A Petty Thief

If Jean had any friends who could prank her, she would have thought this was one of her friends pranking her. The lanky man looked like someone Boogled the term 'burglar' and brought it to life. Decked in all black, he wore a knit beanie pulled low to hide his hair, an eye mask, highlighting his steel blue eyes, a thin, long sleeve shirt with black and white stripes (I can't stress enough how cliché this guy was), and tight black leggings. His shoes were out of view, but Jean would bet her freedom on them being black.

William started training his fingers at the age of 7 when his mother confiscated his PlayboyCube after she caught him gaming at 3 in the morning. Taking the key to the cabinet in which it was stowed was surprisingly easy, and the thrill of the reward locked the necessary synapses to lead him to his current life of pickpocketing, B&E, purse snatching, anything quick and ditchable in case of a bad job. He lived a modest life, drifting from town to town, surfing on motel beds while he worked odd jobs as a way to case shops. Malls were a special treat, because he had cultivated the skills that made him an ideal candidate for any security force, especially his willingness to work the graveyard shift. He never stayed longer than a month, unless one big score was worth the extra planning. Today, he was in this town. In a week, he'd be a ghost. Last night he was working in this mall. This minute he was picking the lock to what he hoped was a good take.

His late night shifts in a mall gave him the opportunity to find the blind spots of the cameras, and in the afternoons, he stalked anonymously among the customers: sticky fingers filching through pockets and purses, quick eyes spotting stores' safe's locations, and sharp ears catching combination codes. He was ready to make his move tonight, having exhausted every possible store to hit and chosen his five targets. William was aware how much he looked the part, but ironically, 'burglar in a striped shirt and mask with a burlap sack bulging with loot' is taken a lot less seriously by the police and made him less identifiable. My bag was still empty when I saw the girl in the harem costume laying in the middle of the atrium. It hadn't been here when he was in his shopper disguise that morning, so someone installed it within the three hours after closing and when his shift had now started. That would take a huge team to coordinate this giant glass cube and electric display, currently powered down. The sign he read made him chuckle out loud: A genie at ten bucks a pop. That'd make a killing if it was real. Hell, it'd be worth hitting if it was just an act; there's enough suckers in this town to fall for some good props and effects. A hot little actress was the icing on the cake.

William decided to shake up his usual plan and stay one more night, to try and include this wish vending machine with the other stores. Worst case scenario: No one uses the machine, and he wastes a few minutes on an easy looking lock (A fact he confirmed with the practice run of it.) With his evening freed up, he headed straight to the security room to doctor any camera footage necessary, and took the night to scout one last time. He got to bed around eight AM and crashed immediately. Around noon, he woke up on his worn Murphy bed, excited to see how the crowd reacted to the new attraction. It looked like he got there right as the show was scheduled to start, as he watched the purple painted 'genie' wake up and take in her surroundings. William yawned and blinked wearily, as no one was approaching the machine. He was about to approach himself, just to see if he wasted the perfect opportunity to take his score for some wild chance at this, but then a leggy blonde in a nice cheer costume approached, looking and sounding like a bratty bitch. Looks like they had a second actor to drum up the crowd. He leaned forward in his food court chair, listening to the show. I heard the blonde's wish, and realized they were trying to appeal to a certain crowd, but as a puff of blue glitter concealed the wish maker, I realized a lot of money was sunk into this. The quick change trick was done expertly, and William saw no way to hide the obnoxious, poofy costume the cheerleader now wore. The murmurs among the crowd were all he needed to see to believe this thing would rake in cash. He got up and left, chuckling at how much the blonde was flashing her big ass at everyone while she 'complained.'

When William returned and saw the genie still trapped in her box, he assumed if must have been a robot of some kind, and the cheerleader was the main performer. The genie bot probably spat some hokey fortune out, and the blonde would urge the audience to make wishes for the act's sake. He worried about the haul now, but persevered to pick the lock, easier the second time. Jean watched intently, staying still as the man did his work. A ne'er-do-well like her, she appreciated, though she suspected his karma was about to catch up with him. He swung the cash box open, and groaned aloud to the empty mall. All he found were three crisp ten dollar bills. Only two other customer's used the machine? The show must have really gone wrong or something. They were hardly worth the effort, but they sat so neatly, side by side, ready to be plucked out of their drawer. Above his downturned head, Jean leaned over expectantly.