4. (Bitter) Sweet Revenge
Amy Murphy neglected to read the ridiculously detailed prenuptial agreement. The bitter, one-sided divorce left her penniless. She has hired Sticky, a small-time criminal, to help her steal her prized possessions.
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Sticky: Do you have the entry code?
Amy: Of course I do. It is my home.
Sticky: It used to be your home.
Amy: Okay, it used to be my home.
Sticky: Just asking. We need to get in and out as quickly as possible.
Amy: This isn’t an ‘Ocean’s’ movie, you know.
Sticky: Exactly. We need to get in and out as quickly as possible.
Amy: Slow down, for Christ’s sake. You are driving like a madman. We have all night.
Sticky: It is just that—
Amy: Say it again, and I will jam these keys in your eyes.
Sticky: Just sayin’.
Amy: Stop sayin’.
Sticky: Listen, everyone is nervous doing their first job. You are in good hands.
Lord, this guy is a Class A idiot. Her girlfriend told her to hire a pro, but the thought, why spend all that money when she could find a nitwit who would do the job for a bottle of Canadian Club?
Well, you get what you pay for. Isn’t that what they say? They are knee deep now. She will get it done, pay him off, and get the hell out of town.
Amy: You are right. I could not have done this without you.
Sticky: Exactly, babe. Chill. We’ll do this up good and proper and then head to Denny’s for an all-day breakfast. Right as rain.
Okay, so it will cost her a bottle of Canadian Club and an all-day breakfast. $20 max.
She will make a fortune selling the jewels. She is not greedy, but they are hers, and she will get nothing else out of that damn fool marriage.
Sticky: Are you okay?
Amy: Yeah, sure. Just thinking about my new life.
Sticky: You mean our new life, babe.
Amy: Yes, our new life, babe.
Sticky: So, Mexico. I have been there a few times. Well, the border cities. Mostly the brothels, to be honest. I’ll warn you, babe, it ain’t the same as America. You know that, but I’m just saying. I have seen it first hand. And I don’t mean just the language. Do you speak Spanish?
Amy: No.
Sticky: No worries. We can find a translator. Pennies a day. Street grub, hotel room, we’re all set. Live on a few bucks a day if we are careful.
Amy: Of course.
Sticky: Do you have a fence lined up?
Amy: You mean the border wall?
Sticky: No, silly. Someone to handle your jewels.
Amy: I thought I would just sell them.
Sticky: Sure, if you don’t mind going to jail. Your husband will tell the cops about the robbery, and no one will touch the goods.
The idiot is probably right. But they are her jewels. She is simply taking them back.
Okay, okay. She will steal some cash as well. Enough to get out of the country. She can look for a fence later.
Amy: Well, I will leave those details in your capable hands.
Sticky: Right as rain.
Amy: Okay, next left and then the next left after that.
Sticky: Some neighborhood, babe. You did well.
Amy: I almost did well. If not for the prenup. He really screwed me.
Sticky: Now you’re gonna screw him. Circle of life.
Great. They have gone from “Ocean’s 11” to “The Lion King.” Honestly, she might lock him in the house, steal his car, and head for Mexico on her own. Brothels and all.
Amy: Okay. Number 3065. Pull up a bit. Under that tree. Away from the street lights.
Sticky: I know all that, babe.
Amy: Okay. Let’s go.
Sticky: Quick and dirty. What? I didn’t say that before, did I?
Aside from the street light, the rest of the street is dark. It is 3:30 a.m. No one is awake. Beauty sleep and all that.
Amy: Okay. Here we go.
Sticky: Punch in the code, babe.
Amy: I will punch in the code.
Sticky: Steady on.
She punches in 190087. Red light. What the hell does that mean?
Sticky: Wrong code, babe. Try again.
She tries again. 190087. Red light. Fuck, fuck. Another bum number and it will lock up completely for 10 minutes. Screw it. 190087. It shuts down.
Sticky: Okay, we better roll, babe. Lockdown on this model goes straight to the cops.
Amy: Can’t we just wait 10 minutes?
Sticky: If you want to go to jail, you can.
Amy: So that’s it?
Sticky: Looks like it. The ex probably changed the code.
Amy: Why didn’t you tell me that?
Sticky: He’s your squeeze, not mine.
Amy: What the hell does that mean?
Sticky: I figured you thought he was too stupid to change the code.
Amy: Obviously he wasn’t. So what now?
Sticky: What now? Denny’s, I guess. We need to get the hell out of here.
Amy: I can’t just walk away.
Sticky: Then don’t, but I’m not going back to jail.
Amy: Okay. Let’s go.
Sticky: Good plan, babe. No use risking life and limb. Denny’s?
Amy: Sure.
They walk quickly and quietly to the car. They need to get in and out as quickly as possible.
Sticky: Man, I always get hungry after a job. My nerves are all tingly. Did you ever get that? Once it was so bad I could not even wind my watch. I miss them, really. The flipping over? I wore mine upside down, you know? That was my ‘thing.’ I started that. Did you know that? I did it by mistake one day, and then other people started doing it. I should have done -what they call it?- copy something. Is that right?
Good Lord. She’ll ditch this clown after breakfast and pay someone else to break in. It will cut into her profits, but it’s better than 100% of nothing.
Nothing is easy. Nothing.
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