The Heist

by Leila Farhat

The room was dark, save for a single light that shone overhead. Echoes of quacks, honks, chirps, and other various noises about giving a local restaurant a low review could be heard throughout. Four puffy waterfowl stood by a metal table, every inch of its surface covered in papers, pictures and red string. “Alright, listen up- ‘cus I’m not gonna say it more than once,” a feminine, yet sassy voice spoke up, reducing the other four to silence. A cream white wing slapped a file onto the table, causing a slight shuddering to the table. “This is the bank we’re gonna rob of its goods.” She opened the file, revealing pictures of a small, local bank. The voice edged closer to the light, until the face of a domestic duck was illuminated, her black spot on her head looking almost like a crown.

The duck grinned- as best a duck could- with malice. She had been planning this heist for over a year, and the wait was finally over. “Are we going to give it back when we’re done, Mama Fluttershy? Because sharing is caring!” A Chinese goose chirped, cocking his head to the side. “Of course, my son.” Fluttershy lied. The goose was a sweet little boy, who always looked up to Fluttershy as a mother figure, despite being twice her size. The duck didn’t approve of his master teaching him to be “nice”, however.

She looked back at her plans and continues to detail her plan.

“Darkfeather, I need you to make sure the coast is clear before we move in. Bob, Dave, you’re the demolition experts, and I need you to place the charges here, here, and here”, she says, pointing at the drainpipes underneath the bank, the Indian Runner and Pekin nodding. “And finally,” she says as she turns to the goose, “George, you’re in charge of the disguises. And yes, you can use the puppet socks.”, to which the goose chirped in happiness.“Anyways…”

Fluttershy started, pointing her wings at her fellow waterfowl friends. “We can’t waste any more time! Everyone, into their heist cars!” She honked, expecting no defiance. “What about the cookies?” Dave whined, reaching out to grab one. She hissed and threatened to bite him. “No cookies! Cookies are for closures!” The other pekin huffed but waddled off without a word, his head hanging low. Fluttershy, on the other hand, snatched a cookie anyway before following.

Fluttershy’s light pitter-patters from her webbed feet echoed off the narrow halls as she treaded onward to the garage, smiling to herself. It almost felt surreal, the pride she felt as she edged closer to thousands of victories. If this heist went well, she could have everything she had ever dreamed of.

“Fluttershy,” Darkfeather called out in front of the garage door, making her lose her train of thought. “We’re ready.” That statement made her eyes glint dangerously. “Excellent,” She waddled past him and pushed open the door.

Inside, three cars gleamed in the bad lighting as if they were brand new. The smell of gasoline and nitrous filled her lungs as she breathed the air. It smelled of danger. She liked danger.

In reality, they were just those baby cars that run on cheap batteries, yet that didn’t matter. She regarded her team as they sat in their vehicles, prepared. The two brothers Bob and Dave sat in a little fire truck, with the pudgy Dave at the wheel. Darkfeather mounted, with much difficulty, into his mini Batmobile, before wagging his tailfeathers in excitement. George gleefully waited in the passenger seat of Fluttershy’s duck-scaled replica of the Mystery

Machine, as the femme fatale leader hopped in and started the car. With that, they were off to start another adventure full of crimes and cookies. 

They had arrived 6 minutes ahead of schedule, because Fluttershy always took into account the time it would take for the firetruck brothers to come here. Why didn’t they choose a faster vehicle was beyond her, but at least they were here. A quick snack break later, the plan was already set in motion. Bob and Dave hopped into the pipe entrance to place the explosives, while George happily waddled into the bank. Darkfeather and Fluttershy arm themselves with their weapons before grabbing the explosive trigger. “Can I push the button, Fluttershy? Pretty please!”, Darkfeather begs. “You can push the button,” as she looks at the trigger, and back at Darkfeather, who beams. “But you may not.”, she finishes, smirking, much to the disappointment of the Mallard, who deadpans. Fluttershy looks at her watch, which had started beeping, and puts on her disguise sock, which was covered in red hearts. “Time to lock and load”, she says, while cocking her shotgun. Bob and Dave climb out of the drainpipe, and Fluttershy pushes the button, with a blast sound going off and a rumble accompanying it. Slamming the door open, the crew waddle inside the now confetti filled bank, with people lying on the ground, either unconscious or groaning in pain. The goose, naturally, was unharmed, because he was nowhere near where the explosion had been and was cheerily playing with the confetti around him. Marching in, they all focus on the manager, who was the first to get up, though still holding her head. Opening her eyes, she sees the shotgun pointed right at her face, and looks at the fat duck wielding it. “W-what do you want?!” she screamed, not knowing how to react to a duck holding her at gunpoint. “The good stuff, in this bag”, Fluttershy says, while tossing over a ragged looking sac. “And no nonsense, or I’ll have to pull a Madonna on you”, the duck adds. The manager slowly goes to put money in the bag when the fat and fluffy leader honks loudly. “Nooo! Not that, you idiot! The valuables!” she yells, clearly annoyed at her “incompetence”. Confused, the manager asks “Then what do you want? Diamonds? Gold?” The duck groans, muttering a few slurs that sounded a little like something out of a kid’s cartoon, before looking dead center at the manager, before pointing at the bowl of candy on the desk. Looking even more confused, the manager looks at the bowl, and back at the duck. “The candy?”, she asks, hoping she didn’t misinterpret the duck. Fluttershy nods her head, visibly annoyed. The manager gives her the bowl of sweets, which she swipes away, turning to her companions. She lets them pick a piece of candy each, even smacking Darkfeather’s wing when he takes two pieces rather than one, and she keeps the Snickers bar for herself. George, the silly goose he is, could not lick the lollipop he had chosen, because he had accidentally put his disguise sock on backwards. The crew waddle to the exit, but the goose turns around with a smile. With his wings spread, he cheers “Happy Halloween!” even though it was the middle of June, before going back to his friends. They all get in their mini cars and drive off into the sunset. 

The security guard finally wakes up and gets his gun ready. “What in the world happened?!”, he yells at the manager, who was still bewildered over the whole thing. “A bunch of ducks took our candy.”, she finally says, before sitting down and laughing.