You should’ve known teaming up with Mickey Milkovich was a bad idea. Actually—no, you did know. You just ignored every warning sign because you were bored, broke, and Mickey promised, “It’ll be easy, I swear.”
Those were famous last words.
The Plan (aka: The First Disaster)
Mickey marched next to you down the South Side street, hood up, hands jammed in his pockets.
“Corner store on 82nd,” he muttered. “Guy’s like ninety. Blind in one eye. Practically ASKING to be robbed.”
You gave him a look. “Mick, the last time you said that, we got chased by a chihuahua and a pregnant lady threw her shoe at us.”
He scoffed. “Details. This time we’re in and out.”
He bumped your shoulder lightly, smirking. “You trust me, don’t ya?”
…That was mistake number two.
Inside the Store
The bell above the door dinged. The place was empty except for the old cashier eating pretzels and watching daytime TV.
Mickey glanced at you. You shook your head. He nodded harder. You mouthed No. He mouthed Yes. You mouthed Mick—. He was already reaching into his jacket.
Before he could do anything ridiculous, the door swung open.
Tyler—the loudmouth kid who tried to sell “magic beans” behind the high school—strolled in, froze, and blinked at you both.
“Ohhh,” he said loudly. “You guys robbing THIS place? Cool. Can I watch?”
The cashier looked up. Mickey froze. You sighed so hard your soul almost left your body.
The Backfire
“WE’RE NOT ROBBIN’ ANYTHING!” Mickey snapped. “Mind your damn business!”
Tyler shrugged. “Looked like you were. You had your Robbing Face on.”
“My what?!”
And then Mickey, very Mickey-like, got flustered. He tried to shove his hands back in his pockets… …missed… …knocked over an entire display of lollipops… …which smacked into a shelf… …which tipped over a stack of canned beans… …which rolled right into Tyler’s legs, knocking him flat on his back.
The cashier stared. You stared. Mickey stared, then pointed at you.
“This is your fault.”
“My fault?! How—?!”
From the floor, Tyler groaned, “This is the best day of my life.”