Chester’s Recipe for Quick Cash

Ingredients:

Five Star National Bank

1 bank robber

5 witnesses

1 flashback

1 twist

1 coffee shop (with very strict bathroom rules)

2 police officers

Instructions:

Preheat to Sunday at 10:37 PM

Okay, this is it. For all the marbles. I get this… well, my plans can change. I won’t need to do… it. But if I lose? Yeah… I’ll need to do it then.

He clicks. Holds his breath. Closes his eyes just for a millisecond. Says a prayer to any deity that will listen. And he waits. 

It’s only a second, and the results come in. And the results are disastrous.

Well… I guess it’s on then.

Good thing I already have the gun.

Set to Tuesday at 11:19 AM

Step One: Add one bank robber. Don’t use all of it, only about half. We’ll need more for later.

He asked if we can keep him anonymous, and not give his real name. Sure, why not? We’ll honor that request, even if the man is a criminal. For the rest of this story, we’ll call our bank robber “Chester”. 

We’ll skip the lengthy details of the backstory, and why this used car salesman we’re calling Chester is currently robbing a bank. Chester sure would love to tell you he’s paying for his dear grandmother’s medical expenses… but no, it’s just massive and crippling gambling debt. The man has a bit of a problem, you see. Honestly, even if Chester manages to get away with this heist and pay off his debts, he’ll probably just dig himself into another hole within weeks. 

Chester’s not a bad guy. He just really loves online poker. And, unfortunately for Chester, he’s also remarkably terrible at it.

A few weeks ago he went to a shooting range with his brother-in-law. Chester had never fired a gun before then. He didn’t really care for it. But Chester lied of course, and told his BIL he loved it, asking to check out his gun safe. Far too trusting, his dear BIL didn’t even try to conceal his passcode, and sure enough Chester took notice. The next time he visited, Chester “had to use the bathroom”, but instead went into the den, unlocked the safe, and pocketed a pistol. 

He didn’t even take any bullets. Chester’s no killer, after all. Just a bad (and desperate) gambler.

Fast forward to this morning. Chester, donning an orange Patagonia ski mask with the eyes cut out and an empty pistol in hand, walks into Five Star National Bank in Denver. 

He’d been scoping the bank out, and knew they had no security guards onsite. Sure, some cameras. But he has his mask and gloves. He’s being careful. He had this, dammit.

If only his stomach would settle. Butterflies probably. Just nerves. This is his first bank robbery, after all. One can expect to be nervous, right?

And it goes remarkably smoothly. The bank is nearly empty, just three workers and a couple customers. The dude at the first register swiftly empties his. Then the next guy. Then the woman. Three registers full of cash. He’ll count it later. Cha-ching!

No one challenges him. They just hand over the money! 

Hey, I might need to do this again - this is easy!

Chester turns to leave the bank. But even after such an easy and brilliant robbery, the butterflies persist. Then the room starts spinning a bit. Then a bit more than just a bit. 

Then he starts violently vomiting.

Uh oh.

Step Two: Mix in 5 witnesses. Make sure to get the account of each individual, as each offers their own flavor of commentary.

“The guy just seemed off the whole time. Nervous maybe. Just unsteady”, says Zak, the young bank teller. The officer jots this down. The kid seems incredibly amused by all this. Like this was the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

“At one point the young man waved his gun at me. Well, I guess it wasn’t really at me. He was just waving it around the room. Quite frantically. I think he was shaking.” Elanor, one of the bank customers at the time, is fighting back tears. The officer hands her a Kleenex. “The shaking actually made it scarier. He just didn’t seem to be in control of things.”

“No, at no point was I ever scared”, states the bank manager, Judy. “Yes, this was my first robbery. But we’ve had training. We have protocols. We gave him the money. Then I pressed the under-counter alert button. I knew the police would be there shortly.”

“I don’t think I noticed there was a robbery until halfway through,” says customer Adam. “I was looking through my phone and had my headphones on. It’s not like he was yelling or anything. At one point I looked up and there was this guy with a gun. And his knees - his knees were shaking real bad. I think he was more scared than any of us were. Bro just didn’t seem right.”

“The whole thing was just weird. You could tell he was trying to be cool and calm, but he didn’t seem to have it all together.” Jeffrey the bank teller pauses for a moment, considering. “Then, well, then came the vomiting. Ugh. And I’m the kind of person that when I see someone throw up… I throw up too. So yeah, things got ugly.”

Step Three: Set your other ingredients aside for a moment. Let’s add a quick flashback.

Chester has his gun. Should I have grabbed bullets, just in case? Nah, too late. 

He’d picked up a mask. And gloves. He even bought different colored contacts - he’s especially proud of himself for that stroke of genius. Oh, and a Raiders jersey. He’s a Broncos fan, so no one would ever suspect him. He’s ready.

He’ll do it tomorrow morning. Maybe sleep in a little, then do it. 

It’s mid-afternoon now and in the midst of his preparation he’d skipped lunch. He swings into the gas station around the corner from his apartment and grabs a six pack and some lotto tickets. Now, what to eat? He considers his options. The turkey sandwiches look slimy and gross. The hot dog has probably been on the roller for weeks. Hell no. Pizza? Nah, had it yesterday. 

Ahh, here we go - sushi. And spicy tuna, his favorite. Has to be a sign, right? Tomorrow is going to go so well!

Step Four: Add in a twist by mixing the original ingredients with the flashback.

The bank lobby floor is a pool of vomit. Chester’s struggling to keep his balance, doing a little dance to avoid falling. He sets his gun down on a table and steadies himself. By now his mask is long gone, thrown off to make room for the vomit to escape his body. 

Am I sick? Noooo, it’s never been this bad. Did I eat something weird? Maybe? What did I have yesterday? Froot Loops as usual for breakfast. No lunch. Then… oh no. The gas station sushi.

The witnesses just gaze on in awe. The younger teller is laughing. The manager, she’s nodding, completely satisfied with this turn of events. The kid on his phone seems to be recording this now. Shit. The other teller begins throwing up himself behind the counter. And the old lady starts towards him, as if unsure whether to offer help or not. She ultimately decides not to. 

I need to get the hell out of here.

Chester wipes his mouth, straightens, and starts walking as fast as he can out of the bank. His mask is on the floor somewhere. His gun is sitting on a table. But he still has his bag of cash. His precious, wonderful cash.

He exits the bank, struggling to make sense of his situation.

Shit, where’s my car? Where’d I leave it?

He’d been so proud of himself for thinking to park it around the block, so the bank cameras wouldn’t record his plates. Now it seems miles away.

Then things suddenly go from bad to worse. As anyone who’s had food poisoning knows, things often explode from both ends. Chester needs to find a toilet. Fast. 

Step Five: Things are heating up now. Before we wrap up, let’s sprinkle in a nearby coffee shop, one with very strict bathroom rules.

Chester frantically looks around the street. Very few options in terms of a public bathroom.

Ahh, here we go - 4 Pines Coffee. They’ll have a bathroom.

Chester runs into the store and darts toward the back where the restrooms are. He yanks on the handle, and… locked. There’s a sign on the door: “Restrooms are for paying customers ONLY.” Of course.

He scrambles to the front of the shop, examining the line. Just two people. 

Oh wait, the gun. I’ll just wave it around and make them give me the key.

Then it strikes him - he’d set the gun down in the bank. He has no weapon. Waiting has become his sole option. 

Oh god, please hurry up, people!

Now, Chester’s luck isn’t all bad. Inside that coffee shop, he actually gets a rare bit of good luck. Both customers order black drip coffee and quickly pay - possibly just eager to exit the store and the smell of this man behind them in line. He throws a water bottle onto the counter and tosses a five onto the counter. 

“Keep the change! I just need the bathroom key!”

The barista, confused and grossed out by the look and smell of this particular customer, quickly hands over the key.

Chester sprints towards the bathroom with the determination of an olympian.

I might just make it! Finally, something’s working out for me…

Step Six: Garnish your dish with 2 police offers, patiently waiting outside the 4 Pines Coffee restroom for their perp.

George and Pedro have been partners for 3 years, and while most days tend to be fairly slow, they enjoy their work. And the company. The men have become close friends. And they make it home safely everyday, which is all that matters.

Pedro looks at George, definitely amused by the situation. “Another flush. I think that’s the third one.”

“Yeah… And we’re sure he’s unarmed?” George is less sure about this. Seems too easy.

“According to the witnesses, the perp was carrying just the one pistol. Which it turns out was empty. And he set it on the table after he started… well, you know.”

“But it’s possible he still has another weapon?”

“Yeah, it’s possible. We’ll play it safe. Just in case.”

Another flush. A moan echoes from inside the restroom.

Then the sink. And the hand dryer.

The two officers raise their guns and aim at the door. It begins to creep open slowly.

Both officers tense up. Just in case.

“Police! Put your arms up!” announces Pedro. 

Facing the two officers is the perfect portrait of pathetic. The man standing in the doorway, holding the frame to support himself, is certainly weaponless. Covered in vomit. Drool dripping down his chin. Eyes glazed over. Tired, confused. Struggling to understand the situation he’s found himself in. 

This man, who we’ve been calling Chester… he was cooked.

Step Seven: Serve and enjoy!