Two stocking-masked, gun-toting idiots burst into the lobby of the Town House Motel in Belleville, Ill., and loudly demanded everybody’s money. Several employees and guests burst out laughing and wouldn’t stop. As their audience cracked up, the crooks tried reminding them that, hey, this is a robbery, and it’s like, you know, serious.
It didn’t work. The laughter continued. The crooks finally fled, penniless and humiliated. Later, the would-be victims explained that the crooks just kinda looked, well, stupid. And besides, who ever heard of pulling a robbery in a motel lobby?
.Life Imitates Art
Being a fugitive wanted for robbery didn’t keep 33-year-old Mary Annette Cole from going to the movies and catching a good flick. But considering the movie she was watching, she might have anticipated a police dragnet was tightening around her. Sure enough, those guys with flashlights who suddenly appeared and dragged her out of the theater weren’t ushers — they were Tulsa, Okla., cops.
Mary was watching “The Fugitive.” Maybe she should have opted for “Breaking Away.”
Devil’s In The Details
In cop-work and crook-work, you just gotta plan for all the little details. And if your operation depends on having a working motor vehicle at your disposal, you might want to pay attention to where your ignition keys are.
Our hero, an unnamed youthful dirtbag, scurried nervously into a convenience store in Portland, Ore., pulled a knife, and demanded the contents of the till. Following company policy, the cashier dutifully filled a paper bag with cash, handed it over, then reached for the phone as rag-man gleefully exited the front door.
The clerk started to punch 911, then observed — what’s this?— the suspect’s car keys on the counter! He flipped ’em into a bin, then made his call to the police.
A few seconds later, a very distraught rag-man re-entered the store, wondering if, uh, anybody seen my car keys? Could I have ’em back, maybe?
The clerk refused. Rag-man then offered to trade the bag of cash for the keys. Nope, that’s not how we play the game, the cashier patiently explained, and reminded rag-man the cops were on the way.
He left, dejected, and still not very bright. When officers arrived they found him outside on the pay phone, trying to report his van stolen.
Speak Of The Devil
Okay, so this one doesn’t have anything to do with guns or shooting, but, oh boy, does it remind you what kind of people — in what sort of condition — are out there on the road with you.
After a four-car pile-up on the Santa Ana Freeway in California, one of the nation’s busiest, the driver of the “at-fault” vehicle told officers, “I was just driving along when the car started to shake and glow, like it was possessed. It started going about a 100 mph when it just took over and crashed.”
The CHPs were a bit skeptical about this story — they don’t get too many verified incidents involving possessed cars — and asked the driver if he had any idea why the car might have undergone this supernatural phenomenon. Nope, he replied, he had just “… been testing cocaine all afternoon for Satan.” It took three officers to get the devil’s dope-tester into handcuffs.
