed.”
“That’s
fine. And where are you now?”
“At
the warehouse. We just finished counting everything. Christ, it’s a lot.”
“What’s
a lot?”
“$125K.”
“More
than we expected then?”
“Ho
yeah.”
“And
the van?”
“Torched
it under the highway. All like we planned, boss.”
“Very
good, Harry. And you’re to burn the jumpsuits and masks, right?”
“Steve’s
doing that right now, yeah. Everything’s taken care of. There’s a barrel out
back he’s doing it in, then we’ll toss the guns in the river.”
“Very,
very good, Harry. Now remember my cut is $75K, okay?”
“Of
course. I’m not gonna haggle over the take. If it was a bitch, maybe I would.
But this was a cakewalk.”
“Good.
So it’s 75 for me, and you and Steve split the 50.”
“25
each, yeah we know.”
“Not
bad for a morning’s work, ay?”
“Got
that right.”
“Of
course there are the incidentals.”
“…I’m
sorry?”
“Expenses,
Harry. It was part of the deal. I hand you the job, provide all the details,
you rip it off and cover the incidentals.”
“I’m
not sure I understand what you’re getting at, boss.”
“I’ll
talk slower. I did all the research, provided you with all the details, and
bankrolled the whole thing with my own money. All you had to do was walk in,
wave a gun around, and walk out with the bags.”
“Okay…”
“The
jumpsuits, for instance. They were cheap at $150 a piece.”
“They
were comfortable, I’ll give you that. But slow down a sec…”
“The
gorilla masks were $75 a piece.”
“Are
you serious?!”
“It
is Halloween time, Harry. I suggested ski masks, like a normal person, but Steve
insisted on the gorilla masks.”
“Fucking
Steve.”
“If
it was after Halloween maybe the masks would’ve been on sale. The combat boots,
which you insisted on, were $120 a pair…”
“I
wanted the good kind, like we had in the army.”
“And
that costs money.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re using a printing
calculator right now aren’t you? I can hear it.”
“The
printing calculator was $89.”
“Now
wait a goddamn second…”
“The
burner phone you’re talking on was $550.”
“I
could’ve used my own phone! I told you that!”
“Harry,
you own a flip phone. Welcome to
2015, my friend. You needed one with a GPS app in case you got lost. Everyone
knows these new iPhones are the best.”
“Can
I at least give it to my kid? She’s been begging for one.”
“Absolutely
not, it has to be torched when this call is over.”
“I
don’t believe this.”
“The
guns. Now they weren’t cheap.”
“Of
course not. You wouldn’t let me use my father’s old service pistol.”
“Please
Harry, act like a professional. The guns I bought special off my guy in Rhode Island.
They came out to a nice round number. $500.”
“That’s
not so bad.”
“For
fuck’s sake.”
“The
walkies, which I still think were pointless since there were only two of you,
they cost $120 each.”
“Fucking
Steve.”
“Finally,
the van. I bought it from a guy in New Hampshire who sells clean cars to dirty
people. That set me back $22,000.”
“I
don’t even make that in a year.”
“Well
now if you split the rest…your take comes out to…$12,715 and fifty cents each.”
“That’s
half of what we were supposed to get.”
“Which
is not half bad for a morning’s work. I’ll see you at the drop tomorrow night.”
“Yeah,
see you.”
*click*
“Hey
Steve.”
“All
the shit’s burned up. What’s going on?”
“Did
you toss the guns yet?”
“Not
yet, why?”
“You
know the boss’ address?”
