You stare blankly at the bags full of cash notes mindlessly dumped on the floor in front of you as you sit on the bed. You can feel the weight of the shotgun next to you, can hear the sounds of a pair of your fellow thieves congratulating themselves in the other room. Really though all you can see is the face of the bank teller as she was shot, her look of surprise and pain. You're proud of your record, ten robberies in half as many years without a single fatality, and now someone's gone and ruined that. The thought swirls around your head as a noisy cry floats around the partially-open door and you realize that the crew you picked don't care. They're of the new breed of criminal, without any class or appreciation for the art.
"Great haul boss!"
Sahara enters the motel apartment, carefully closing the front door behind her. There's a bottle of champagne in her hand and for a moment it confuses you, there wasn't any in the van. She takes a swig, a grin on her face as she walks past, and there's a playful squeal soon after she joins the others. You take a deep breath, the motion making your breasts strain against your top, and then stand, grabbing the shotgun at the same time.
You walk into the other room, shaking your head at all the clothes scattered around. They'd be useless if the cops came knocking but... A new thought, perhaps a celebration turned deadly will cover my tracks, enters the mix and you raise the shotgun, aiming it at Sahara's back. Her cry of passion is swiftly transformed as she takes the full force of the blast, thrown off the oversized strap-on she'd been riding. The room is still except for her twitching corpse, Beth staring at you in shock, before she pushes Sahara away and reaches for the revolver lying on the bedside table. Beneath Beth's spread thighs Jade is trying to squirm free, strap-on around her crotch wobbling obscenely, but she freezes at the feeling of the shotgun against her stomach.
"Straighten up Beth, leave that gun alone." The brunette slowly moves back to where she'd been, making Jade renew her frenzied struggling. "I'll put it in your hands later."
The image the three of you present would be a strange one to any onlooker. You could almost drop your skirt and merrily climb onto Jade's strap-on but the teller's face swims across your vision again. You angle the shotgun and lift it slightly, watching Jade's belly quivering, before pulling the trigger. She bucks as the pellets tear into her, finally dislodging Beth, and you catch a glimpse of her agonized expression before she rolls over and curls up. You look up and swing the shotgun around to aim at Beth, pumping it to reload, and as you fire again you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. Reflexively you double up, seeing a red stain slowly growing on the fabric of your top, and lift your gaze.
Beth is slumped against a wall, no spark of life left in her but the revolver in one hand, while Jade has ceased moving, just the straps of her toy breaking up a long expanse of olive skin. Sahara's body is lolling, half on the bed and half not. You wearily sit on the blood-drenched bed, pressing a hand against your wound, and let the shotgun slip from your grasp. With all the shooting it won't be long before the cops turn up and it probably wouldn't do to have a weapon in your hand. If I'm still alive. The shotgun's barrel disturbs the bottle of champagne and you reach for it, groaning as you bend and put extra pressure on your injury. It doesn't have a bad taste, although there's a little tinge of iron at the back of your throat, and you lie back, letting gravity transfer the liquid from the bottle into your mouth as you close your eyes....
Five years you've been a thief, a successful thief, always a step in the clear following each robbery until now. You still don't know which of the corpses around you shot that teller.
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