The Midnight Hour

The thieves.

The contraband.

The Getaway Vehicle ----->>

"The night was dark and scary (because that's how all nights are when you are doing something creepy), the truck shuddered and shook over the ragged road, and the masked (well, hooded) villains felt a marrow-deep fear lest they should be discovered..."

So begins the saga of "The Midnight Hour" - a short story about two very tired, slap-happy, amateur thieves yearning to regain the longed-for possession: the photos accidentally left in the CVE office that had to reach their destination the next morning.

12:15 a.m. It was time to act.

"I forgot the photos."
"Crum... me too."
"Well... [pause for a minute] maybe we should go get them."
"Go back to CVE... tonight???"
"Well... I can't really think of another option."
"True... double crum."

Stealthily climbing into our getaway vehicle (dressed in probably the coolest outfits you will ever see... or... not see, in this case), we hurried to our destination, barely missing the yawning pit of newly laid cement as we "careened down a raging river of death" a.k.a. the almost completely empty road to CVE (props to The Emperor's New Groove - which a friend who watches television told me was really good... =P), and in a scattering of dust and gravel jumped over the railroad tracks to find the darkened gates touting "Casa Vida y Esperanza" looming and towering over us in the dim, flickering headlights.

Silently shutting off the getaway vehicle [it really only spluttered once], we crept toward the gate, and with a rusty creak the "lock" gave... swinging outward with nary a sound.

"Okay... this way."
"The stars are really nice."
"Shhhh... we're on a mission."

Threading our way through the ankle-deep gravel pits in the entrance, we wove in and out of the shadows, hiding our faces from the moon's baleful gaze, until we reached the office.

Wrong key.
Try again.
Okay... yes!

The door swung inward... and creeping across the room, the shortest and... do I dare say "most graceful"???... of the would-be thieves managed to fall over a chair... not kidding, this did happen. It almost jeopardized the entire mission.

But... a quick recovery, followed by the risking of life and limb to have the contraband photos in hand, and we were out the door which closed silently behind us... a party to our secrets.

Quickly now back across the yard (imitating Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief... which another friend told me was really good... lol), skulking and looking over our shoulders (and hence running feet-first into the potted plants obviously put there to hinder professionals like us)... and finally clambering into our vehicle to make the getaway.

Slight problem.

We backed into the only hole visible next to the railroad tracks for 500 ft., and almost had to push ourselves out until "da hood" gave a surprising lurch, kick, spin of the tires, and whipped around to sail over the tracks and into the dark beyond.

Never to be seen again.

Infamous in its absolute anonymity.

p.s. (The two thieves, buoyed by success, have decided to make this an alternate career... so if you have something that needs stealing... give us a call. Their motto? "They forsake it, we take it." Surely only professionals have an actual motto...)

p.s.s. (I would like to add that the events in this story have been exaggerated slightly... but only slightly... =P)