Larceny and Bacon
By J. L. Young

A couple entered an empty diner. They passed a sign which read ‘please seat yourself,’ and they did. A young woman behind a counter cleaned her hands and dried them before she poured some cold water and took to the side of the couple’s table. She rested a pair of menus in front of them, “Hi, I’m Marissa. Take your time. Just holler when you’re ready.”

“I think I know what I want,” the man said while stroking his beard.

Marissa slipped a pencil and a pad from the pouch tied around her waist and licked the lead.

“I’ll have eggs, coffee, and bacon. Oh, and make the eggs runny, please.”

“And the lady?”

She exposed the barrel of a pistol from beneath her jacket, “I’ll take whatever is in the register and the safe.”

The man’s hand fell to the table, “You couldn’t have waited until after breakfast, could you, honey?”

She didn’t take her eyes off Marissa, “The money!” She scoffed as they moved to the cash register, “For once, I’d like them to jump to and get the cash without me repeating it.”

“You know that’s not going to happen,” he said as he slipped a small revolver from his waistband.

“I know. But still, wouldn’t it be nice, though?”

“Yep, it would be, honey,” he breathed as he slipped from the booth and moved to the kitchen door. He peered through the window and saw the kitchen empty. “Where’s the cook?”

“Answer him!” she ordered the server.

“Ah… he could be out having a smoke. We’ve been dead all day.”

“You’re gonna be dead for eternity if you don’t hurry up with the cash, there girly.”

The man pushed the kitchen door open and cautiously entered, moved through the room, and opened the walk-in, it was empty. He kicked open the back door. There was no one there enjoying a smoke or waiting to pounce. He reached the swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining room, “There’s nobody back here, he must of ru….” He stood motionless, his revolver aimed toward the man behind his accomplice. The man wore a hairnet and apron and held a military-style knife to his companion’s throat.

“Drop the gun,” the cook said softly. The thief did as ordered. “Now, gently kick it over to Marissa.” Again the crook obeyed. “There’s a way this works out in your favor, you leave and never come back.”

“And the other way?” the thief asked.

“I don’t think you’d like the other way. It involves a mess I really don’t want to clean up. Let’s let your ‘honey’ make the decision. What will it be, ‘honey?’”

“We’ll go,” she said while trying not to increase the knife’s pressure on her throat.

“You heard the lady. Start walking,” the cook nodded toward the door.

“Alright, alright,” the thief shifted and moved in the ordered direction. The cook pulled the knife away and pushed ‘honey.’

The cook locked the door behind them. “Marissa, grab your jacket, get into the walk-in, and get behind the kegs.”

“They’re leaving, Dante.”

“I hope you’re right, but humor me.”

Marissa picked up the gun from the counter and popped the magazine, “I have as much a right to defend this diner as you, remember fifty/ fifty.” She slid the magazine back into the frame. Dante collected the revolver, opened the cylinder, saw it fully loaded, and closed it.

Outside, the woman huffed, “Get in the car, Jagger. Whatever cash they have in there, it’s not worth it.”

“He held a knife to your neck, Sadie, they’re going to die. He removed a shotgun from the back seat.

“No,” she grabbed the barrel of the shotgun. “I didn’t hear him come in, he’s ex-military or a fucking ninja,” she attempted to be the voice of reason.

“It’s the principle of the thing, honey. Besides, those guns can trace us back to the job in Texas. That’s the death penalty.”

“Walking in there is courting death.”

Jagger pushed open the door and let it shut by its own weight.

“You dumb son-of-a-bitch,” Sadie muttered as she reached into the back seat, withdrew a large caliber pistol, and pushed open the door.