>You hear about a local storage place having an auction to sell off their occupied spots that aren’t being frequented. News doesn’t really interest you, but your friend on the other hand... He’s been watching too much Storage Wars and given his slight pack rat/ hoarding tendency, it’s a golden opportunity to scratch his itch. > Scratching that gambling itch, scratching that hoarding itch. It probably won’t take long until your phone rang with your buddy asking you to tag along with him if possible. He knows that you’re not as interested as he is when it comes to gambling, though you have taken up on some gambling trips for some craps and blackjack. > Most likely, if you do tag along you’re gonna be acting as his restraint during the auction. > Sure enough, your phone rings not soon after. >“Yeah?” ”Anon, you hear about the auction that’s gonna happen?” >“Uh huh” you reply dryly as you go back to your work. ”Wanna tag along?” >“Eeech” ”Aw c’mon, it’ll be fun!” >“Yeah, for you maybe” You say as you lean back into your chair. >You think for brief moment, it’s been awhile since you hung out with anyone else, you’re not making that much of a progress on this project your boss dropped onto you, and you probably need a break... ”Hello?” >You break out of your momentary trance. >“Huh? Yeah?” ”Thinking about it still?” >“Still thinking about it” ”Tell you what, if you come with me, we’ll go to the auction, I’ll let you pick out one thing from the storage for yours to keep and we get some food” >Tempting… >“Why do you want me specifically, why not others?” ”Because they’re not as fun, are pretty crap at being my restraint and you bring good luck” >Figures. >“What time do you want to go?” ”How soon can you get here?” >“Give me a minute… I’ll meet you at the place” >You get prepared and throw on some t-shirt and shorts then drive to the auction. You can see that there’s a quite the crowd that gathered at the storage, all eager to try their luck in finding that “gold mine”. Your friend notices your car pulling up in the parking lot and wave at you. ”Just in time, the show’s about to start” >“Yeah, can’t wait..” you mumble. ”Ah, cheer up a little, I am letting you pick out something in return” >“I’d rather pick out something on the menus because I haven’t eaten anything since morning.” >Your friend simply grins and moves toward the crowd with you in tow. At the front of the small blob of people you see couple of people with loud speaker addressing the crowd. “Okay folks, we’re move along the spaces by rows and gonna have to ask you to keep the talking to a minimum to low voices so that we can hear each other’s bids. Last thing we want is the same person to bid extra once more because he or she couldn’t hear very well” >And with that the bidding began, your friend was raising the bid but continuously beaten out by a margin by someone else. Seeing that he’s beginning to get riled up by the stolen chances you decide to step in. >“Hey, cool it with the bids, you’re getting worked up. Why don’t I choose the next space to bid?” >He hesitates for a moment, the usual sign that you’ll be able to rein him in, and sighs and gives you the command of the ship. Once in control, you move with the crowd down the spaces for a while. ”So you gonna bid or you just doing this so you can do your restrain magic?” >“Eeh, both… gut feelings says it is not the right time” ”You doing the famous ‘Anon method’ of gambling?” >“You mean gut feelings? Yeah” ”I still don’t understand how you manage to win at tables like that” >“Does luck need explaining?” ”When you win back everything you lost at the craps table on match the dealer in blackjack? Yeah” >“Eh, I have powers” you grin at him. > By the time you arrive to the last few spaces left, the crowd dissipated mostly. They were far more interested in what their catch was than to go around and bid for more, which made your job of buying a storage that much easier. > Stopping at number 45, the staff opens the masterlock with a bolt cutter then punches in the code into the door. Kind of seems redundant to have two secure doors but that’s security. Redundancy. As usual, you are given five minutes to look around, no touching or opening the boxes or anything in there. > Boxes upon boxes stacked up like towers, possibly hiding something behind, but you can’t really be sure what’s behind unless you move them.. And that’d be breaking the rules. You do see a nice looking bicycle… and was that a safe? > You look around to the remaining group, they and your friend seem to be more preoccupied with trying to figure out what’s in the boxes rather than looking around, it would seem that they haven’t really noticed the safe tucked away in the corner of the space, hidden behind Fort Cardboard. > Your time came up and the announcer begins the bidding. The race starts with a group first chiming their bid. 50 75 125 150 200 225 275 > The bid stops at 275 for a while, understandable all they probably see are just stacks of cardboard boxes and maybe a nice, working condition bike. The caller begins to count down, some people exchange anxious glances at one another. “275! Any raise at 275?” “Going once!” “Going twice!” > Then you raise the bid. >”325!” > If there was a collective groan to be had, it would be now. Though no one actually groaned, you can hear some disappointed sighs coming from some folks. “325! Raise 325! Any more raises?” “Going once!” “Going twice!” >Caller pauses. “Sold! To the gentleman with 325!” > He seemed a bit happy and yet clearly he wanted something more from the storage that, technically, he bought. “This is the one?” >“Yep, that’s the one” “You sure about this?” >“Quite, and you said I get to choose one thing right?” “One thing” >You move the boxes out of the way and work your way towards the back of the storage and you slap the top of the safe. >“I want this one” You smile with satisfaction. ”How’d you even see that?” he asked incredulously >“It helps if you look a little harder” >You motion to the rest of the boxes stacked in the space. >“The rest is yours, you wanna open some of the boxes up?” ”Nah, I’m starving and this trip exhausted me. Didn’t know standing around all day could be tiring.” >With that, you finally notice your stomach’s protest and went to grab food together. A diner sounds nice right now… in fact anything and everything sounds really nice right now. >Couple of days past the auction, things were getting a bit busy. Your deadline was getting closer but fortunately you’ve been making good progress, you had to make some room in your home for a new safe to be dragged in, figured whatever’s inside that thing it’ll be easier to simply open it at home rather than trying to juggle between two places if the contents inside needed an extra packaging. >Finding people to do some safecracking wasn’t that hard either, all you had to do wait. Your friend too was also busy, seems that you did chose correctly and your gut feelings was right, the boxes contained some really nice stamp collections and China, it was easy to find buyers and make profit. The bike could use more work, you recall him saying, but he’d rather keep it after repairs. Everybody wins. > Days go by, the safecracking comes closer and closer and you become more and more anxious to see what’s behind it. Maybe there’s nothing really interesting in there, maybe there might be gold bars. Who knows? The possibilities of what could fit into that safe excites you. > The moment arrives, though without the drum and trumpet fanfare. The guys come and take a look at your safe, you watched them do their thing, gave them things to drink, of which they were grateful for, and waited with great exuberance which you barely managed to contain with a straight face. >An hour or so go by without much notice and finally they step away from your safe, declaring it open and giving you the honor of opening it yourself. With payment sorted out, and see them pull away from your driveway, you turn eagerly towards your pandora’s box. > Right there in your garage, sitting pretty in the smack dab middle, with the lamps almost casting a spotlight onto it. You’re drawn to it, then nervously you grab the handle, twist and slowly open. The door takes a bit of force, not surprising since you see rust on the hinges but its contents are revealed to you… > Boxes. > Not just any boxes. Ammo boxes. No scratch that, cans. > And next to the cans? Two M1928s secured tightly. The Typewriters. > Your heart beats faster, adrenaline now shaking your hands. You don’t even bother to take the guns out of the safe, lest you accidentally drop them or damage them from your excitement. You simply take a deep breath and slowly close the safe. > That’s not $325. No, that’s several 10s of thousands worth. You’re gonna need something stiff to calm your nerves. Maybe a shower, cold one, something to keep your mind away from the goldmine you’ve just opened up. Perhaps the living room need a good cleaning, or maybe the entire house needs cleaning. > You go and move about, keeping busy. Taking your mind off of the safe. You put on some random movie while at it to keep you distracted, what did Netflix choose this time… Blues Brothers, right. Cleaning takes time, by the time you’ve nearly finished Cab Calloway makes his appearance. You hum to the melody of Minnie the Moocher, cleaning up as you go. “I hope that song isn’t about me, darling” > “Nah, not really no” you say as you continue. “ True, my heart’s not exactly made of gold” > “Uh huh” you nod. >You then warn the voice, “Hey, no cigarettes in the house” >wait. What? > You turn to see a woman sitting on your dining table chair, she looked as if she came straight from the Roaring Twenties: blond, cream colored expensive looking evening dress, flowing over her, a shoulder drape looking to be made of feathers, a circlet over her head and complete with a cigarette holder. She seems to be content simply sitting on your chair, cross legged and enjoying her smoke. Her piercing blue eyes seem to just bore into you as you ask her a question. > “How’d you get in?” You ask. “Mmm, I’d rather you figure out for yourself” She states. “Cozy looking house, though the style is quite unfamiliar with me… it’s not Jean Michel Frank is it?” > “Sorry, who?” “You don’t know? Hrm… it’s definitely not Sister Parish” She titters. > You stand there for a moment, dumbstruck by history coming to life. When a tsk and soft sigh snaps you back. “ You going to stand there all day or going to the bottom of this mystery, Mr. Gumshoe?” she arches her brows, shifting ever slightly in the chair and gracefully crossing her leg the other direction. > Riiiight, gotta find out how she came in. If she wasn’t literal Holli Would/Jessica Rabbit incarnate, you’d be on your feet sooner. The obvious place first, the garage. You might’ve accidentally left the side door unlocked. Since you didn’t hear the garage door open and there’s no way she could’ve gotten the code right; this is the only possible way. > You make your way towards to the garage when you hear a loud crash and ear piercing police whistle echoing through the hallway, the door to the garage bursts open as you see an out of breath police woman, her uniform… seems to be out of time.. She notices you and quickly walks up to you. >Her hair is a bit messy, the police cap in her hands, the auburn hair that was once neatly bunned coming apart in some spots, she looks as though she had just run several miles. ‘Good evening, Have you seen a woman by any chance? Blond hair, in an evening dress…’ > “Uh.. yeah. Right there” you point to the dining room. >She wastes no time and grabs her whistle and puts back her cap, once more, you’re greeted with the piercing noise of the police whistle. >” Please don’t use that whistle indoors!” >Your plea mostly go unnoticed, Holli Would is her target now. Once in the garage, you hastily look around, everything is where it was, except for the safe. >It’s wide open. >The Thompsons are missing. >Shit. > “Don’t shoot up my goddamn house!” you yell as you turn towards the dining room with all haste. > Sprinting to the dining room, you’re greeted with a standoff between a policewoman and the blond woman. They scowl at each other, the blond leaning back into her chair, tilting it while biting hard on her cigarette holder and somehow managing to hold the Thompson without much effort in one hand while the policewoman does the same with both her hands at the ready on her Thompson. > The nightdress woman was first to relax, noticing your arrival to the scene, she lowers her gun and returns to her original position and taking a long drag in her cigarette and blowing it into the cop’s face. She then turns towards you, beaming. “ Hello bunny! Took you long enough” > The cop speaks afterwards. ‘Sir, I advise you to stay back, she’s a dangerous and a wanted woman’ her eyes never breaking contact with the other. “ Me? Wanted? Why officer, I’ve not done anything since my arrival to this gentleman’s house.” ‘Uh huh, I know your methods and you’re coming with me to the precinct one way or another!’ > Ms. Would simply hums and fold her arms, leaning back into the chair more >”If I may ask one question.” “Hmm?” >”What’re you doing with my gun?” “Oh, you haven’t figured yet?” >”Figured what?” “Officer, I think this gentleman needs help on his sleuthing skills” she sighs. > Then they both say to you. “We’re your guns” ‘We’re your guns’ ________________________________________________________________________ Just something i came up with on the sideline. Probably won't be going back to it.