‘Stick ’em up!’ Karl yelled.
The three people in the queue raised their arms at the sight of two men holding sawn-off shotguns, nylon tights pulled over their faces.
‘I always want to say that,’ Karl said to Peter.
‘Just concentrate on the job. You, behind the counter, put all the money in a bag and pass it out.’
‘Don’t hurt us,’ an elderly woman pleaded.
‘Don’t worry, Betty, we’re just here to collect our pension. In a lump sum!’
‘Karl?’
‘Way to go, numb-nuts,’ Peter hissed.
‘Sorry, Peter.’
‘Sheesh. We’re meant to be incognito. Hey, lady, where’s our pension!’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Oh, I like this one, Rob. That slip adds just the right touch of wit, and you've drawn the scene really effectively.
Post a Comment