Bolt - you dont need the money.

Suddenly you have an epiphany. You don't actually need money for anything. You can have anything you want for free. What's the point in messing about in the bank. Time to get out and have some fun. Money would only clutter you up. Fuck that!

You look around at the people you have exploded into the lives of. Or the mouth of in the case of the chubby girl in the yoga pants in front of you. You address her first.

"Paulina, its been fun, but go home, lose", you consider for a second, "thirty pounds. And dye your hair red".

She blinks, "uhh", then gets up as if drunk and staggers towards the door.

"You", you poke the businesswoman in her well proportioned tit, "and you Saoirse," you indicate the redheaded teller just out of reach, "stop that and follow me".

You cant quite tell if its **** or relief on both of their faces as the redhead stops poking the security guard's truncheon into the vagina of the businesswoman above her. They both get to their feet and turn and follow you as you head for the door. "Sort your skirt!" you admonish the businesswoman who quickly rearranges it from crumpled around her midriff to its intended location, covering the enormous hole in her pantyhose at the crotch. "Bye Moira!" you call to the naked mature woman on the swivel chair with the guard's penis in her mouth, but dont bother to wait for a reply, doing up your flies as you go.

Outside the main entry to the bank reveals the situation you expected. 4 police cars are parked in an arc around the door, the occupants outside on the opposite side of the cars, with their handguns drawn. Beyond them a crowd of onlookers with camera phones.