There's Always Room for Jell-O

(Author's Note: I'm still working on this, but here's my most recent version of this story.)

Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe we should go back to the beginning, all good stories start there of course.

My name is Jeremiah. Jeremiah Bedlam to be specific. I’m twenty-nine, possess both a Bachelor’s and Master’s in English, and I am unemployed. Well, not unemployed, but I’m not doing anything with my degree. My parents are very proud.

I’ve tried any number of jobs: retail, construction, door to door sales, freelance journalism, and, most recently, restaurant work. None of these are a career, and because of that, I currently have $300 to my name.

I live in a one-bedroom loft apartment. I have a bed, a fold-out card table that doubles as my kitchen table, a bookshelf full of obscure authors, and a home theater system worth $5000. My rent is $750. My rent is due tomorrow.

My parents don’t approve of my lifestyle. My mother is a lawyer and my father a doctor. They wanted me to be a medical malpractice lawyer. Best of both worlds, right? I wanted to be an author.

The problem with being an author is that unless you’re published you’re a struggling author, and that means that you’re not really an author at all. It’s like being a musician that doesn’t play an instrument.

While my parents don’t approve of my life, my sister, Sabrina, does. Of course, that could be because my parents don’t approve of her life either. She’s a doctor, a neurosurgeon no less, she’s successful, she’s pretty, she’s intelligent, and she’s gay. That’s the kicker for my parents. I love it.

Our parents had always tried to raise us to be good, upstanding members of Christian society. Mom and Dad had been thrilled to find out that Sabrina was dating an intelligent, attractive person by the name of “Dani.” When Dani had turned into Danielle...shit hitting the fan didn’t begin to cover it.

Sabrina is older than me, she’s thirty-four, and while she followed the professional path my parents wanted, when she brought home Danielle, her partner and a great person, right before she graduated from medical school, my parents nearly had twin strokes.

Sabrina wasn’t exactly disowned, Mom and Dad had too many morals to completely cut off their only daughter, but I did jump from the least favorite child to the much more favored of my parents two offspring. I was directly followed by my cousin Andrew, a lawyer, and then Sabrina. Being the favorite child didn’t do much for me when I started coming up short for my rent. Mom and Dad don’t believe in helping their children. They also don’t believe in hugging, compliments, or charity.

But I’m getting off topic. Now, as I said, my rent is due tomorrow, or rather, it was due yesterday, but it was tomorrow from the date these events take place. I promise, it’s not as confusing as it sounds. Now, as I mentioned, I’m not using my degree, and the job that I do have is not going to get me the $400 I need by tomorrow(yesterday). Enter Jarod.

Jarod Kincaid. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember, and while he’s certainly gotten me into my fair share of trouble through the years, he’s also gotten me out of it too. That’s the mark of a good friend. Not listening to you tell what happened, sitting next to you laughing about the whole thing. Jarod was always with me laughing about it.

Knowing that Sabrina and Danielle wouldn’t be willing to help me pay my rent for a third month straight I dialed Jarod, hoping he’d get me out of trouble instead of into it. Sometimes you have to split the difference and call it a day.

Jarod picked up the phone, loud noises of the seemingly perpetual party that was going on at his house blaring in the background. I tried to explain to him that I needed some help, but he was either drunk or deaf, or some combination of the two, and could’t wrap his head around what I was saying. Slamming the phone down in annoyance I decided to head over there.

The drive across town took longer then it should have, the constant traffic of the small suburban town just outside the college causing a vein in my temple to throb and expletives that would have made a sailor blush three different shades of red to leave my mouth. I have road rage and I’m ok with that.

The line of cars that greeted me outside of Jarod’s house, coupled with thumping bass that resembled nothing so much as an irregular heartbeat, confirmed my fear of a drunk Jarod. Making my way up to the mid-sized house involved a quarter mile hike and jumping over numerous prone bodies in various stages of undress.

Opening the door to the house, I stepped in, expecting to have to fight my way through a sea of people. The music was still blaring, the bass thumping, but the only person in the living room was Ashleigh, dancing with a mop.

Ashleigh Vincent. His father had wanted a girl, and when his mother gave birth to a boy he decided to use the name anyways. Ashleigh had tried many variations on his name through the years: Ash, Leigh, Vincent, Sasha (his middle name), and even Mike (his father’s name), but he always ended up going back to Ashleigh.

“Jeremiah!” Ashleigh turned in his dance, a drunken, lopsided grin plastered on his dark, Italian face. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

Walking over I couldn’t help but laugh. Ashleigh was about to introduce me to his dancing partner…the mop.

“Jeremiah, this is Molly. She’s an excellent dancer.”

“She’s a mop and you’re drunk. Where’s Jarod?” Ashleigh frowned, not sure how to respond, then pointed towards the basement door. Not bothering to wonder how Ashleigh and “Molly” would be found tomorrow, I made my way through the door, down the stairs, and into the crowd that I had been expecting upstairs.

Fighting my way through a number of people, I almost gave up on finding Jarod when Jarod found me.

“Jeremiah, you made it!” Jarod appeared out of nowhere, giving me a drunken hug and pulling me towards a table sagging with the weight of too much booze.

“Jarod, I need your help. My rent’s due tomorrow and I don’t have the cash. Is there any chance you can spot me like $500?” I practically had to shout my predicament because of the noise the crowd was generating. Jarod turned quickly, putting on his best sober face.

“I don’t know that I can ‘give’ you $500, but I’m sure that I can help you earn it.”

“How?” Jarod didn’t respond, simply turned towards the crowd and moved towards a small opening in the mass of milling people. Standing where everybody could see him and motioning for the music to be turned off, Jarod raised his voice and spelled out my doom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! You having a good time tonight?” His question was met with roaring applause. “Good. Now, my friend Jeremiah here has a problem. His rent is due tomorrow and he doesn’t have it. Now, I could ‘give’ him the money he needs, but where’s the fun in that?” People started booing and shouting profanities. I had the sudden impression I was going to be lynched.

“Fortunately, I think we can help him. Jeremiah, come up here.” I reluctantly joined him in front of the crowd.

“This is my best friend, Jeremiah Bedlam. So, who wants to play Twister with him?” a few whistles and cat-calls came from the crowd. “Shall we start the bidding at $20?”

Maybe I should explain something here. Dating has never been an issue for me. I’m going to claim to be this amazing looking guy, but I do stand around six-two, weigh in at just under 200 pounds, and while Mom and Dad didn’t give me much in the way of affection while growing up, they did manage to bless me with high cheek bones, blue eyes, and blonde hair to make Hitler jealous.

Dollar amounts started being shouted, women and men bidding on the right to play Twister with me, and soon Jarod had raised enough money to help me pay my rent. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he wasn’t done yet.

“Is that all? What if I add Jell-O to the mix?” The dollar amounts rose exponentially. Soon we were in a bidding war between a stunning blonde and a brunette. The blonde was tall, thin, curvy in all the right places, the kind of girl that Victoria’s Secret makes their taunting lingerie for, essentially everything a man could want. The brunette had been on the wrestling team. The men’s wrestling team. He was taller then me, more heavily muscled then most football players, and was known for making people scream on the wrestling mat. I did not want to play Twister against him.

The price to play Twister with me kept going up, neither one of them willing to back down. While I was flattered that both wanted to play Twister against me in Jell-O, the thought of playing with a man known as the “Breaker of Souls”started to make my stomach quesie.

I quietly begged Jarod to declare the blonde the winner, offering him up my first born child, my immortal soul, whatever I didn’t need to pay my rent…anything so that I wouldn’t have to play with the wrestler. Either Jarod sensed my distress or God himself wanted me to play against the blonde, because soon he gave in, declaring the blonde the winner. The Jell-O was quickly produced, the Twister board and the Jell-O placed inside a small plastic pool. The blonde, I would later learn that her name was Sarah, and I both stepped into the game area, eyeing each other up and down.

“Right hand green!” Jarod shouted out the first color, both of us reaching down to place a hand on a green circle, finding our balance within the Jell-O. Bending at the waist and putting most of my weight on one spot amongst Jell-O was already proving to be tricky.

“Left foot yellow!” We both assumed a squat position.

“Right foot yellow!” A much easier squat position.

“Left hand red!” We both had to arch our backs to reach back and touch the red circles, still keeping our right hands on the green. I was already struggling to keep my balance, while Sarah’s lithe body seemed to easily assume the position.

“Right foot blue!” This took us back to more of a squat position. The crowd was beginning to get a bit anxious, wanting to see something more in the Jell-O. Never one to disappoint a crowd, Jarod decided to make the game more interesting.

“Right hand red!” This took us back to an arched position. I looked up and saw that Jarod was taking money from a handful of people, most of them girls, but the wrestler was back in the mix.

“Left foot green!” As Sarah and I moved to achieve the position necessary, we were quickly joined by five new players. This changed the game from kinda tricky with the Jell-O to nearly impossible. I could feel my body beginning to slip.

“Left hand yellow!” Two of the players slipped in the Jell-O, crashing to the mat. Cheers erupted from the crowd, people clapping as the two girls that had quickly fallen into the Jell-O stood and gingerly made their way back out of the pool.

“Right foot red!” The wrestler quickly found himself on the mat, his bulk and strength proving no match for the Jell-O. He grumbled as he stepped out of the pool, obviously not happy at losing so quickly.

“Left hand blue!” I reached for a blue circle with my left hand, but the stretch was too much and I soon found myself falling to the mat, along with Sarah and the two remaining girls that had joined the game. We rolled around, trying to regain our balance, but we only succeeded in falling all over each other.

I’m not really sure who won the game, only that I had the money I needed to pay my rent and a date with Sarah for the following week. It was the greatest game of Twister that I had ever played.

Emeralds

I see her across the way,
Emerald eyes meeting mine.
The hint of a smile crosses her lips
and I can’t help but laugh.
She giggles in the way of young women,
I chuckle like only a young man can.
I turn to leave, only to be assaulted
by the sound of her voice, lilting through the air.
“Can’t you stay for a drink?”
I can.
I do.

The Party

She asked what I had brought,

and I couldn’t help but blush.

I really meant to bring something,

I had it all planned out:

A handful of Balloons, to celebrate

your day.

Music to dance to, because I know

you like to groove.

A bottle of Vodka, that vanilla stuff

you like.

A Chocolate Cake and Ice-Cream,

your favorites, I know.

Ice to keep the drinks cold,

you hate warm soda.

A Bucket to keep the ice in,

your floor wouldn’t do.

Sodas to go in the bucket,

your sister isn’t 21.

Beer to join the soda,

your brother is.

Burgers to throw on the Grill,

you like them rare.

Hot Dogs to change it up,

you hate pork.

Buns to put the meat in,

you like your burgers without them.

Mustard and Ketchup to top them,

you wanted Relish, I said no.

Plates and Napkins to eat on,

you wanted red, I said blue.

Chips and Dip to munch on,

you wanted plain chips, right?

Tables and Chairs to eat at,

you frowned when I suggested the floor.

The Guests said they would bring Potato Salad,

you warned them not to bring Beans.

I’m sorry they didn’t show up.

I’m sorry I forgot to bring the stuff.

I’m sorry I ruined your Party.

I hope that you’ll forgive me.

I hope you’ll let me off the hook.

Movie Time (Revised)

Ok, so for my final English 398 portfolio I had to do some revisions to my stories from the semster. For this one, there were some massive revisions. Hope everybody out there enjoys it.

Movie Time

(not an excerpt from a longer piece)

I look around the cell, scrubbing a hand through my dark, shaggy hair. The other three men in the cell look back at me, smiling sheepishly. I can’t believe I let myself get in with these idiots.

“Alex, I’m really sorry…” Stephen starts to say, but I raise my hand, cutting him off.

“If you talk again, I’m more than a little confident I will reach over and choke the life out of your body Stephen,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from rising and screaming at him.

“Boomer, Alex. My name is Boomer.” Stephen’s very bad British accent grates on my last nerve, and I can’t stop myself from yelling at him.

“YOUR NAME IS STEPHEN! You are not Basher, or Left-Ear, or any of these characters that you’ve seen in the movies! You’re not Mos Def of Don Cheadle! You’re a white guy from NEW JERSEY!” My chest is heaving from this bout of shouting, not my first one, probably not my last one either. Stephen’s bottom lip starts to quiver, his dark eyes filling with tears. Good one Alex. You made a grown man cry.

“Hey! Calm down in there convicts!” The guard shouts from down the hall, not bothering to even come down and yell at us unless we start killing each other. We haven’t done that yet, but we haven’t been here that long either.

“Alex, it’s not all his fault you know,” Michael stands up, walking over to me, trying to calm me down. Of course it’s not my fault Michael, it’s that idiot brother of yours’ fault.

“Not his fault? It’s completely his fault! If you had stopped him from watching Ocean’s 11 and The Italian Job like I told you to, we wouldn’t be here right now!” I just manage to not shout at my old friend.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” Daniel has decided to join the conversation. I didn’t know he had the balls.

“No I don’t think that’s unfair. You were there, you remember what happened. It’s not like this was ten years ago. It was last night!” I sigh, dropping my head into my hands.

*

I sat in my apartment, watching the New York Giants lost to the Dallas Cowboys. The phone was ringing in the background, but I refused to answer it. The four messages on my answering machine didn’t make me want to pick up the phone.

“Alex, it’s Michael. I know you’re there and that you can hear this. I’m out in Beverly Hills and I’ve got some work for us. Give me a call. My number is…” I blanked out the number, having no desire to call my old friend back. I knew what kind of work Michael was referring to, and had been hoping to avoid resorting to that kind of “employment.”

Another hour of watching the Giants lose, and the phone rang again. Again I let the machine get it, but it wasn’t Michael this time.

“Mr. Grey, this is Susan down at 32^nd Financial Bank. We really need to talk about your account. Please give me a call at…” C’mon Alex, why are you doing this to yourself. You’re young, well, youngish, and Michael wouldn’t call you unless he really needed your help.

The phone rang again, and this time I answered, the stack of bills and the phone messages from the bank finally swaying my convictions.

“Alex, glad to finally catch you. I was thinking I might have some work right up your alley.” Michael was his usual jovial self, always smiling, always making everything into a joke. He had been born a con-man and would die one.

“Well I appreciate that. I’m sure you know I’ve been having a hard time finding work out here in New York. So…what did you have in mind?” I already knew, but this little song and dance was something we went through every time Michael called me with another “job” opportunity.

“It’s not something I feel real comfortable discussing over the phone. Why don’t you take a flight out here? We can see the sights, talk some business, maybe find ourselves a couple of pretty young ladies looking to have a good time. It’ll be like Vegas, only without the cross-dresser.” Waking up next to woman, dressed as a man, pretending to be a woman had been interesting to say the least. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

“I don’t think anything could end like Vegas. That sort of thing usually only happens in movies and in stories.” I was walking around my apartment, grabbing a few things to throw in a suitcase while we talked. I knew I was going, I certainly wasn’t doing anything else.

“I’m sending you a ticket. It’ll be there tomorrow, it’s a good seat, first class. Come on out, you can see the family, Stephen’s back in town, and we’ll have some laughs. No pressure. Promise.” I sighed, shaking my head at nobody in particular. Right, no pressure. No pressure from Michael is like gravity saying it won’t keep you on the ground.

“Alright, I’ll come out, but if this ends up with either one of us drag again, I’m never speaking to you again.”

*

I raise my head from my hands, glancing back across the cell.

“Daniel, take that dress off!” I shout, frowning at him, wondering why they even allowed him to keep wearing that thing when they arrested him.

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” he mumbles, looking to Michael and Stephen for some support. They both just shrug and laugh a little.

“Well you should have thought of that before you let yourself be talked into wearing it. That would have been a good idea, eh genius boy?” My head finds my hands again, unable to bring myself to look at Daniel anymore, though I can hear him sniffling. Two grown men crying…you are a cold bastard.

“Oh come on Alex, at least it was fun getting here,” Michael tries to put a good spin on what is happening. I raise my eyes, giving him the same look that has made Daniel and Stephen cry, hoping for the Hat Trick. It doesn’t work…Michael never cries.

“Ok, so maybe it wasn’t that fun, but you did get to see my mother again, and she did miss you.” I can’t help but sob a little into my hands.

*

The flight out to California was first class as promised, and I even managed to get a bit tipsy during the flight. Dealing with Michael and his job offers was always easier with a little bit of a buzz.

“Alex, so good o you to make it. I take it the flight was good?” Michael came out of nowhere and took my bags, Stephen on the other side of him, grinning that stupid grin of his.

“It was great, thanks for the seat. So, where are we headed?” I watched Michael look at Stephen and then back to me.

“Beverly Hills.” Michael quickly switched my bags from hand to the other as I went to grab my bags and get back on the plane.

“Are you crazy? Beverly Hills? People spend more on their cars then I spent on my first house, and then they spend even more on security to keep it all safe.” I made another grab for my bags, but Michael still managed to keep them away from me, still moving out towards the parking deck.

“You worry too much Alex. We’re not going to bother any of the fine citizens of Beverly Hills in their homes…” I breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing a bit. “We’re going to go and bother Harry-Winston Jewelers.” Michael quickened his step, taking him just ahead of myself and closer to the parking deck.

“WHAT?! Are you completely out of your mind? Harry-Winston? Do you know what will happen to us if we get caught?” Don’t yell in the airport Alex, yelling in airports gets you a cavity search.

“That’s why we won’t get caught. Feel better about it now?” Stephen laughed at Michael’s comment, he always was sucking up to his older brother.

“Geez, why didn’t you just say that in the beginning? I’d feel so much better about the fact that I’m going to prison. Look at me Michael…I’m too pretty for prison…I will not be some guys wife.”

“You’re always so pessimistic. Trust Michael, he’s never let you down yet has he?” Stephen took my bag from David, tossing it in the trunk.

“Stephen…” I turned to the younger man, rubbing my eyes with one hand.

“Actually, I go by Boomer now.”

“Boomer?”

“Boomer.”

“Michael, I told you he wasn’t allowed to watch Ocean’s 11 anymore. And stop with the stupid British accent Stephen, you’re from New Jersey. You need more Bon Jovi, and less Robbie Williams.” I brushed past Stephen and Michael to get in the car, claiming shotgun like it was my birth-right.

The drive out to Michael and Stephen’s house was well over two hours, and the silence did nothing to make the drive feel shorter. I was greeted at the door by their mother, Miss Andrews.

“If you don’t start calling me Mom I’m going to smack you.” Miss Andrews was the all-American mother. Just the right amount of grey hair, always smiling, always cooking, and she always smelled of fresh-baked cookies.

“Sorry Mom. It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.” I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She really was the best part of being friends with Michael and Stephen.

“I’ll say it’s been too long. Now sit down so I can feed you. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” The meal that was forced upon me was nothing short of epic in nature. Four courses and two notches on my belt, and I was stuffed to explode.

“You really are the best cook in the world Mom.” Stephen had dropped the fake accent around his mother, for which I was eternally grateful.

“So, what brings you to town?” Michael and Stephen both looked at me. Miss Andrews had no idea what their sons did for a “living,” and they would have preferred to keep it that way.

“Just out visiting. I hadn’t been out to this side of the country in a while, and since it’s colder than a well-diggers’ ass in New York this time of year, I thought I would finally take Michael and Stephen on their offer to come out and visit.” Michael and Stephen both nodded their thanks to me.

“Well, we’re glad to have you. How long will you be staying with us?”

“Actually, we’re going into Beverly Hills for a few days to see some old friends Mom. But we knew you want to see Alex too, so we made sure to bring him to you first.” Michael piped in around a bite of apple pie.

“Well, so long as I get to see you again before you leave.” Miss Andrews smiled at all three of us and began to clean the table, shooing me away when I offered to help.

*

“Have you called your mother yet?” I looked up at Michael, trying not to smirk at him.

“No, I didn’t want to bother her with this. You know she’s not as healthy as she lets on, and it would break her heart to find out we were in here. Besides…she’d just blame me for dragging you and Stephen into this. She always did like you two better.”

I can’t help but laugh at him. He scowls at first, but then breaks into a smile. Soon he’s laughing too, and so is Stephen. Daniel is still sitting there, wiping away tears with the corner of his dress.

“Oh cheer up Daniel. It could be worse. You’re mother could be here.” We all laugh at Michael’s comment…even Daniel.

*

The next morning I got into the car with Michael and Stephen again, and we headed into the city. The drive to their Beverly Hills hotel takes the better part of the day, and it’s still quiet while we drive, making it feel longer.

The hotel room was nice: two bedrooms, three beds, a pull-out sofa, small kitchenette. It was more than enough for the three of us, but then, when we stepped inside, we were no longer three.

“Daniel, it’s been a while. Your mother still dressing you?” I tried to hide the contempt from my voice. I hate momma’s boys.

“Mother tries to make sure that I’m presentable. You know I’d be a wreck if I was left to my own devices.” He tries to put some bass in his voice, but it just isn’t in him as he dry-washes his hands on the front of his pressed chinos.

“Right, you’re a wuss. Got it.” I turned back to Michael and Stephen. “I’m taking a nap, and when I wake up, we’re going to discuss exactly what you think we’re going to be doing.” Before they could answer, I had snatched my bags and gone into the bedroom with the single bed, closed the door, and flopped into the bed, falling asleep not five minutes later.

*

“Hey, convicts, your lawyer is here.” The guard bangs his stick against the bars, trying to act like Denzel Washington even though he looks like Don Knotts.

“Lawyer?” I look at Michael and Stephen, both of whom shrug back at me.

“Hello Daniel. I see you’re still hanging out with the same bad element.” That voice, the condescending one that every boy knows until he makes his mother know that he’s not six years old any more. Unless of course that boy is Daniel.

“Hello Mother.” Michael and I both groan.

“Daniel, how many times have I told you that hanging out with these hooligans was going to end with you in jail? You’re far too smart to be trying to steal diamonds for a living. You should be at MIT, finding a wife and starting a career.” Miss Sorty crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her foot in that special way that only a mother can manage. C’mon Daniel, stand up to her for once in your life.

“I know Mother, I’m too smart to be hanging out with these hooligans, but is there any chance that you could bail us out of here, and that we could discuss this at home?” Daniel walks towards the bars, sticking one arm through, trying to take her hand in his. Way to cave Daniel, let her know that she does own that spine of yours.

“Yes well, this time you’re on your own. I’m done trying to keep you out of trouble. I just wanted to come and let you know that. Good-bye son.” She turns and walks out, head held high, her steps quick, somehow conveying her unhappiness.

“We’re so screwed.” Daniel’s head bangs against the bars, his arm still stuck through.

*

The nap did nothing to make me feel better about a conversation that I knew would only give me grey hairs. A shower and shave found me sitting on the couch, Daniel, Michael, and Stephen standing in front of me like they were about to present a new product to a potential investor.

“The job itself will be easy. Daniel and myself will go in before hand as a couple looking to purchase some jewelry. Of course Daniel will have on a camera so that we can map the place out, pick our enter and exit points. Once we have that video, we pick the best date, get in, get out. It’ll be real easy, and we’ll be gone before they even we were there. We’ll be in Mexico by the time they realize what happened.” Michael smiled, so self-assured. He was so sure his plan was fool-proof.

“A couple? I know this is California, but I’m not sure anybody is going to believe you two as a gay couple. Neither one of you is in that kind of shape.” Or has a good enough fashion sense. I couldn’t help but smile, fairly certain I knew where this was going.

“Well, Daniel’s going to have to wear a dress. We couldn’t find one that would fit me. Besides, the dress we found will bring out those baby blues of his.” Michael nudged Daniel, chuckling.

“Thanks, really appreciate that.” Daniel managed a smile, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of wearing a dress.

“It’s so nice to be working with proper villains again.” Everybody looked to Stephen.

“No more Ocean’s 11for you, and that’s final.”

*

I lean back against the wall, laughing as I look over Daniel, sitting on the bench opposite me, his legs crossed at the ankle, trying to be proper, even while wearing a dress.

“You really do look terrible in that dress Daniel. Michael lied to you, it does nothing for your eyes.” I try not to laugh at the younger man, a bit of smeared lipstick making him look more like a clown than a man in drag.

“Yeah well, me in a dress isn’t the reason we’re in here, now is it Stephen?”

“Boomer guys, it’s Boomer.” Stephen managed to whine even with that stupid British accent he was using again.

“SHUT UP STEPHEN!” Well all yell at him, our nerves finally frayed beyond reason.

*

The recon went fine, though we had to stick Daniel in flats unless we wanted him to break an ankle. Three hours later, and a sprained ankle despite the flats, and we had the video that we needed.

“We’ve got to do this quick. The holiday season will be starting soon and the inventory will go down hill quick.” Michael spread out a map of the building as he talked.

“How quick is ‘quick?’” I softly asked, leaning on the table as I looked over the map.

“How’s three nights from now strike you?” I couldn’t help but whistle through my teeth.

“That’s soon. Maybe too soon. Do you think we can be ready?” I looked over at Michael.

“We’re going to have to be, because in three days, all those beautiful jewels are going to a lot of different peoples’ homes, and we already said we weren’t going to bother them at home.”

“Fair enough. Alright, let’s get to it then.”

“This will be great mates. Absolutely great.” Stephen was sipping tea and munching on a crumpet he had found.

“You’re an idiot Stephen.” I was really trying not to hit him. It wasn’t easy.

“It’ll be easy. Stephen, you, and I will go in through the roof. Daniel will stay outside and make sure that the cameras only show what we want them to. If the police find out we’re in there, he’ll let us know before they even get close, and we’ll get out of there. No worries.” Michael leaned back in his chair, hands going behind his head, green eyes dancing with amusement. So self-assured.

“Ok, so we’re in and out in ten minutes. Only grab what’s in the display cases, and we don’t even look at the vault. We hear one peep about police and we’re out of there and in another country. Deal?” Michael extended his hand towards me.

“Deal.” I shook his hand.

*

I nudge Michael, trying to hide a smile.

“I still hate you by the way, and you’re very much not getting a Christmas present from me this year.” Michael laughs, shoving me lightly.

“You don’t hate me. If not for me you’d still be in New York watching the Giants and Yankees suck. You should thank me for keeping your life interesting. Besides, you’d miss me if I didn’t call you once in a while.”

“Oh yeah, the same way I miss getting a prostate exam once a year.” I shoved him back, laughing.

*

The van was parked across the street from the store, Daniel wearing the dress again, his reason vague and oddly strange. Something about keeping up the illusion that he had been shopping here. It was jus weird to me.

We were all dressed in grey, black being too conspicuous, repelling harnesses already on, each with a rope and a bag full of equipment slung over our shoulders.

“Once we’re inside, it’s ten minutes to get what we can and then we get out. We don’t take anything we can’t lift from the sales floor, we don’t break any glass, and we don’t touch the vault. We’re all clear, right Stephen?” Michael looked right at his younger brother.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re clear.”

“Good. Now, once we’re on the roof Daniel will let us know when to go. We repel down, fill our bags, climb back out. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby. A very rich baby.”

Forty-five minutes later found us on the roof, Stephen more than a little out of breath.

“Alright, I’m going to open the skylight. Alex, you find a spot to secure our lines. And make sure it’s something sturdy, I want to repel, not sky-dive.” Michael turned, already pulling tools out of his pack to open up the skylight.

Another ten minutes and we had our opening, lines secured, and we were ready to drop into our own little diamond heaven.

“Alright Daniel, kill the security. I don’t want any pressure sensors, silent alarms, or cameras.” Michael motioned to Stephen and me, letting us know it was safe to repel down.

I made it down my rope without incident, touching down softly, no pressure sensors being tripped. Good job Daniel. Before me lay a sales floor with more diamonds than I had ever thought to see in my life. A grin found its way onto my face. Happy holidays Alex. You deserve this.

“There’s enough money here to support a small country for years.” Stephen’s eyes were as big as saucers.

Michael came up behind us, already taking to Daniel over walkie-talkie. “We’re in Daniel. Pull the truck around back. We’ll let you know when we’re coming out.” Michael motioned to us. It was time to go shopping.

We went in different directions, each using everything at our disposal to get the cases open without shattering the glass. In a twist of irony, I used a diamond-edged glass cutter to open a hold into a number of the cases, reaching in and helping myself to the diamonds within.

Ten minutes passes quickly when you’re having fun, and soon we were all lugging around very heavy sacks.

“Alright guys, I think we’ve got more than enough to support ourselves for quite some time. Let’s get back up those ropes and get out of here.” Michael cinched his bag shut, heading back to the ropes, smiling all the way.

“Hey, what’s in here? I’ll bet this is where they keep the good stuff.” Michael and I turned to look at Stephen, who was standing in front of the very large safe.

“That’s the safe. The safe we said we would not be touching. Now come on, let’s go.” I waved him over, more than ready to be out and on my way.

“Oh c’mon. I’ll bet I can get it open in two seconds.” Stephen reached around into his bag, quickly pulling out a block that looked like nothing so much as a small, square piece of grey molding clay. He pushed it onto the safe, sticking two cords coming out of his bag into it, then ran away, diving behind a desk.

“Michael, tell me that’s not what I think it…” I turned towards Michael, and was then pushed into him as the explosion took me off of my feet and launched me towards the other wall, with Michael along for the ride.

The ringing in my ears gave me an idea of how bad it was. The layer of debris on top of me confirmed my suspicions. I managed to climb out from under the layers of rubble that had been dropped on me. I’m going to kill Stephen. Kill him until he’s dead.

“Michael, you alive?”

“Yeah, I’m alive. Is Stephen? If not, I’m going to kill him.”

“Michael! Alex! What was that noise?” Daniel came across loud through my walkie-talkie, which had managed to survive the explosion.

“It was Stephen. Who let him have plastic explosives?” Michael snatched my walkie-talkie, his lying in pieces on the floor.

“Stephen! Are you alive?!” I started making my way towards the last place I had seen him.

“Michael, the cops are on their way. They’re going to be here any minute now. What do you want me to do?” Daniel was starting to hyper-ventilate.

“Get out of here, we’ll find out own way out. No point in all of us being caught.”

“Stephen! Where are you?! Michael, I can’t find your brother.”

“I’m here!” a voice from under a pair of tables drew us both. We quickly managed to dig him out, and then had to fight over which of us would strangle him first.

“Guys! I didn’t think it would be so bad. It’s never that bad in the movies.”

“You used plastic explosives on a jewelry store safe! That’s so far beyond overkill that I don’t know where to start!” I shoved Michael to the side, my hands reaching for Stephens throat.

Sirens surrounded us, and the cops were soon piling into the store, pulling Michael and me off of Stephen before we could kill him.

*

Stephen sits down on the cell bench next to me, and I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from strangling him again.

“I’m not sure how many times I can say I’m sorry, but I’m sorry.” He squeaks out another apology, flinching against the attack he knew I was fighting back.

“Don’t speak Stephen. Don’t even look at me.” I still have my hands clinched.

“Seriously guys, I’d really like to be called Boomer…”

My hands find their way around Stephen’s neck, taking him to the floor so that I can really apply the pressure.

“Don’t kill him Alex! Just rough him up a little!” Daniel and Michael egg me on, shouting names at him. This time, the guard doesn’t come to break us up. We probably won’t kill him. We haven’t yet.

Ever Hear the One...

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no way that she’d go home with you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well…look at you.”

“Fuck you too.”

Sean looked from behind the bar at David and Andrew. They’d been coming into his bar every Thursday like clockwork for the last three years. A couple of scotch on the rocks each, a few requests for some bar tricks or a joke, and then they were on their way. They were yuppies without a sense of humor, but they tipped well.

Their conversations usually ran from women, to politics, to work, to sports, and then back to women. Neither was married, and there was little question as to why.

“Hey Sean! Sean! Show us a trick. Something we haven’t seen yet.” Sean laughed, shaking his head.

“I think you’ve seen all of my tricks Andrew. Hell, I think David’s seen most of them twice.” The two laughed, nudging each other in the ribs.

“Ok then, tell us a joke.”

“Do you want a clean one or a dirty one?” The two men looked at each other, sharing the silent communication that friends develop over the years.

“Dirty.”

Sean sighed again, dry washing his hands on a towel stuck in his back pocket.

“Alright. A priest, a rabbi, and a horse walk into a bar. The bartender looks up and says: ‘What is this, a joke?’”

David and Andrew looked at each other, then Sean.

“That wasn’t dirty Sean.”

“I know, just getting warmed up. Ok, now for the dirty one.”

“Three dogs are sitting in the pound. The first dog turns to the second one and asks him what he’s in for. The dog replies that his master had left him locked inside the house all day, during which time he had pissed, shit, chewed on furniture, and generally destroyed the house. Now he was in the pound, waiting to get the needle. Giving the second dog his condolences, the first dog move onto the third dog.”

Sean paused to pour David and Andrew a couple more drinks. They always thought his jokes were funnier if they’d had more to drink.

“So, the first dog asks the third dog what he’s in for. The third dog replies that his master had left him locked up in the backyard all day, during which time he had pissed, shit, dug up the yard, and generally destroyed the backyard. Now he was sitting here in the pound, awaiting the needle. Again, the first dog gave his condolences.

“Now, the second and third dog turned to the first dog, asking him what he was in for. The first dog told them that his master, a woman, walked around the house all day, buck naked. Well, one day, she bent over to pick up some trash, and being a horny dog, he fucked the shit out of her. Then here he was, in the pound.

“The second and third dog were amazed, almost in awe. ‘You’re getting the needle for that? Wow,’ the second dog said.

“’The needle?’ the first dog replied, ‘I’m just here to get my nails clipped.’”

Sean waited, looking at David and Andrew, preparing for the laughter.

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re an idiot.”

“Shut up Andrew. You don’t get it either.”

Sean’s jaw hit the floor, shocked as David and Andrew paid their tab and walked out the door, still arguing over the point of the joke.

Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head

The familiar pop of a cork coming free of the bottle and Alan smiled. Forty-five years and I still get as giddy as a school girl when I open a bottle of wine. You’d think I was still nineteen and stealing bottles out of my mom’s liquor cabinet, not on my second liver.

The merlot flowed into the glass as the rain began to fall, a few small drops escaping over the brim of the glass to fall on the counter in a Rorschach like design. It looks like my mothers head on a stick. Alan chuckled at that mental image, taking his glass of wine and heading for the living room, leaving the spill on the counter.

“That had better not have been a bottle opening I heard!” Sarah’s voice broke the silence that Alan had been enjoying, and he winced ever so slightly.

“No dear, you must be hearing things again!” he replied, taking a sip of the red wine with a slight chuckle. Settling back into the recliner he did his best to relax, trying to let the last few days wash over him. The pitter-patter of rain on the windows was soon joined by the rumbling of thunder in the distance. I wonder what’s for dinner?

“Have you heard anything about that job from Steve?” Again Sarah’s voice shot into the silence. Lightning crashed outside, lighting up the room for a fraction of a second.

“No Sarah, he said he wouldn’t know anything until Tuesday.”

“You should call him anyways.” Thunder rolled again, this time louder, closer than before. Another sip of the merlot, trying to calm himself before he went upstairs and got into another shouting match with her.

“He said he’d call on Tuesday and that’s when he’ll call. I don’t want to bother him at home. It’s late!” The room lit up again, the lightning followed quickly by the thunder. The storm was on top of them now.

Alan drained the glass as he stood, making his way back to the counter and the bottle of wine with the splash next to it. He cocked his head to the side, taking another look at the splash pattern. It still looked like a head on a stick, but maybe it wasn’t his mother’s.

“Alan!” He quickly ignored the rest, the sound of wine filling a glass the only sound he was concerned with. No splashes this time. Not bothering to make his way back to the living room Alan simply stood at the counter and drained the glass. Again Sarah shouted his name, and again he ignored her for the pouring of wine. Another glass drained.

“Alan! Please come up here! I need your help!” What about what I need woman? Like some damned peace and quiet.

The stairs seemed to shift a little bit as Alan started to climb them. He thought they were trying to trip him up, stop him from doing what he really, truly wanted to do…but that might have just been the wine.

“Alan! Are you coming Alan?!”

I’m coming woman. But it’s not you I’m going to help.

The door was already open, Sarah standing at the window, trying to pull it closed. That window always got stuck, no matter how many times he told her not to open it.

“I can’t get this window closed and it’s raining outside like the second coming of the Great Flood.” Alan took the few steps across the room towards Sarah and the window, trying not to let her see him sway, not wanting to hear the lecture about his drinking, his liver, and what the doctor had said.

He reached for the window, wanting to just close the window and go back downstairs to his bottle of wine. Sarah was talking again, but he wasn’t listening anymore. The thunder was right over the house, a small puddle forming on the floor by the window from the pounding rain. Alan started to reach for the window, then paused. He turned, hands still raised, and lunged for his wife.

Lightning lit the room as a thousand light bulbs, Sarah’s hands beating against his large barrel chest and arms as his fingers closed around her throat. Thunder crashed outside in time to her beating heals on the floor. Time seemed to slow down, but then it was over, and Sarah’s body soon lay on the floor.

Turning from the window and the body Alan headed back towards the stairs, the storm outside passing, a cool breeze coming in through the window. I wonder how much wine I left in that bottle.

BlackJack

Alex shuffled the deck of cards in his hands, first tossing them from one hand to the next, then splitting the deck and folding them into each other with that oh so familiar slapping sound. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his Zippo lighter. It was a filthy habit and he knew it, but somehow, Alex just couldn’t make it through the day without at least one cigarette. Snapping open the lighter and flicking it ablaze in one smooth motion, he lit the cigarette, snapping the lighter closed and shoving it back in his pocket, enjoying that first drag of nicotine goodness.

A few more rounds of shuffling and the cards were how he liked them, not that what he liked had mattered for much as of late, but that didn’t matter now, it was just him and the cards. A simple flick of his wrist sent the first two cards to the table in front of himself, landing face up and spreading out; the queen of diamonds and the king of hearts.

Don’t you draw the queen of diamonds boy; she’ll beat you if she’s able. You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet. Don Henley had warned men everywhere about the queen of diamonds, but this desperado hadn’t listened to that advice. Well, that was a year and a half of his life that he was never going to get back. Damned woman.

More cards started to join the first two on the table; the deuce of diamonds and the ace of diamonds, followed by the four of spades. Seventeen…not a bad hand. The five of hearts and the ace of hearts followed quickly, and were quickly joined by the six of diamonds. Bust. Can’t win ‘em all. The king and jack of clubs. Twenty.

The next two cards to hit the table made Alex smile. The king of diamonds and the queen of hearts. Don said the queen of hearts was the best bet, too bad he wasn’t the king of diamonds. His brother sure had money. Hell, Michael had more money than he knew what to do with. And he certainly had the queen of hearts. Sheila was a great woman, nothing like Leslie. She didn’t nag, didn’t complain, and certainly didn’t sleep around with every guy that she came into contact with while professing her undying love for you. No, Sheila was nothing like Leslie. Damned woman.

The ten of hearts and the nine of clubs hit the table next, followed by the four of diamonds, the ten of diamonds, and the seven of spades. Two good hands in a row. Not bad at all. Unfortunately, those two hands were followed by three bust hands so quickly that Alex knew the luck had been fleeting, and only there as a teasing reminder that he was only lucky when he was by himself.

A bit of ash falling onto the table and cards drew him back to the here and now. Looking at the cigarette in his mouth it realized that it was half gone, and all the ash was on the table and his lap, which is not where it belonged. Cursing himself for letting his mind wander, Alex stood up, brushing off his pants, looking around for the ashtray that he hadn’t brought with him. Cursing again he tossed down two more cards, the jack and ace of spades. Black jack. With a laugh he turned and left, in search of that blasted ashtray.

Movie Time

Alex looked around the cell, scrubbing a hand through his dark, shaggy hair, the other three men looking back at him smiling sheepishly. I can’t believe I let myself get in with these idiots.

“Alex, I’m really sorry…” Stephen started to say, but Alex raised his hand, cutting him off.

“If you talk again, I’m more than a little confident that I will reach across the cell and choke the life out of your body Stephen,” Alex replied, trying to keep his voice from rising and screaming at him.

“Boomer, Alex. My name is Boomer.” Stephen’s very bad British accent grated on Alex’s nerves.

“YOUR NAME IS STEPHEN! You are not Basher, or Left-Ear, or any of these other characters that you’ve seen in the movies! You’re not Mos Def or Don Cheadle! You’re a white guy from NEW JERSEY!” Alex’s chest was heaving from this bout of shouting, not his first one, probably not the last bout either.

“Hey! Calm down in there convicts!” The guard shouted from down the hall, not bothering to even come down and yell at them unless he heard them killing each other.

“Alex, it’s not all his fault you know,” David stood up, walking over to his friend, trying to calm him down.

“Not his fault? It’s completely his fault! If you had stopped him from watching Ocean’s 11 and The Italian Job like I told you to, we wouldn’t be here right now,” Alex just managed not to shout at his old friend.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unfair Alex?” Daniel had decided to join the conversation.

“No, Daniel, I don’t think that’s unfair. You were there, you remember what happened. Not like this was ten years ago. It was last night!” Alex sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

*

Alex sat in his apartment, watching the New York Football Giants lose to the Dallas Cowboys. The phone was ringing in the background, but he refused to answer it. The four messages on his answering machine didn’t make him want to pick up the phone.

“Alex, it’s David. I know you’re there and that you can here this. I’m out in Beverly Hills and I’ve got some work for us. Give me a call as soon as you here this. My number is …” Alex blanked out the number, having no desire to call his old friend back. He knew what kind of work David was referring to and had been hoping to avoid resorting to that kind of “employment.”

Another hour of watching the Giants lose, and the phone rang again, this time Alex decided to answer it, the stack of bills next to the phone finally managing to sway his convictions.

“Alex, glad to finally catch you. I was thinking I might have some work right up your alley.” David was his usual jovial self, always smiling, always making everything into a joke.

“Well I appreciate that David. I’m sure you know that I’ve been having a hard time finding work out here in New York. What kind of work did you have in mind?” He already knew, but this little song and dance was something they went through every time David called him with another “job” opportunity.

“It’s not something I feel really comfortable talking about over the phone Alex. Why don’t you take a flight out here and we can see the sights, talk some business, maybe find ourselves a couple of pretty young ladies looking to have a good time. It’ll be like Vegas, only without the cross-dresser.”

“I don’t know David, I have a feeling that this will end up exactly like Vegas.” Alex walked around his apartment, phone in hand, already grabbing a few things to throw in a suitcase while they talked. He always said no at first, and he always said yes in the end.

“I’m sending you out some tickets Alex. They’ll be there tomorrow. Good seats, first class. Come on out, you can see the family, Stephen’s back in town, and we can have some laughs. No pressure. Promise.” Alex sighed, shaking his head at nobody in particular, then nodded it, also at nobody in particular.

“Alright David. I’ll come out. But if this ends up with either one of us in drag again, I’m never speaking to you again.”

*

“Daniel, take that dress off!” Alex shouted, raising his head for a moment, before dropping it back down into his hands.

“Umm, I don’t have anything else to wear Alex,” Daniel mumbled, looking to David and Stephen for some support. They both just shrugged and laughed a little.

“Well you should have thought of that before you let yourself be talked into wearing it. That would have been a good idea, eh genius boy?” Alex didn’t even bother to raise his head for this round of berating, knowing it would just make Daniel cry if he had to look him in the eye.

“C’mon Alex, at least it was fun getting here,” David tried to put a good spin on what was happening here. Alex did raise his head to look him in the eye, hoping to make him cry. Not that David ever cried.

“Ok, so maybe it wasn’t all that fun, but you did get to see my mother again, and she did miss you.” Alex’s head found his hands again. He thought about crying.

*

The flight out to California was first class all the way, and Alex was a bit tipsy when he got off the plane. Dealing with David and his job offers was always easier with a little bit of a buzz.

“Alex, so good of you to make it. I take it the flight was good?” David came out of nowhere from the crowd and took Alex’s bags, Stephen on the other side of him, grinning that stupid grin of his.

“It was great, thanks for the seats. So where are we headed?” Alex watched David look at Stephen and then back to himself.

“Beverly Hills.” David quickly switched Alex’s bag from one hand to the other as his friend went to snatch it back.

“Are you crazy? Beverly Hills? People spend more on their cars then I spent on my house, and then they spend even more on the security to keep it all safe.” Alex made another grab for his bag, but David still managed to keep it away from him, still moving out towards the parking deck.

“You worry too much Alex. We’re not going to bother any of the nice citizens of Beverly Hills at their homes…” Alex breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing a little bit. “We’re going to go and bother Harry Winston Jewelers.” David quickened his step, taking him just ahead of Alex and closer to the parking deck.

“WHAT!? David, are you completely out of your mind? Harry Winston? Do you know what will happen to us if we get caught?” Alex was trying not to scream. Screaming in airports got you cavity searches, but it was getting real hard.

“That’s why we won’t let ourselves get caught. Feel better about it now?” Stephen laughed at David’s comment, moving to unlock the car and open the trunk for Alex’s bag.

“Geez, why didn’t you just say that in the beginning? I’d feel so much better about the fact that we’re going to prison.” Sarcasm had always been Alex’s friend, and they were quickly becoming reacquainted around David and Stephen.

“You’re always so pessimistic Alex. Trust David, he’s never let you down yet has he?” Stephen took Alex’s bag from David, tossing it in the trunk.

“Stephen…” Alex turned to the younger man, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Actually, I go by Boomer now.”

“Boomer?”

“Boomer.”

“David, I told you he wasn’t allowed to watch Ocean’s 11 anymore. And stop with the stupid British accent Stephen, you’re from New Jersey.” Alex brushed past Stephen and David to get in the car, claiming shotgun like it was his birth-right.

The drive to their hotel in Beverly Hills was quiet and awkward, reminding Alex of his junior prom. The hotel room was nice: two bedrooms, three beds, a pull-out sofa, small kitchenette. It was more than enough for the three of them, but then, when they stepped inside, they were no longer three.

“Daniel, it’s been a while. Your mother still dressing you?” Alex tried to hide the contempt from his voice. He hated Momma’s Boys.

“Mother tries to make sure I’m presentable. You know I’d be a wreck if I was left to my own devices,” Daniel tried to put some bass in his voice, but it just wasn’t in him as he dry washed his hands on the front of his pressed chinos.

“Right, you’re a wuss. Got it.” Alex turned back to David and Stephen. “I’m taking a nap, and when I wake up, we’re going to discuss exactly what you think we’re going to be doing.” Before they could even answer, Alex had snatched up his bag and gone into the bedroom with the single bed, closed the door, and flopped into the bed, asleep not even five minutes later.

*

“Hey, convicts, your lawyer is here.” The guard banged his stick against the bars, trying to act like Denzel Washington even when he looked like Don Knotts.

“Lawyer?” Alex looked at David and Stephen, both of whom shrugged back at him.

“Hello Daniel. I see you’re still hanging out with the same bad element.” That voice, the condescending one that every boy knows until he makes his mother know that he’s not six years old again. Unless of course that boy was Daniel.

“Hello Mother.” Alex and David both groaned, David joining Alex on the small bench, dropping his head into his hands as well.

“Daniel, how many times have I told you that hanging out with these hooligans was going to end with you in jail? You’re far too smart to be trying to steal diamonds for a living.” Daniel’s mother crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot in that special way that only a mother can manage.

“I know Mother, I’m too smart to be hanging out with these hooligans, but is there any chance that you could bail us out of here, and that we could discuss this at home?” Daniel walked towards the bars, sticking one arm through, trying to take her hand in his.

“Yes well, this time you’re on your own Daniel. I’m done trying to keep you out of trouble. I just wanted to come and let you know that. Good-bye son.” She turned and walked out, head held high, her steps quick and somehow conveying her unhappiness.

“We’re so screwed.” Daniel’s head banged against the bars, his arm still stuck through.

*

The nap did nothing to make Alex feel better about the conversation that he knew was only going to give him a few more grey hairs. A shower and shave found him sitting on the couch, Daniel, David, and Stephen standing in front of him like they were about to present a new product to potential investors.

“The job itself will be easy. Daniel and myself will go in before hand as a couple looking to purchase some jewelry. Of course Daniel will have on a camera so that we can map the place out, and once we have that video, we can plan the best way to get in. It’ll be real easy, in and out so quick they’ll never even know we were there until we’re half way to Mexico.” David smiled, so self-assured. He knew this plan was fool-proof.

“A couple? I know this is California, but I’m not sure anybody is going to buy you two as a gay couple,” Alex smiled, pretty sure he knew where this was about to go.

“Well, Daniel’s going to have to wear a dress. We couldn’t find one that would fit me. Besides, the one we did find will bring out those baby blues of his.” David nudged Daniel, chuckling.

“Thanks David, really appreciate that.” Daniel managed a smile, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of wearing a dress.

“It’s so nice to be working with proper villains again.” Everybody looked to Stephen.

“No more Ocean’s 11 for you, and that’s final.”

*

“You really do look terrible in that dress Daniel. David lied to you, it does nothing for your eyes.” Alex tried not to laugh at the younger man, a bit of smeared lipstick making him look more like a clown than a man in drag.

“Yeah well, me in a dress isn’t the reason we’re in here, now is it Stephen?”

“Boomer guys, it’s Boomer.” Again he managed to whine with a very bad British accent.

“SHUT UP STEPHEN!” Alex, Daniel, and David all yelled at the same time.

*

The recon went fine, though they had to stick Daniel in flats unless they wanted him to break an ankle. Three hours later and a sprained ankle despite the flats and they had the video they needed.

“We’ve got to do this quick. Like tonight quick.” David was looking over the video with Daniel, shaking his head a bit.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit soon? We’ve got to plan more, make sure we have all the angles covered. We don’t do this right and we’re going to prison. I don’t like prison, and you might not be, but I’m much too pretty to be some large man’s bitch.” Alex stood up and moved over to Daniel and David.

“You worry too much, you know that mate?” Stephen was sipping some tea, a crumpet he found somewhere on a small plate.

“SHUT UP STEPHEN!” Alex yelled at him almost without thinking.

“It’ll be easy Alex. Stephen, you, and I will go in through the roof, while Daniel is outside making sure that all the cameras show only what we want them to. If the police find out we’re in there, he’ll let us know before they even get close, and we’ll get out of there. No worries.” David leaned back in his chair, hands going behind his head, green eyes dancing with amusement. So self-assured.

“I’m not going to convince you that this is a bad idea, am I?” Alex shook his head, already knowing the answer.

“Nope, it’s not a bad idea and we’re going to make so much money when we pull this off. It’s Harry Winston Alex. They’ve got more diamonds than anybody in Beverly Hills.”

Alex shook his head again, chuckling because he knew he was about to agree to this no matter how stupid it sounded.

“One peep from the cops and we’re out and in another county. That’s the only way I agree to this.”

“Done. That was easier than I thought it would be. You’re getting soft Alex.” David laughed as he stood up and gave Alex a pat on the back.

“I hate you so much. You know that right?” Alex couldn’t help but laugh himself. He was pretty sure they were going to end up in prison, but at least it was going to be fun getting there.

*

“I still hate you by the way. And you’re very much not getting a Christmas present from me this year.” Alex managed to raise his head from his hands just long enough to shoot David an annoyed look.

“You don’t hate me. If not for me you’d still be in New York watching the Giants and Yankees suck. You should thank me for keeping your life interesting. Besides, you’d miss me if I didn’t call you once in a while.”

“Oh yeah, the same way I miss getting a prostate exam once a year.” Alex’s head found his hands again. They were becoming close friends.

*

The van was parked across the street from the store, Daniel still in his dress for some reason that he couldn’t quite give to the others. Grey being the new black, Alex, David, and Stephen were all dressed in varying shades of grey, repelling harnesses already on, each with rope and a bag full of equipment slung over their shoulders.

“Once we’re inside, we have thirty minutes to get what we can and get out. We don’t take anything that we can’t lift from the sales floor, and we don’t break any glass. Understand Stephen?” David looked right at the younger man, who looked away sheepishly.

“I understand David.”

“Good. Now, once we’re on the roof, Daniel will let us know when to go. We repel down, fill our bags, and climb back out. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby.”

Forty-five minutes later found Alex, David, and Stephen on the roof, Stephen more than a little out of breath.

“Alright, I’m going to open up the skylight, Alex, you find a spot to secure our lines to. And make sure it’s something sturdy, I want to repel, not sky-dive.” David turned, already pulling tools out of his pack to open up the skylight.

Another ten minutes and they had their opening, lines secured, and ready to drop into their own little diamond heaven.

“Alright Daniel, kill the security. I don’t want any pressure sensors, silent alarms, or cameras.” David motioned to Alex and Daniel, letting them know it was safe to repel down.

The three men made it down the ropes without incident, touching down softly, no pressure sensors being tripped. Daniel had managed to do his job rather well. Before them lay a sales floor with so much ice you would think you’d need ice skates just to cross it. Alex couldn’t help but whistle through his teeth.

“There’s enough money here to support a small country for years.” Stephen’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“We’re in Daniel, pull the truck around back. Let us know when it’s time to leave.” David looked to the other two, smiled, and nodded. It was time to go shopping.

The three men went in different directions, each using whatever tricks he knew to get the cases open without breaking the glass. It wasn’t long before they each had very heavy sacks pulling at their backs.

“Alright guys, I think we’ve got more than enough to support ourselves for quite some time. Let’s get back up those ropes and get out of here.” David cinched his bag shut, heading back to the ropes, smiling all the way.

“Hey, what’s in here? I’ll bet this is where they keep the good stuff.” David and Alex turned to look at Stephen, who was standing in front of a very large safe.

“That’s the safe Stephen. The safe that we said we would not be touching.” David waved him over, more than ready to be out and on their way.

“Oh c’mon. I’ll bet I can get it open in two seconds.” Stephen reached around into his bag, quickly pulling out a block that looked like nothing so much as a small, square piece of grey molding clay. He pushed it onto the safe, sticking two cords coming out of his bag into it, then running away and diving behind a desk.

“David, tell me that’s not what I think it…” Alex turned to his friend, and was then pushed into him as the explosion took him off his feet and launched him towards the other wall, with David along for the ride.

The ringing in his ears gave him an idea of how bad it was. The layer of debris on top of him confirmed his suspicions. Alex managed to climb out from under the layers of rubble that had been dropped on him.

“David, you alive?”

“Yeah, I’m alive. Is Stephen? If not, I’m going to kill him.”

“David! Alex! What was that noise?” Daniel came across loud through their ear pieces, somehow having managed not to be destroyed.

“It was Stephen. Who let him have plastic explosives?” David answered, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

“Stephen! Are you alive?!” Alex started making his way towards the last place he remembered seeing Stephen.

“David, the cops are on their way. They’re going to be here any minute now. What do you want me to do?” Daniel was starting to hyper-ventilate.

“Get out of here, we’ll find our own way out. No point in all of us being caught.”

“Stephen! Where are you?! David, I can’t find Stephen.”

“I’m here!” a voice from under a pair of tables drew both men. They quickly managed to dig him out, and then had to fight over who would strangle him first.

“Guys! I didn’t think it would be so bad. It’s never that bad in the movies.”

“You used plastic explosives on a jewel store safe! That’s so far beyond overkill that I don’t know where to start!” Alex shoved David to the side, his hands reaching for Stephens throat.

Sirens surrounded them, and the cops were soon piling into the store, pulling Alex and David off of Stephen before they could kill him. Daniel had been stopped just down the road, and all of them had been thrown in a cell together.

*

“I’m not sure how many times I can say I’m sorry, but I’m sorry.” Stephen squeaked out another apology, flinching against a possible attack.

“Don’t speak Stephen. Don’t even look at me.” Alex still hadn’t managed to lift his head from his hands. They were getting along well, no need to break them up.

“Seriously guys, I’d really like to be called Boomer…”

The guard down the hall didn’t even bother to go down to the cell this time. It was at least the third time that one of them had attacked the weird kid with the bad British accent in the last 24 hours, and since they hadn’t managed to kill him yet, he wasn’t too worried that they would now.