Oh A.J. my love. With this money, I'll buy you a large, diamond encrusted. . . something or other. Possibly a puppy. I bet A.J. would like a puppy. Damn. R.J. Whatever.
Anya took a quick glance around the darkened streets of Sunnydale, clutching a small burlap bag with the words, "Money For A.J." hastily scrawled across it. Quickening her pace, she stopped in front of the First National Bank of Sunnydale. Her heart was pounding, but not because she was afraid of getting caught. She was concerned that either Buffy or Willow would get to R.J. first. She wasn't concerned about Dawn. Dawn couldn't do anything right.
Sensing that her time was short, she pulled the overly dramatic ski mask down over her face. She knew from television that this was what people did when they robbed banks. If Charlie's Angels robbed places of fiscal holdings, they'd look like her. And really, she wasn't robbing the bank, per se. No, not robbing it at all. She was merely relocating some excess capital from the undeserving (everybody) to the oh so very hunky deserving (R.J.). She was Robin Hood, only with perky breasts and better dental care.
Briskly, she opened her bag and removed an antique glass cutter. (When you're in the magical items biz, you come across a lot of antique stuff.) Slowly, she scratched a wide rectangle across the bottom half of the front door. Having accomplished this, she grabbed a toilet plunger out of the bag. She tried to get some sort of purchase on the glass with it, and realized that she'd done it backwards. Plunger first, then cut. Damn. So, she stuck the plunger to the top half of the door, then began to cut again.
The stress of this was too much for the poor door. The entire thing shattered in a bazillion pieces. Blaring alarms awoke, screaming about the intruder.
"Shut up! Shut up! Can't you please shut up?!?" Anya shrieked at the din. Realizing that her invective wasn't going to stop the alarm, she quickly gathered up her mediocre equipment, and beat a hasty retreat. "What kind of a bank would put alarms on the front door? I mean, really, what does this say about the society we live in?" she pouted.
Washington Mutual Now With Free Checking! read the sign.
"Washington Mutual now with stupid metal shutters pulled down over the entire front of the building," sniffed Anya.
However, Anya skipped that block and never even knew of its existence.
"Give me... uh, I mean..." Anya lowered her voice register, "Give me all your money or I'll... I'll cut all the glass out of your windows!"
The middle eastern convenince store clerk merely stared at the masked figure in front of him, his jaw slack, his eyes glazed. He began gabbling loudly in some language that Anya, even as a long time, erstwhile demon didn't know. Suddenly, a rather large woman dressed in a burkah and armed to the teeth burst out of the back, ululating like a banshee.
Anya blinked, then said, "I'm sorry, I don't think we're speaking the same language. Do you speak English? French? Swedish? Golgafrincham?"
There was a moments silence, then the magazine rack next to Anya exploded into confetti. Anya finally took the hint and fled.
Dejected, Anya sat on the curb near the movie theater, mask slightly askew, her bag of, "Money For A.J." clearly not fulfilling its title. People were trickling out of the theater around her, but she was oblivious.
"Stupid people with their stupid rules and laws. I bet that if I had a million dollars I could rob the stupid bank. Of course, if I had a million dollars I wouldn't need to rob the stupid bank in the first place. Now R.J. will never get his diamond encrusted puppy. And it's all your fault!" She abruptly stood up, and faced an older couple exiting the theater. Pointing a finger into his chest, she said, "You! You're a rich white male! You make all the rules around here! Tell me why can't I rob a bank? Huh?"
The woman clutched the man's arm, her eyes widening. "Irv, give him your wallet, quickly!" The man shakily reached into his jacket and pulled out a brown leather billfold, shoving it towards Anya.
"Here, take it, it's all I've got! Leave us alone!" The couple began running away as fast as Irv's wife's heels would let them.
Anya stood, stunned for an instant. Then, she rallied. "Oh no! You can't buy me off like this! I want an answer, dammit! Come back here!" She threw the billfold at them in a fit of pique. However, Irv and Mrs. just kept right on running. "And I'm not a HIM!" She stalked after the retreating figures, and bent to retreive the wallet.
"I just wanted a simple answer," she called out one more time. "And I have your wallet. Which I didn't really want! You can have it back..." she opened it up. "With all the... cash... inside..." She trailed off.
Inside was approximately five hundred dollars.
Hmmmm.
"Tonight, the bandit is still on the loose..." Anya reached over and snapped the radio off.
"So! Who wants ice cream? My treat!"