Cyril walked away from Artik and the StarBucks on the corner. In all honesty he had no problem with stealing the gi. Artik was a good man and there was a reason behind the madness, of that he was sure. The only problem was, he had no idea who the guard was, where the Museum of Martial Arts was, nor the type of obstacles he might encounter. There could be guard dogs, there could be lasers, and they might not even have the gi on display. All he knew was there was a man guarding it and that he would have to get past him- one way or another. “Well, first things first,” Cyril muttered to himself, “Where the hell is this place?” Cyril looked up from the sidewalk and looked around examining the faces around him. He tapped a man with blonde hair, looked to be middle-aged, “Excuse me sir,” Cyril began,
“Sorry bud, I don’t have any spare change,” the man brushed him off and went on his way. Cyril was a bit taken aback. Why would he think he needed spare change? Cyril looked down at himself. I do look a bit shabby Cyril thought. Cyril rubbed his chin and made a mental note to clean up some time. Cyril tapped on the shoulder of a passing woman. “Excuse me,” Cyril purred in his most amiable tone. This time the person stopped
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if you could point me in the general direction of the Museum of Martial Arts?”
“Of course,” the lady smiled, “Just go down Main Street . . .”
“Thank you!” Cyril went along the route the lady had shown him and soon found himself at the MOMA. Cyril walked inside casually and found the gi on central display near the door. That made things easy. He saw what appeared to be a stereotypical depiction of a black martial arts master. Cyril wondered how he walked around looking like that. Cyril rocked on his heels and considered his options. He went through a number of plans ranging from simply taking it by force to very convoluted plans that included him acquiring the tail of a goat and two professional dancers. In the end Cyril decided to play the long game. If someone as expensive as Bushido Brown (he had asked another security guard about him. He was surprisingly forth coming) was hired then someone was obviously just on the verge of stealing it. Cyril would just swoop in while they were fighting and grab it. Cyril walked back out and stayed out of sight until about 10:00pm before a small group of people busted through the door (he presumed this was the rival gang the guard had mentioned) and sounds of a fight emanated from inside. Cyril waited just a few seconds went in through the back, easily picking the lock. He withdrew a towel from underneath his hat and spread it out above him so cameras wouldn’t see his face. Cyril came in behind them, took the gi and left. What a simple matter.
Word Count: 513
