Bad Guys. Good Guys. Both.

Man holds the bad guys back.

“This is your last chance," Eddie said. His voice, though not loud, seemed to echo off the cement floor of my dimly lit garage.

“You know something weird?" I asked. "I was going to say that exact same thing to you.”

He looked at me, then sideways at the four thugs with him. The thugs were youngsters, kids from the street, here to make their bones, and they stood in a row next to Eddie, lined up, their jeans low on their hips, dazzling white sneakers, kicks, whatever the kids call them now, and they began to laugh, chuckle really, and then Eddie began to laugh, and then all of us were laughing; me included.

The laughter stopped when I showed them the little plastic box with the flashing red light. I held it up. The look on their faces… I mean… the look on their faces! All eyes were on me, focused. They didn’t look scared exactly, but they didn’t look quite so amused any longer either.

They turned their attention to Eddie and then to each other, and then back to me.

“Feeling a bit underpaid, fellas? Maybe now would be a good time to ask for a raise.”

They all held .38s trained on my forehead. Eddie held his gun in the normal way. Three of the thugs had their guns turned sideways. One guy went back and forth, sideways then back to normal, and it was this guy who walked forward, holding his gun two-handed now, his arms out straight ahead.

He said, “Where’s the money?”

“You boys can head out the back way, through the kitchen.”

“You trying to be funny?” Eddie asked.

“Go now!” I said and stepped aside.

The four thugs looked at me, then ran past me, up the steps to the kitchen.

I pressed the button and my garage door opened. Red and blue flashing police lights lit up my garage. Eddie stood frozen.

“Surprise!” I said.