Eddy and Tom were the detectives assigned to figuring out the "Color
Robbery"
As they stepped into the blood-covered schoolhouse, their noses were hit with the unmistakable stench of blood.
"Fuck me!" Eddy exclaimed.
"Jesus these fuckers sure went to town," commented Tom.
"You're tellin me. Just look at this place, these fuckers just butchered each other."
"Damn, check out that guy's face. Look's like he stuck it in a blender."
"This shit is terrible, I'm gonna be sick," Eddy said, feeling queasy.
"Naw, these fuckers got what they deserved, did you see the bank? One of these fuckers, maybe the red one, just started shootin people, for no good reason."
"They all look pretty red to me man."
"True."
"Hey, I got the code to the briefcase, almost forgot. The bank owner sent it to us after it went down, said that it didn't matter that we had it," Tom said.
"Let's open this mother up."
Tom reached down and input the code into the briefcase's keypad. The distinct click of locks opening proved that the code was correct. Tom opened the case, revealing a crystal snowglobe.
"This is what those bastards massacred each other over, a fucking snowglobe?" Eddy was in disbelief.
"Something tells me they didn't know that."
"Oh."
"Well, fuck 'em anyway, they got what they deserved."
"Yeah, case closed. You want a drink? I'm buying."
"Sure."
So the case was indeed closed.
But if they hadn't closed the case, and delved a little further, then maybe they might have found the men's "secure mailboxes."
And maybe, with the box information, they might have tracked down who sent the plans.
Maybe they might have found out that a man named Kyle Greenspan sent the plans.
Maybe they could have tracked down Mr. Greenspan by his motor vehicle registration, a green Rumpo.
Maybe they might have realized that, on that one fateful day in the bank, the mainframe's connection to the electronic accounts had been activated.
Maybe they would have noticed that $100 million had been taken and put into a Swiss account.
Maybe, just maybe, they might have realized that not everything was as it seemed.
And, most importantly, maybe they could have understood that the fifth horseman, the great destroyer that will finally erase mankind, is Greed.
Maybe they could have seen the irony in the fact that this "fifth horseman", the Grand Marshall of man's parade into Hell so proudly shouts:
"In God We Trust."
As they stepped into the blood-covered schoolhouse, their noses were hit with the unmistakable stench of blood.
"Fuck me!" Eddy exclaimed.
"Jesus these fuckers sure went to town," commented Tom.
"You're tellin me. Just look at this place, these fuckers just butchered each other."
"Damn, check out that guy's face. Look's like he stuck it in a blender."
"This shit is terrible, I'm gonna be sick," Eddy said, feeling queasy.
"Naw, these fuckers got what they deserved, did you see the bank? One of these fuckers, maybe the red one, just started shootin people, for no good reason."
"They all look pretty red to me man."
"True."
"Hey, I got the code to the briefcase, almost forgot. The bank owner sent it to us after it went down, said that it didn't matter that we had it," Tom said.
"Let's open this mother up."
Tom reached down and input the code into the briefcase's keypad. The distinct click of locks opening proved that the code was correct. Tom opened the case, revealing a crystal snowglobe.
"This is what those bastards massacred each other over, a fucking snowglobe?" Eddy was in disbelief.
"Something tells me they didn't know that."
"Oh."
"Well, fuck 'em anyway, they got what they deserved."
"Yeah, case closed. You want a drink? I'm buying."
"Sure."
So the case was indeed closed.
But if they hadn't closed the case, and delved a little further, then maybe they might have found the men's "secure mailboxes."
And maybe, with the box information, they might have tracked down who sent the plans.
Maybe they might have found out that a man named Kyle Greenspan sent the plans.
Maybe they could have tracked down Mr. Greenspan by his motor vehicle registration, a green Rumpo.
Maybe they might have realized that, on that one fateful day in the bank, the mainframe's connection to the electronic accounts had been activated.
Maybe they would have noticed that $100 million had been taken and put into a Swiss account.
Maybe, just maybe, they might have realized that not everything was as it seemed.
And, most importantly, maybe they could have understood that the fifth horseman, the great destroyer that will finally erase mankind, is Greed.
Maybe they could have seen the irony in the fact that this "fifth horseman", the Grand Marshall of man's parade into Hell so proudly shouts:
"In God We Trust."