THE BUNGLING BANDIT OF BROOKSVILLE
In the small, sleepy town of Brooksville, where the most exciting event of the week was the arrival of the donut truck at the local diner, a notorious—though entirely harmless—robber had made quite the name for himself. His name was Louie "Two-Shoes" McGuffin, a title he proudly earned not for being light on his feet but for perpetually tripping over them.
Louie wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t steal because he needed the money. In fact, he didn’t even steal valuable things. For Louie, robbery was more of a... hobby. A poorly executed hobby, at that.
His latest plan? To “rob” the Brooksville General Store, which was owned by Mr. Jenkins, a cranky but lovable man who had seen all of Louie’s antics before. Louie strutted into the store one sunny Tuesday morning wearing a ski mask that still had the price tag dangling from the top.
“Alright, Jenkins, hand over the cash!” Louie shouted, pointing his finger like it was a pistol.
Mr. Jenkins didn’t even flinch. He squinted at Louie and leaned forward on the counter. “Louie, is that you? You forgot to cut the tag off again.”
“No, it’s not me! I’m… uh… the Shadow Phantom!” Louie said, adjusting his mask. But as he stepped forward to emphasize his point, his shoelace caught on the corner of the candy display, and he went down like a sack of potatoes, spilling lollipops everywhere.
“Smooth,” Mr. Jenkins deadpanned.
Louie scrambled to his feet, brushing off candy wrappers. “You just wait! I’m gonna—wait, where’s my bag?” He looked around, then smacked his forehead. He’d left the burlap sack he’d brought for loot sitting outside on the bench.
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“Looking for this?” Mr. Jenkins asked, holding up the bag. “You dropped it when you tripped over the flower pot earlier. Clara from next door brought it in.”
Louie snatched the bag, but as he tried to look menacing, the sound of jingling coins gave him away.
“Is that… is that coins?” Jenkins asked.
Louie sighed. “It’s laundry money. I forgot to take it out before I came here.”
At that exact moment, the local sheriff, Betty Lou, walked in. She was carrying a fresh batch of donuts, and when she saw Louie in his mask, she didn’t even hesitate.
“Louie,” she said, biting into a jelly donut, “are you trying to rob Jenkins again?”
“No!” Louie exclaimed, then added sheepishly, “Well, yes, but it’s not what it looks like.”
Sheriff Betty Lou raised an eyebrow. “Not what it looks like? You’re wearing a mask, holding a bag, and standing in front of a cash register.”
Louie groaned. “Fine. It’s exactly what it looks like.”
Betty Lou put down her donut and wagged a finger at him. “Louie, you know better. You’ve got a whole town rooting for you to get a real hobby. Why don’t you try knitting or, I don’t know, bird watching?”
Louie sighed, taking off his mask. “I thought about that, but I’m allergic to wool and birds creep me out.”
“Well,” Betty Lou said, dusting off her hands, “how about you help Jenkins clean up the candy you spilled, and I’ll pretend this little robbery never happened?”
Louie nodded, defeated. “Deal.”
And so, the comedic robber of Brooksville ended his latest escapade, sweeping up lollipops while Jenkins chuckled and handed him a soda.
From that day on, Louie decided to channel his energy into something productive: organizing a comedy night at the diner. He figured if he couldn’t rob a store without tripping over himself, he might as well make people laugh about it.
Turns out, Louie was a natural on stage.
Brooksville never saw another robbery attempt, but they did gain the funniest stand-up comic this side of the county.