3 out of 101 things NOT to do while on a job… Make Sex Noises While Using the Drill

"EVERYONE DOWN!" Dallas screamed. They were in a bank. An awesome bank. With a bunch of shit to steal. The cops were on their asses. Things like this made Dallas wonder how and if the government had enough money for the kind of things they bring out to kick their asses. I mean, a guy who can withstand like 10 magazines of bullets? Wow. "Drill stat-"

"Oh yeah! Mmm..."

"What the royal fuck…?" Dallas asked, crawling towards the room with the safe.

There sat Chains, making all kinds of sex noises while the drill did its job. He wasn't even playing with himself or anything. He was just sitting there making sex noises like a maniac.

"What the hell?!" Dallas asked once again, rolling his eyes.

"What? I think the cops will go away if we make sex noises. Maybe they'll think some of the civilians are weird sex addicts who like to go around in clown masks and have sex while waving around guns..."

Five minutes later…

Sergeant Stereotype entered the bank, holding his gun. His officer friend stood beside him. They silently approached the door, not wanting the robbers to get away.

"Ohh yes! Yes!"

"Oh my God! This is so good!"

"Wait, my fuck machine stopped. Let me restart it..."

"Yes darling, I love this so much!"

"What the…?" Stereotype gasped, listening in on them.

"Oh! Thank goodness I have a clown fetish! I love being your girlfriend!"

"Even though you sound like a man… I mean, oh, oh, oh yes!"

"Sir, should we barge down the door?" The friend asked Stereotype.

"Um… let's not. Because if we do, we may get arrested and want our eyes bleached out. I guess someone has a weird fetish and is a weird sex addict." Stereotype. said, before calling the rest of the police force on his walkie talkie.

Once the officers left, the four laughed their butts off. They couldn't believe it worked… until they realized that some of the officers actually stayed behind…

4 out of 101 Things Not to Do While On A Job... Bring your Dog!

"Um, wait, the dog should stay in the van." Chains said.

"Come on, Chains. Just because you are rädd of my fluff bun does not mean I get to leave him behind. Bain said it was okay." Wolf snapped.

"Ugh. Do we have to take this mongrel with?" Chains said, looking at Dallas.

"I'm sorry, but if we leave Wolf in the car too long, he'll start getting bored and blow civilians up..." Dallas shrugged.

"I don't mean Wolf, I mean the goddamn dog!" Chains argued.

"Jesus… We're taking the damn dog. This coffee place happens to be pet-friendly." Dallas sighed.

"Come on, Chains, you honestly can't be scared of a chihuahua..." Hoxton said, holding the squirmy rat-like thing in his arms.

"Yes, yes I can be scared of a fucking drowned rat of a dog… I can't believe a man like Wolf has to have a dog so damn ridiculous..." Chains sighed.

Hoxton handed the little dog to Wolf and the four of them walked up to the coffee store. Wolf sat down at a table in front of the shop with his cute little fluffy dog. Dallas smoked a cigarette in an alleyway. Chains was inside, making small talk with an officer who was too stupid to recognize him. Hoxton was drinking an expensive cup of coffee.

All of a sudden, a shot rang out. Civilians screamed left and right, and Wolf was standing up out front. The other three put on their masks and investigated. Wolf had just shot a woman in the forehead.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Chains asked. "What did you kill a random bitch for?"

"What? She touched my Älskling. No one touches my Älskling…" Wolf said.

"Oy vey..." Hoxton sighed, face palming.

"Shit. We got company..." Dallas said, staring at the sea of red and blue lights.

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Wolf's Glossary: Rädd → scared, Älskling → darling

A/N: You have to love Sergeant Stereotype. He's so… stereotypical!