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Vaulting off the Ladder


It was a normal morning in the bank.  The sun was shining through the plate glass windows, rays dancing across the floor in their race to the wall.  Percolating sounds could be heard drifting throughout the rooms as several coffee makers worked their magic that would awaken the people.  Paper rustled and metal clattered, the tellers were counting their tills, the manager opening the vault, loan advisers were turning on their computers and readying themselves for the day’s customers.

Dean Briscoe let out a small curse as his coffee burnt his tongue, ‘great’, he thought, ‘now I’ll have to deal with that all day.’  He just sat in his chair, watching the suns rays on the floor, waiting for the manager to unlock the doors, and then he could start another day in his dream job.  He was a bank teller, living the dream, being agonizingly close to all that money and not being able to truly touch it except to facilitate between the depositors and the bank.

His manager, Joshua Randolph, was such a good guy that Dean never once dreamed of differing ways to disembowel him while still breathing and then killing him.  His fellow tellers were all a bunch of slutty skanks that were always after Randolph’s package, as if they thought he could help them get ahead.  If someone had told Dean years ago that his degree in finance would lead to this craphole of a life, he would have become a laborer or shop worker or something.  He hated where he’d ended up, and often was lost in daydreams of a new life, which usually ended with Josh tapping him on the shoulder and telling him to snap to it, the customers were waiting.

The chimes coming out of that stupid musical clock on the wall forced Dean to get ready his daily smile that he plastered on his face for the customers.  Josh walked to the door, and turned to the workers, “Everyone ready for another beautiful day of life in the money system?”  Dean hated this little speech, Josh gave it every single day and Dean wanted to stand up and tell him where to go and throw the till at him, but he didn’t.  Things cost money, and Dean needed this job, at least for now, at least until something better popped up.

After everyone mumbled a response, Josh opened the door, and nodded and fake-smiled his way back to his glass wall office in the corner.  Dean let out a big sigh and started thinking about 5pm and the shows that were on TV tonight.  He tried to focus on the normal routine of his day, but his mind kept drifting, to the magazine he’d brought in for bathroom breaks, to the paper he’d brought in for lunch.

He handed a small stack of twenties over to the man in front of him when he heard shouts and then a gun being fired, automatic bullets slamming into the ceilings raining down plaster on all of their heads.  The women he worked with screamed and dove for the ground, Josh lunged under his desk, and Dean simply leaned on his counter and watched this interesting new scene play out in front of him.  He thought it was like being in a TV show of his own, and he was incredibly happy that his mundane existence had finally gotten an infusion of excitement.

To Dean, there appeared to be 4 of the men, wearing masks that resembled Twilight characters and one of them was shoving the sheaf of twenties that Dean had given out moments before into a bag.  He turned to dean, shoved the bag into his cubicle, and demanded that it start being filled.  Dean complied, and was putting handfuls of bills in as fast as he could, smiling the whole time when the man put the gun to Dean’s temple, “Why are you grinning business man?  What’s so funny?  Did you hit the alarm?”

Dean had to stop the snort from coming out, “No sir, I did not, I find it slightly funny that I was wishing for a change, and here you all are.”  He handed the bag back to the robber, and the man turned to his cohorts.

“How we doing over there? About done?”

“Hey man, slow it down, we gotta get this manager to open this vault back up.  He shut it just as we were getting to him.”

Dean rolled his eyes at Josh’s stupidity; he was going to be killed over money that wasn’t even his.  He raised his hand as a child will do in school, and cleared his throat, “Excuse me, sir?  I can open that for you, or at least tell you where he keeps the codes.  I can also tell you that the woman two stalls down from me has just hit the silent alarm and you have about 5 or 10 minutes to get away.  Let me come with you and I’ll expedite things for you.”

The man in charge jerked his head towards the main office, and Dean hurried over to get the codes.  He opened the vault and helped the men stuff their bags with as much as money ad they could fit and Dean showed the back exit.  They were leaving when dean called out, “Wait, am I going with you?”

“No way man, thanks for the help, but we can’t trust a bank worker.”

Lowering his head, he turned back into the bank and came face to face with Josh.

“You’re fired, Dean Briscoe, for aiding and abetting bank robbers.”

“No prob, Josh, I was just trying to save people’s lives anyway I knew how.  Maybe the bank will give me your job when it all comes out how we acted?”

Later that night, after his shows were over and he was watching the news, Dean reflected on how exciting the day was and it was exactly what he’d been waiting for.


From → Shorts

  1. A funny image that reminded me of this …

    • grizyeti permalink

      Wow, if my buddy never gets back to drawing for me I may have to steal that for this.

  2. That’s what I was doing… Instead of just random creepy pics, I thought I’d look into more specific google searches.
    This was my first search.
    I was being clever & looking for a guy pole vaulting into a bank vault.
    My computer blew up.

    • grizyeti permalink

      so terribly clever, you could have given Blaine a run for his money on the computer, eh?

  3. Oh, and nice shout-out to Bruce.
    I picked up more hidden ‘eggs’ on the 2nd & 3rd go!

    • grizyeti permalink

      Now I’m lost, should I read it again? It’s been quite some time since I wrote this one.
      Bruce? eggs?

  4. Easter eggs = hidden ‘things’.
    Usually in video games, Easter eggs are the hidden bonus features developers add, like a signature or a middle finger to their employer.
    You do that, I know cuz you told me so! Not here, but in other stories.
    So, knowing you slip things in sometimes, I thought the main character, Dean Briscoe, was a Bruce Campbell shout-out.

    Do you think I comment too much? Cuz you can delete them without me going bat-shit psycho on you.

  5. grizyeti permalink

    Hmmm, nobody has caught that yet, what made you get there? Should I strap a boom-stick on his back?

    You caught me, again.

    I try to see who’s sharp and who’s just skimming.
    Almost nobody catches them.

    You comment until the days have no more weather, ok? The interaction and feedback and to-n-fro with you are important.

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