The pigeon mask was a new low, even by Mickey's standards. He was hoping for something cool, like a Ghostface mask. Mickey fuckin' loves that movie! But no, a goddamn pigeon was the best option he could find in the middle of July. Not everyone who buys a mask buys it for Halloween, he's half tempted to write a letter to the owner of the company. Some of us need masks to rob shitty convenience stores in July, duh! Mickey can't even see through the holes, he's going to be robbing blind. Hey, rob you blind! Maybe he'll make that his new catch phrase seen as in he can't see shit in this stupid thing.

"Put your fuckin' hands up!" Mickey literally can't even see if he's talking to anyone, let alone pointing the pistol in the right direction. A roll around of his head and he can just about make out a set of hands in the air. Success! He's so good at this he doesn't even need his eyes. Stupid mask. "Gimme everything in the register, now!" He mutters, scrambling his way to the desk as he slams down his empty bag. Definitely didn't trip over something on the floor on his way. (He did). "Don't fuckin' laugh at me, or- or- I'll shoot you, dammit!" He slams his fist onto the desk, as he attempts to see what's going on.

"Mickey, is that you behind that stupid thing?" Wait. He knows that voice. No way! He scrambles with his mask, pulling it off of his face. A stupid, goofy grin on his face as he looks at you behind the counter. "You fuckin' idiot." You laugh, seeing your high school boyfriend stood in front of you.

"Hey- hey, hey- I'm not an idiot," Mickey's half sulking at his point, leaning on the counter to get a proper look at you. An eye roll from you causes him to snap out of his daydream. "Um, do you- Could you- Babe. Mind fillin' up the bag?" He all but bats his lashes at you, leaning on his palm as he looks up at you. "Then, you know, we could go have some fun and catch up with the cash?" There's that stupid smirk, the signature wink you used to melt over back in high school.