The plan commences

The great Eastern philosopher Kǒng Qiū, known in contemporary circles as Confuscius, once said "A man who does not plan long ahead will find trouble at his door.”

Wide words to live by, you soon realize. You're not sure what Confuscius envisioned as "trouble at his door", but it likely wasn't Ben showing up forty-five minutes late, a little drunk and with a trio of awful Halloween masks.

"What in the name of fuck is this, Ben?" Lukas asks.

"Masks. So we don't get caught on the security cameras, obviously."

"No, I get that. I was sort of envisioning ski masks. Not..."

Lukas holds up one of the masks, a rubber pigeon mask with eyeholes in the nose.

"Don't worry, that one's mine!" Ben grins.

"What the fuck is this one?" you ask, pointing to a bad silicon mask of some eyepatched, melted face dude with a gross rendition of a beard.

"That's Kurt Russell. You know, from Escape from New York," Ben says. "Good movie."

"And is this a sex mask, Ben?" Daniel asks, pointing to the hairy Furry wolf mask sitting on the desk.

"Sex mask? What? It's a werewolf."

"It's not, Ben," Daniel says. "It looks like a furry mask. I think I can see cum in its fur."

"That's just beer foam! I had a few brewskis with a girl from French class over this! I'm letting her look at the exams in exchange for some favours."

"Jesus Christ, Ben, don't tell people what we're planning! You never know who'll rat us out!" Daniel complains.

"I call Kurt Russel," Lukas quickly says, grabbing the plastic one.

"Fuck," you complain. "This is already going to shit. Are we sure about this?"

"I wouldn't be, if I was ye," Daniel says, lighting a joint as he leans out the window.

"Fuck it, just tell us the plan, Lukas," you shrug.