Big Doug always said the best plans were the simplest ones. “When it comes to pulling jobs,” he’d say, “don’t get fucking cute.” Now, Big Doug was a three time loser who died face down in a pool of his own blood outside an IHOP, but I always thought his advice made good sense. When Skeeter suggested we rob the UPS Guy, I told him what Big Doug had said about keeping it simple.
“Didn’t he get shot trying to knock over an IHOP?”
“You’re missing the point,” I said. “We gotta plan, but we gotta keep it simple.”
“This shit is as simple as it gets. We know Bart gets his drugs delivered through UPS. We know he’s getting a shitload of Oxycontin from the dude out in West Virginia. It’s coming either Monday or Tuesday.”
“Okay, but ain’t there some kind of law against robbing UPS Guys?”
“You know how fucking dumb that question is?”
“There’s a law against robbing everyone, dipshit.”
“I mean like a special law. Like messing with the mail.” Skeeter thought about that a second while he sipped on a cup of Evan Williams and Mountain Dew. “I don’t think it’s the same thing.”
“Why don’t we just rob Bart? I mean, he ain’t gonna call the police and say his five pounds of hillbilly heroin got ripped off is he?”
Skeeter sat up. “I’m glad you asked. No, he won’t call the cops. But Bart’s got a fucking gun, and Bart will kill our asses without thinking about it. So, a) we avoid a possible gunfight, and b) we avoid the possibility of Bart going, ‘Skeeter, that you in the ski-mask?’ Cause if he finds out we robbed him, he will blow our brains out.”
I thought about that a while. “Where the fuck are we going to get ski masks in Arkansas in August?”
We ended up using some Jason and Freddy masks Skeeter had left over from the opening weekend of Jason Vs. Freddy. He wore the Freddy mask because he was going to do the talking. I wore the Jason mask because I was strong and silent. At least that’s what Skeeter said. I think he just didn’t want me to start talking and fuck things up.
Big Doug would have liked the plan:
The UPS dude would pull up and park his truck on the street. He had to walk down a long alley, turn a corner and then climb some stairs to get to Bart’s apartment.
I would wait under the stairs. Skeeter would be out front. When UPS Guy showed up, he’d call me and tell me if it was Go or Abort. If it was Go, he’d follow UPS Guy down the alley. I’d come around the corner and we’d get the shit, tell the dude to lay on the ground, and then we’d haul ass to the car. Done deal.
When the day came, I stood under those stairs for a long ass time. We didn’t know when UPS Guy would get there, so I stood there needing to piss for three fucking hours. Skeeter was out front in a car with a radio and air conditioning, while I was standing there holding my piss and a Jason mask. When I couldn’t bunch up my bladder any more, I unzipped and took a leak.
That’s when Skeeter called. I pissed on my hands trying to stuff everything back in and take out my cell phone at the same time.
“Go!” he shouted into the phone. I could tell he was mad I’d taken so long to answer.
I yanked on the Jason mask. It was a cheap plastic hockey mask with fake blood and shit on it. I ran down the alley and turned the corner just before the UPS Guy did. He was a tall, lean black dude with the little UPS shorts, button up shirt, and trucker cap. He was lugging a big ass box.
Skeeter was right behind him in the Freddy mask. “Hold it, motherfucker!” Skeeter shouted. He had a gun.
UPS Guy dropped the box. Skeeter moved up to him to push him to the ground, but UPS Guy chopped the gun out of his hand, stepped back and roundhouse-kicked the Freddy mask right off his face. It was some Jason Bourne shit to see.
The next thing I saw was some knuckles. Then I was on the ground. My nose was broken, and I was spitting out bloody pieces of plastic.
I figured it was time to get the fuck out of Dodge, so I started trying to get to my feet, but then Bart showed up, and everything really went to hell.
He had a gun in his hand. When Skeeter tried to grab his own piece, Bart blew his brains out. He kicked me in the face.
UPS Guy said, “What now, Bart?”
I guess that meant that they were in business together. Well, I thought, we certainly hadn’t figured on that. Bart pulled off my mask. “Little Doug?” he said. He shrugged, pointed the gun at me and said, “Like father like son.”