Now I hate to sound cruel but the last person I want to rob a bank with is Adam Pacelli. The guys a nervous wreck. And when he gets nervous, he becomes violent. And when he gets violent, he becomes a complete fucking psycho. Me, my brother, Larry and John were his only friends. Why? Well let's face it. Only two fucked up kids, a fat kid and a retard would want to hang around with a complete psycho. Kids have lost their two front teeth just by looking at him the wrong way and here I am wondering whether I should hand him a knife or an unloaded gun. I'll admit, this day wasn't exactly a can of fucking peaches.

I should have been rich by now. I should have been a on a bus to San Andreas thinking of all the women in their short skirts and bikini's. I should have been buying a blonde girl drinks in Liberty City and praying to god for a blowjob. I should have been in a limo, licking champagne off the breasts of a call-girl. Instead, I'm sat smoking my third cigarette in an hour, hidden away in the shadows of an alley not even fit for a bum. I never would have had this shit if my cousin Ricky was here. Ricky would have robbed that bank in the same time it takes a virgin to masturbate. He'd have walked in there, guns blazing. Shame then that Ricky was serving nine years in a county jail for grand theft auto. Seems a lot don't it? Nine years. But that was Ricky. He always did have the worst luck. He'd been dating this girl that he'd met at work. Crystal, I think her name was. Let me tell you a few things about Crystal. She was a stunner. I'm telling you, every guy at that place had to think of her when they jerked off. Perfect body, perfect smile. She had it all. So anyway, the more time my cousin Ricky spends with her, the more he's falling in love. He starts saving up for a ring. But the more he's saving, the less money he can spend on taking Crystal out. So this gets her to thinking he ain't as interested anymore. Before poor Ricky can even pop the question, she dumps him. And just to rub salt into the wound, the next day she's got a new boyfriend. Can you believe that? One day. Well this screws Ricky up big time. He starts missing work, getting drunk and getting into fights. He's spiralling out of control. And then his mom, my aunt, kicks him out. So now Ricky's wondering around Broker, drunk out his gauge with nowhere to sleep. It's November. The guys freezing. So what does he do? He breaks into a car so he can get out of the cold. The next morning he wakes up on the backseat with two cops beating the shit out of him. Ricky, the stupid fuck, had broken into a police cruiser. Nine years. The judge didn't even blink.

"It ain't too late to call it off," Adam said. "You know, if you wanna?"

I exhaled another cloud of smoke, pacing up and down the alley, making sure to avoid anything that looked remotely like dog shit. My heart had stopped pounding now. I'd been panicking for a moment but I had my senses back. The situation was, there were two of us on a five man job. We had two knives that looked like they'd struggle to penetrate butter and we had a gun that wasn't even loaded. Plus we had a ballpoint pen that our friend, the jolly retard, thought would look dangerous. In years to come, when they talk about the greatest robberies of all time, this would not be one of them.

"Why?" I asked. "Do you?"

"Maybe I do," Adam said. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the floor. "And then again maybe I don't. All I know is there are only two of us now and we've all done so far is argue and smoke cigarettes. No offence but we gotta start acting professional."

"Professional?" I replied, throwing away my cigarette. "It's a small bank in a small town. Unless you wanna start drilling through the floor I don't see how this job exactly requires professionals."

"I'm just saying, alright?"

"You're just saying? Well don't. I mean Jesus Christ, what is it with you? I'm about to make you rich and you've done is complain. I had to turn my back on my own brother. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

His face contorted as he stopped staring at the floor. "You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. My brother Henry is in jail. My uncle Raymond is in jail. My cousin Stephen is on trial. Do you know what this would do to my parents if I went to jail?"

"It'd break your mother's heart," I mocked, "yeah, you already told me."

"Listen to mister compassion over here."

I ran at him screaming, "fuck you amateur," my finger pointed at his face. I settled my breathing, counted to ten and then I backed off. "Give me the gun."

"Why?" he asked. "You gonna shoot me now?"

"Don't talk stupid," I said. "The gun ain't loaded, remember?"

He passes me his backpack and I start rummaging around for the butt of a .38 Special. I quickly realize that what I'm reaching into is Pandora's Box. Adam seems to have everything but the kitchen sink hidden away in his bag. Books, candy, gym shorts, pencils, rubbers, an old pair of socks, a box of matches, an eighth of marijuana. But no knives. And worse yet, no gun.

"What the fuck is this?" I shouted, throwing aside some mouldy sandwiches. "Your lunchbox? Where's the gun?"

"It's in there," he replied. "Keep looking."

I emptied the entire contents out. "Unless it's disguised as an issue of Playboy, I can't fucking see it. Now where is the gun?"

"You're joking right?" He grabs the bag and starts checking for himself. "I'm telling you, it was in here. The knives too. They can't have just vanished."

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. "Motherfucker. That cock-sucking piece of shit. I don't believe this."

"What?"

"That asshole. That retarded fucking asshole."

"What the fuck are we playing here? Captain May I? What's going on?"

"Larry's still got the gun."

"What do you mean Larry's still got the gun?"

"What I mean," I replied, speaking real slow to make my point, "is that the gun and the knives are still in Larry's faggot rainbow backpack and me and you are stood holding our dicks. Do you understand me now?"

"Oh Jesus Christ," he said. "This is bad."

"Bad? No it was bad ten minutes ago. Now it's in a different fucking league of bad, okay? This day just went from shit to diarrhea. You were right last night. We should have cut that fat prick loose."

I leaned against the brick wall, my head in my hands, desperate for another cigarette. One look at my watch told me it was 10:25. It was almost too late now anyway. Housewives and coffin dodgers would soon flood the centre of town, spending what little money they had on worthless shit that they didn't even need. My mother was one of them. I couldn't be seen. The window of opportunity was closing in on me. This day couldn't get any worse. Take my advice. Never underestimate the stupidity of your friends.

"Well that's it then," Adam announced. "It's over. We can't rob the bank now. All we can do is go back to school. Am I right?"

"We ain't calling it off," I told him. "No way. No fucking way."

"Hey. I wasn't saying I wanted to. The thing is Carlo, you have to understand that the situation that we're in now ain't the same as the situation that we were in ten minutes ago. Two people on a five man job without any kind of weapons ain't my idea of fun, okay? Now you need to pull your head out of the god damned clouds and start thinking clearly."

The cheek of this guy. "You sure changed your tune. An hour ago you were bitching about your fifteen dollars. Now you wanna talk like you're a professional?"

"I'm acting more professional than you. Kicking walls ain't getting us nowhere fast, is it?"

"Okay," I said as I approached him. "You wanna act professional? Tell me your plan. Tell me your big fucking idea that's going to make us rich. Because right now all I'm hearing is a lot of talk and no fucking action."

"There is no plan," he laughed at me. "Can't you get that into that thick skull of yours? You walk into that building without so much as a pocket knife and I promise you they'll laugh your ass right back out the fucking door. Now cut your god damned losses and lets go home."

That's when it hit me. A new plan. Of course. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? I'd read about it in a newspaper once. It was perfect. Suddenly I could see light at the end of the tunnel. "You still got that pen?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "You mean the one John brought? The ballpoint? What the hell do you want with that?"

"Do you have it or not?"

My heart leapt as he removed the pen from his shirt pocket. A moment ago I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Now I was grinning, ear to ear. A moment ago I wanted to kill myself. Now I was happy. Really happy. Dears jumping over hedges happy.

"Why are you smiling?" Adam asked me with a hint of fear. "I don't like that you're smiling. This isn't a good thing. It's a fucking pen. You can't rob a bank with a pen. They know that, you know. Everywhere you look inside a bank, you see a pen. Do you know why? Because nobody in their right fucking mind would try and rob a bank with one. Now quit smiling cause it ain't happening."

"Follow my lead."

"Carlo, come on. You can't be serious."

"All you gotta do is follow my lead. Now come on. And bring your backpack."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret ever meeting you?"

"Trust me."

As we crossed the street I could hear Adam muttering under his breath but I didn't care much. I had a new found confidence and for the first time since I'd woken up, it felt like things were actually going my way. We entered through the glass doors of the Vice City Bank, my nostrils assaulted by the smell of fresh paint. We stood there on a floor of stone white marble, people of all ages walking around us. Rows upon rows of cashier's desks were connected by solid pine. The rest of the room was panelled and furnished tastefully, a leather armchair here and a leather armchair there. At the opposite end of the room I could see the vault and I eyed with it with a deep intensity. My life was about to change forever. We made our way past a number of antique tables watching the white collars speak into their telephones. I watch the security guard and for a brief moment he watches me back. Smiling to myself, I join a queue of about six people.

"This is nuts," Adam says under his breath. "Everyone can see our faces. I don't like this. I really don't like this. Let's just go. Let's get out of here."

"Adam," I said. "You need to calm down. Just take some deep breaths, okay?"

"I'm telling you I can't breathe. I need to go outside. Is that guard looking at us? He looks like he's looking right at me. Can we go? Please?"

"You need to shut up, calm down and follow my lead. Okay? You cool?"

"We should have worn a god damned disguise."

"Yeah well we didn't. But that's a risk that we're going to have to take. Now answer me. Are-you-cool?"

He pauses for a brief moment but then replies, "yeah. Yeah I'm cool."

A few minutes later, we finally got our turn in the queue. The cashier was an unattractive blonde who must have been in her late thirties. She wore her hair up and had on a pair of black rimmed spectacles. I check her name badge. Karen. She seems impatient as he she motions for us to step forward. Her voice was robotic, her tone harsh.

"Hello sirs," she said with an artificial smile. "Welcome to the Vice City Bank. What can I do for you today?" When I didn't reply right away she sighed, saying to me, "can I help you?"

"I sure hope so," I said, perhaps a little too enthusiastic. "You'll have to excuse me. I'm having one of those days. My landlord is breathing down my neck, he really is. From out of nowhere he's saying I'm overdue on some rent. Now I'm sure as hell that he told me it was due on the 14th of every month, but now what he's telling me is that he basically wants it on the 10th of every month. And as todays the 11th, there's a good chance of me getting kicked out. Thing is, I'm all out of cheque's. Have you got any spare?"

"Of course," she says. "I'll be just one moment."

As she begins reaching under the counter, Adam leans in toward me, sweating so bad that I thought he might pass out. "Was the story really necessary?" he asks. "I mean, it was a nice touch and all but couldn't you have just asked her for the cheque?"

I couldn't help but find the situation rather amusing. "You sound nervous?"

"Gee. I can't for the world of me imagine why."

Karen sits upright, the artificial smile returning to her face. "Here you go sir. If you'd like to write it now I can cash it for you."

"Really? That'd be great."

"Would you like a pen?"

I held up John's ballpoint saying, "I got one. Thanks anyway."

I moved to the far edge of the counter, uttering "stupid cunt" under my breath and then making sure that I was out of her line of sight. I thought for a moment about what to write and then, in large capital letters, I wrote on the back of the check:

OPEN THE REGISTER AND FILL THE BAG WITH MONEY

WE HAVE GUNS

WE'LL SHOOT YOU IF WE HAVE TO

I returned to the counter and handed her the cheque, excitement and exhilaration causing my hand to tremble. This was easy. Perhaps too easy. "I think that should keep him off my back a while longer."

Karen looked down at the cheque with a puzzled look. "Erm…sir…you haven't written anything."

"I didn't write it on the back did I? I always do that. I'm such a klutz sometimes."

She turned the cheque over and began to read. It happened in an instant. That artificial smile that she'd worn like a badge of honour was gone. Her eyes were wide. Her lip trembled. She dropped the cheque, staring at me in fear. There was no going back now.

"Don't make a scene," I told her, passing Adam's backpack across the counter towards her. "Just do everything we say and nobody gets hurt, do you understand?"

Her hand shaking, she takes the bag and opens up the register. "Please don't kill me," she says, a tear strolling down her cheek. "Please. I have a little boy."

"Look Karen. You're not going to get hurt. Just keep filling the bag and we'll be out of here before you know it."

She began filling the bag. Twenties. Tens. It was a glorious sight. Truly beautiful. The plan had worked. I was right. This was too easy. There were a few people behind me who had recently joined the queue but neither of them seemed to notice the robbery that was taking place right in front of them.

"This is taking too long," Adam said.

"Would you quit looking around like that," I replied. "I'm serious. Quit it."

"Are you listening to me? I said its taking too long."

Karen handed over the bag, fear still etched across her face. "That's everything I've got."

I smiled. It was over. I'd won. Finally I could have my old life back. I had to grab Adam's arm as he turned around. "Whatever you do," I told him, "don't run."

We'd just began walking when I froze on the spot, my heart sinking, my mood changing. I was staring into the bag and I hated what I saw. "What the fuck is this?" I screamed, turning back to Karen.

"W-what?"

"You heard me the first time. What the fuck is this?" My voice was loud. Too loud. People's heads were turning, riveted toward me. I didn't care. "There can't be more than a thousand dollars in here. What, are you kidding me? I could have robbed more from Burger Shot. Where's the rest of the money Karen?"

Too far. She broke out in hysterics. Tears flooded her cheeks. Her face was in her hands. More heads were turned in our direction. Adam was jumping around like a crazy person, trying to drag me toward the door.

"Nice job mister compassionate," he yelled. "Can we go now?"

"Would you quit calling me that," I said. I turned to Karen, staring her right in the eyes. "You're supposed to be a bank. Where's the money?"

"Is there a problem here," the guard asked, appearing at our side.

"There wasn't until you showed up," I snarled. "Why don't you do yourself a favour and fuck off."

He turns to Karen. "Is everything okay?"

"Jack be careful," she screams. "He's got a gun."

Chaos broke out. First Adam panics, punching the guard to the floor. This is followed by screams, coming from all sides of the bank. And then finally there's an alarm, deafening, flooding my ears. I couldn't think with the noise. Adam was saying something but I couldn't hear him. The next thing I know he's right in my face, shouting, "we gotta go. Right now."

My senses returned. No way. No way was I going through all this for a thousand dollars. I climbed up on the counter, angry, determined. "Everybody get down on the floor. This is a robbery. Get the fuck down." They did as I said. I gotta admit, I wasn't scared anymore. I felt powerful. To see everybody following my every command like that, it made me happy. "If anybody feels like playing a hero," I shouted out to them, "we'll kill you. We're here for the banks money so sit tight and this will all be over real soon." I jumped back down off of the counter, noticing Karen was laying down on the floor. "Not you Karen," I said, pulling her up by her hair. "You're going to fill this bag until it's full. Do you understand me?" No reply. I yank her hair back and she screams. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she sobbed, taking the bag and opening up a register next to hers.

"Watch her real close," I said to Adam.

His mouth wide open, he began shaking his head. "Why? What the fuck are you gonna do? Go to the toilet? We gotta get the fuck out of here. Can you hear that alarm? That means the cops are on their way. That means there could be cops right now waiting for us outside. We gotta go and we gotta go now."

"Just watch her."

I started walking along the rows of people sprawled across the floor. I was searching for a blue suit. I'd clocked the guy the moment we'd entered the bank. This one man meant the difference between walking out of here with a little money or walking out of here rich. Then I spotted him, shaking like a little girl over in the corner. I approached him and he seemed to shake even harder. I grabbed him by the shirt. His jaw vibrated as he spoke.

"I'll do whatever you say, just don't hurt me."

"You the manager?" I asked.

"Y-yes."

"Good. Now get up." He remained motionless. I didn't have time for this. I dragged him to his feet whilst screaming, "I said get the fuck up."

As he did so, his arms remained outstretched in a surrender position. "Please. Just take whatever money there is and leave."

"Open the vault," I told him.

"I-I can't."

I smashed his head into the table, his nose exploding all over the sheets of paper. I lifted the phone receiver, ready to crack his skull open right there and then in front of everybody. "I said open the vault."

"I'm telling you," he cried. "I can't. The only time the vault is opened is at eight in the morning and six in the evening. They don't give us keys."

"If you're fucking lying to me, I swear to god-"

"I-I earn less than twenty thousand a year. Why would I lie?"

He had a good point. I released him, forcing him back down to the ground. "Just stay on the floor and don't move."

I turned around and Adam was staring at me in astonishment. I shrugged and walked back toward him. Karen, still crying uncontrollably, had just handed him the backpack full of money. Adam stared at his watch, almost crying himself.

"Can we go now?"

"Yeah," I said. "Let's get the fuck out of here." Before we left, I took one last glance at Karen and uttered a silent apology. Then we ran for the door, a few ten dollar bills falling from the bag as we both tried to open it at once.

I had to blink a few times to adjust my eyes. I'd forgotten how bright it was outside. But before I could even take another step, I heard a voice screaming the one word no criminal ever wants to hear.

"VCPD! Freeze!"

There were two police cars already at the scene, police officers leant over their doors, guns raised, aiming right at us. Sirens wailed in the distance. People stood in the doorways of nearby stores, watching intensively. I never expected the pigs of Vice City to respond this quickly. I'd always pictured them as donut eating old men who were too proud to retire. But these cops were nothing of the sort. They were angry, heavily built, ready to kill us if we made a wrong move.

"Get down on the ground," one of them shouted. "Now!"

"Oh shit," Adam cried next to me. "We're going to fucking jail. I knew it."

"Down on the ground," the cop repeated. "I won't ask you again."

"Just stay calm," I muttered to Adam. "There's an alley about twenty feet behind us that runs the entire length of the bank. When I say, we run."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? I'm not sure if you've noticed but they've got guns and we'll got is a fucking ballpoint pen."

"We will fire," shouted another officer. "Get down on the ground."

"Okay," I shouted back. "We're going to lay down real slow." I then muttered under my breath, "on three," to Adam.

"Oh Jesus Christ. You are crazy!"

"…two…three!"

We turned and ran. Dozens of angry voices were screaming for us to "freeze" but no way was I going to jail. We darted along the alley and climbed a wall that brought us out into a busy street full of elderly shoppers. Sirens were wailing in all directions. This was madness.

"Get out of the fucking way," I shouted, pushing over anybody that crossed my path. People were shouting after us but we were like caged animals who had just been released. A cop car pulled out right in front of us and I jumped up, running along the bonnet and heading towards the park. Adam was slowing down. "Come on," I yelled. I could hear a helicopter now. How the fuck did the police of Vice City ever get a chopper in the air this quickly? The park was mainly deserted and so we ran across the recently cut grass toward the chain link fence. On the other side of that fence was freedom. A golf club, two miles in diameter. If we made it to the other side, the cops wouldn't stand a chance. That's when Adam collapsed. I'd ran twenty yards before I'd noticed. "What the fuck are you doing? Come on."

"I can't. I'm in agony. My sides…"

I ran back to him and began dragging him to his feet. "I'm not leaving you here. Get on your feet. On your fucking feet."

He pushed me back, shaking his head. "I'm telling you, I can't."

Over at the other end of the park I saw half a dozen cops running towards us, screaming at the tops of their voices. A tear dropped down my cheek. "I can't just leave you here."

"Just go."

"I can't."

He grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me closer and screaming in my face, "I won't tell them your name. Now get out of here."

I took one last look at him, sat there, defenceless, and then I ran. I hopped the chain link fence and entered the golf club. In the space of two hours I'd turned my back on both my brother and my best friend. Like I said, this day wasn't exactly a can of fucking peaches.