Letter to the Sheriff
People think we are just wicked and mean,
But we are desperate.
We have never seen anything come our way.
People think we are lazy and we cannot shoulder hard work,
Nor long cold hours staring at a moving screen.
Clearly they have never planned a coup.
I have been sitting by this house for days,
Trying to establish a pattern, a routine of some kind,
But there is nothing predictable about these guys.
I feel like I am wasting my time.
This short will never happen. We are lacking data,
And manpower to make sure it is safe.
There is always a risk. The key is to minimize it.
The best guys in the business
Hell, the best in history are born planners.
Jeremy is the planner. I am the gatherer.
I collect information. Nobody notices me. Ever.
I am a short brunette, with a plump ass, and large, thick glasses.
They hide my only asset. Dark green eyes.
They sparkle when I smile.
That is how he fell for me, all these years ago.
We have robbed more houses than I can count.
Nobody would ever suspect us.
We are the sweetest, most unremarkable couple.
Each time, we buy a house in a quiet wealthy neighborhood.
We invite our new entourage to our place. Plan a few parties.
Become close mates with our targets.
They let us in. Jeremy plants his bugs, and with them,
The seeds to our departure. He effortlessly seduces the lady of house.
Then he fake-cheats on me openly with her.
I fake-catch them and make a fuss out of it.
We fake-leave our separate ways.
Jeremy doesn’t even say goodbye to the lady and fake-runs after me.
We move out. Our accomplices come back one night,
When the filthy rich owners are away.
They rob them blind.
Everything is very discreet nowadays.
We don’t need a truck or anything visible.
All you need is codes and eyes.
Codes to gain access into the house.
Hidden cameras in just the right spots to get the numbers.
We plant them. They get the money transferred. And remove them.
Sometimes their security is so bad, we just have to bug them
Take control from a distance and remove the bugs.
Grand theft has become that easy.
All you have got to trade in is your conscience.
Good thing we were not raised with any set of rules.
My favorite tale has always been that of the Hood.
Take from the rich and give to the poor.
Mostly their insurances pay them back anyway.
So, what is the harm?
We are not evil. We are mere shadows,
Trying to exist in the most exciting way we know,
Ever moving, alluring cash predators.
Nobody has caught up with our schemes yet.
I.T.I. is our code name.
It stands for Investment, Trust & Intelligence.
You can’t just swing our swag. Our style is unique.
Our species limited. Four people know of our existence,
And they are even less visible than we are.
Good luck identifying us, Sheriff. We know the hunt is now open.
We welcome the challenge and the added thrills.
Show your competence, or resign to stride in our shadow,
Jeremy and Don