It was 80
degrees in the shade. A man wearing a heavy army jacket, a pullover wool cap,
and dark sunglasses walked into the First American Bank at the corner of Maple
and Main streets in downtown Short Beach.
The man
walked up to the teller and held up a hand grenade for all to see. He said,
“Give me all your money, all the money in this bank, right now!”
Everyone in
the lobby screamed and started running, even the security guard. Nervously, the
young female teller handed the man three big bags loaded with cash. He walked
out the door. A second later, one of the money bags exploded, covering him with
red dye. He yelled in pain and surprise, and started pacing around in circles
because he couldn't see where he was going.
He couldn’t
see, but he could hear. He heard the police siren get closer. Then he heard the
police tell him to get down on his stomach on the sidewalk and put his hands
behind his back. They handcuffed him and placed him in the back of the police
car.
Seeing the
hand grenade on the sidewalk, the police told everyone to get back. They sealed
off the whole block and called the bomb squad. The bomb squad came and examined
the hand grenade. Then they laughed. They told the police it was a fake. The
hand grenade was actually a harmless dummy, something a 12-year-old might play
with.
The police
chuckled. The bank employees returned to work. The bank customers returned to
their lines. The bank robber, hopefully, would never return.
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