Jack Bandol ran a local store. He knew all his customers, their names and their quirks. He enjoyed working behind the counter. He was aware of the dangers of robbery and took the usual precautions, including cameras and a height stick next to the door. Not that he expected that anyone would bother robbing him. He only had a little shop, not worth a crook's time.
So it came as rather a shock when he looked up and found that a woman wearing a balaclava and holding a gun was standing in front of him.
"The money from the till, quickly," she said.
"Ah, just what do you think you're playing at Rochelle?" he asked in some exasperation.
Did that idiot really think that a balaclava would stop him recognising her? He'd know her blind-folded. Especially blind-folded, as he'd have to touch her, but as soon as his hands felt that spectacular bosom of hers he'd know who it was.
Rochelle was one of the locals. A lovely young woman of about twenty, but not overly gifted with common sense. What the hell did she think she was playing at?
"I'm not Rochelle," came the quick reply. "She's someone else. I just happen to look like her. The money from the till, please."
And you sound just like her, Jack thought.
"OK, so you're not Rochelle. Um, if you're going to rob me can you please set the safety switch on so I know I'm being threatened by a gun that will fire?"
"What do you mean?"
"That little switch on the side of the gun. You have to turn it down or the gun won't work. It's designed to stop people shooting people by accident."
"Oh." There was a hasty adjustment as the safety switch was flicked.
"Or do you have to turn it up to make it fire?" wondered Jack. "You know, I'm not really sure."
"What?"
"I'm sorry," said Jack, "but that's rather an old gun. I can't be sure with that model. Here. Hold these while I check it out for you."
Jack held out a couple of bottles of milk he'd had on the counter, finding Rochelle laid the gun down and took hold of the milk. She really was a helpful girl at times. He picked up the gun.
"Ah, yes. Down renders the gun safe," he said. "It won't fire like this. Looking at it, I'd say it's so old it would be dangerous to fire it at any time. Where'd you find it?"
Turning he dropped the gun in the rubbish bin. He also relieved Rochelle of the milk, stepping over to the fridge to put them away.
"So, tell me, Rochelle. Why have you turned to armed robbery as a hobby? And please, take off that silly mask."
Rochelle was staring blankly at her empty hands. Gun. No gun. How was she supposed to rob him with no gun? She snatched off her balaclava angrily.
"Give me back my gun."
"No. That thing is dangerous. If you tried to shoot it you'd find that it would explode and tear your hand off. It stays in the rubbish. Who sold you that piece of crap?"
"No-one. I found it. I need it. I have no money and I'm hungry."
"Why do you have no money?"
"I lost my purse," came the sulky reply.
"This one?" asked Jack, producing a purse from under the counter. "You left it here this morning. I've been expecting you to come looking for it all day."
"Oh." Rochelle picked up the purse, opened it and saw her money, still safely tucked away. "Oh," she said again.
"I was about to close up for the day. Why don't you grab something from the warmer and nibble on it while I shut up the shop."
"Oh. Thank you," trilled Rochelle, delighted. She was hungry. She skipped over to the warmer, grabbing a couple of items and starting on them. She paused.
"If you're shutting up shop, don't you want me to leave first?"
"Not just yet," Jack told her. "I want to speak to you for a few moments."
"Oh, OK." Rochelle resumed eating her meal.
Jack locked up and dimmed the lights before heading through the store to his private quarters, gathering Rochelle along the way. She'd finished eating and looked a lot more content. She was also holding tight to her purse, not wanting to lose it again.
"Sit," said Jack, pointing at his couch after walking into his quarters.
Rochelle sat and looked at him expectantly, wondering what he wanted.
"Rochelle, you do know that robbery is a crime and you can be sent to prison for it? Armed robbery will get you an even longer sentence."
"Well, yes, but I didn't actually rob you. If anything, you robbed me," she said defensively. "You stole my gun."
"It's the intention that is the difference. And I didn't steal your gun. I merely confiscated it in the interests of public safety. The point is, if I called the police you'd be in a lot of trouble, although I will admit that where you're concerned they'd probably just spank you and send you home again."
"They can't do that. The police aren't allowed to spank people. Are they?"
"Normally, no, but in your case I'm sure they'd make an exception. However, they won't have to. I'm going to save them all that paper work and do it myself."
