The Wedding Cake Job
A crime caper, in a bakery, with a garden hose.
“Bunnie and Sly were meant for each other. Everyone said so. Bunnie didn’t know this until later, but Sly was a master thief by the time he was 12. At 16, when he met Bunnie, nothing, and I do mean nothing, gave him greater pleasure than knowing he had pulled a fast one on some unsuspecting tourist or rich dude. He was mostly unsupervised at home, you know. He had a first name for his father (wrangled out of his mother in exchange for the dregs of a vodka bottle) but no face to match. He’d never met the guy.
“Bunnie, on the other hand, had grown up with two parents and a nanny. She was in private school until her father lost everything on a bad investment. At least, that’s the official story. She told me in confidence one night that the “bad investment” was a pony named Ghostnumberseven who apparently ran like lightning during practices, just not during races. She was kinda okay with it though, because if she hadn’t moved to public school she may never have met Sly. And like I said, everyone could see they were meant for each other. It’s funny how things work out sometimes.
“As for me, well I was brought in when Sly started knocking off convenience stores and needed a getaway driver. I was the only one with a car, you see. So, it was more a friendship of necessity rather than the stars aligning for us the way they did for him and Bunnie.
“You want to know about today? Oh, right, sure.
“So, the dress was picked up from a thrift store on 31st and Yarrow. I dunno much about that. Bunnie only took Darla with her. Said it was a girl thing, you know. I was with Bug — what’s that? Bug’s legal name? Ray something, I think. Anyway, Bug and I were on intel, you know. It was our job to scope out the bakery, this place. Get a sense of the layout and how many workers were here, and where they kept the fancy cakes. You know, the ones nice enough for a wedding.
“So we show up at the bakery, this bakery, and we go in all casual-like. I take mental notes: there’s a jingly bell over the door and 4 or 5 little round tables. Inside the counter there’s all these fancy little buns with icing. There’re swirled cupcakes, those little round things with the French name, and behind the counter on the wall are baskets full of bread loaves.
“I don’t see any big cakes, so I ask ‘can I go to the little boys’ room’ and the girl says ‘right over there’ and I realize it’s the customer one which won’t give me a chance to get in the back and look around, so I make up a story about needing absolute privacy, you know, for a medical-related situation and finally she agrees to let me use the employee washroom in the back.
“So, I go behind the counter and then I see it: the biggest, fanciest, whitest, floweriest wedding cake I’ve ever seen. As soon as I see it, I know it’s the one. Nothing else will do for Bunnie and Sly.
“Me and Bug go back out and we get Sly down there, and he hands us each a handgun and — What’s that? Well, yeah, I guess we were armed, but we didn’t mean nothing by it. Anyway, Sly gives me my gun and I don’t check to see if it’s loaded because the other two are already pulling ski masks down their faces and the door is jingling and then we’re all inside the bakery.
“‘EVERYONE DOWN ON THE FLOOR’ Sly yelled this at the other customers. They were just there to enjoy their coffee and a scone, you know. And we were just there for a wedding cake. No reason for anyone to get hurt.
“Did anyone try to stop us? Well there was one guy, customer guy, who had just come from the hardware store or something. He came in with a brand new garden hose over a shoulder and a little bucket of nails and you could just tell he was feeling all macho, you know?
“Anyway, he tried, but we couldn’t have any interference, so we tied him up with the garden hose and went about our business. What’s that? Oh, no, he wasn’t hurt at all. We were just there to get the cake.
“Anyway, once people knew we meant business, no one else tried to be a hero and things went pretty quick. We got into the back and found the cake. Problem was, it was huge. MASSIVE. Way bigger than it looked. We couldn’t carry it. We could’ve maybe carried it with all three of us, but we couldn’t fit through the door like that, you know. So, we go looking for one of those little cake cart things, like they have at fancy places with waiters and stuff.
“We finally find one and we put the goddamn massive cake on it. By this time, I’m hot and sweaty and we’ve been in the bakery way too long, so I’m about at my limit. Sly is swearing and Bug’s got his mask up above his nose just so he can breathe again, you know. So, we’re rolling to the door. We can almost taste freedom…. And then BAM! That’s when the door flew open and you guys showed up and yelled at us, you know, ‘hands on your head, put down your weapon’ and all that other stuff.
“So, I hope you can see, officer, we’re really not bad people, here. We just really wanted to get Bunnie and Sly the best cake for their wedding. They were meant for each other, you know.”
Thank you for reading! This story is a response to a NYCMidnight flash fiction contest prompt. Contestants get an assignment consisting of genre, location, and an object and have 48 hours to create a <1000 word story that fits. This is NOT my contest submission. Those can’t be shared until judging is finished, so this is my take on someone else’s assignment.
