Cut Me Open

“I want it all, the fuck now, in this bag,” French held the gun against the woman behind the counter’s head, she could barely see the girl’s face through the black mesh in front of her face.

The woman hurriedly started shoving stacks of money from the cash register into French’s awaiting potato-sack, “That’s all,” the woman insisted.

French looked around the room at all the dead-bodies, “I don’t know if I believe that,” she pulled the trigger and watched greedily as the back of the woman’s head hit the back-wall. She giggled and looked around at her Hench-men, “Come on guys.”

“You didn’t have to shoot her, French,” one of them said.

She laughed maliciously and then aimed the gun at him and pulled the trigger, “Anyone else want to question me?” No one replied, “Good.”

French opened the nearest car door and hot-wired it and took off down the road, leaving her hench-men on the side of the road. She laughed hysterically as she saw a black cloth move over the top of the buildings. She pressed down on the gas harder. When she looked in the mirror, she could see the Batman bringing the punishment down on her former hench-men. She laughed even more, barely able to keep driving. They wanted to be part of a bank robbery. She parked the stolen car a couple blocks from her house and called the house-phone.

“Hello,” Robert, her head hench-man answered the phone.

“Hey, send three of the guys down here, to come help me with this money. They have ten minutes, I’m at the usual spot,” she hung up and started unloading the three large bags of money, plus the one small potato bag. Five minutes later, three of her men were coming around the corner, “Good timing, I was just about to start planning your deaths.”

They tried not to let her see the intimidation that was clearly showing on them. They each grabbed three bags and French grabbed hers and took the lead. They followed her down the road, she was running. They were trying to keep up with her, they were literally chasing her for their lives. When they made it to the house she turned around and stared at them, “Just be happy that I’m not the Joker. You would all be dead by now, if I was.”

They tried not to let her words bother them, they carried the money into her room/office and left her alone. She started counting the money. She put into two piles. Her pile was exponentially larger than the other pile. The smaller pile was for her hench-men to share. After she was done hiding her part of the money, she called Robert to her office. She didn’t allow him and tossed the money at him.

“Split it up,” she demanded.

After that was done, she took a shower and laid down on her bed. After sleeping for a little bit, she turned on the TV and watched as her hench-men got taken to jail. She started laughing, they looked so scared, “Be glad you’re not dead,” she yelled at the TV, laughing even harder. Has the Joker strike again? it said across the bottom. “No!” she yelled.

There was a knock on the door, “Eh Boss?” Robert asked. “Yeah!” she called. “They snitched.”

She sat up in the bed and ripped the door open, “What do you mean they snitched?” she demanded.

“Turn up the volume.”

She turned it up, “The four men caught today, told the police they were not working for The Joker. Although, they did not release their employer’s name, they have given the police the whereabouts of the next robbery they planned.”

French began laughing again, “Too bad I gave them the wrong address.”

“French we need to leave,” Robert begged.

French rolled her eyes, “Fine, get the men ready. They have one hour. You, Jay, Matt and Jared have fifteen minutes. Have you passed out the money?” “No.”

“Don’t, meet me in the back of the van with them. Fifteen minutes,” she shut the door and started to sloppily pack her bags.

Ten minutes later, she was setting in her van, waiting on the four other men. They came running out with their bags and jumped in the back, “Do you have the money?” she demanded. “Yeah,” Robert said.

She pressed the detonator and zoomed off towards an abandoned warehouse. Five minutes later, she could see an explosion in the rear-view mirror. She laughed maliciously, “Was that necessary?” Robert asked.

“No,” she replied, rolling her eyes, when she pulled over to the warehouse, she looked back at the men, “Throw the bags out the window.”

They did as she told them as she secretly pressed another detonator and jumped out the van. As the last bag fell out of the window the van exploded. She laughed even harder. Poor Robert, he really thought he was going to make it out alive.

She kicked open the warehouse door and stepped right into the middle of a large group of men. In the middle of them all, an average height-man in a purple suit with green-tinted hair, turned around, his face was painted like a clown, “Well hello, beautiful, were you the one making all that noise?”

“So, there you are,” she said, amused, “The one, the only, the Joker.”