Chapter 43: The Heist That Goes Wrong?

William George Afton prowled the mostly deserted streets of Hurricane, lugging two suitcases along. He walked with a measured step- a deliberate imitation of the relaxed gait he had observed others adopting as they left the workplace at the end of their shift, or while they conducted more informal and leisurely activities on the weekend. Stan shadowed him at a distance, keeping an eye out for potential witnesses that needed to be distracted. William patrolled the main street, seeing no sign of his quarry. He paused at a deserted intersection and thought about what he would do if he were one of the Shermans and he was trying to get rid of evidence. He smiled and turned the corner onto a side street.

William George had been navigating the maze of back streets for almost an hour when he spotted Sherman and Sherman. They were standing idle at the corner of an intersection, their suitcases resting on the ground by their feet as they had a quiet argument. Taking advantage of the distraction, William George began to stalk his quarry- as if he were a predator stalking its prey. He sidled down the shadowed side of a building and watched the two unscrupulous cons closely. He slunk as close as he dared before striking, and checked that they were still distracted. The two crooks were now having a quiet, but furious argument, their gestures showing a level of distraction their hushed tones and whispered directions couldn't. William George Afton decided that it was now or never- he had to make his move.

William George Afton sidled forwards just enough to put him within reach of the suitcases, and reached for one of them, preparing to swap his own suitcase into the place of one of the Sherman's. Just as he was about to, he heard a quiet thump against a nearby tree. George looked up from what he was doing, and briefly locked eyes with... Henry. Alarmed, George glanced at the other side of the tree, and locked eyes with... his own brother, William Usnavi. George glanced between the two- just by dumb luck, they seemed poised to ruin the whole heist- Henry was starting to shake his head, William Usnavi looked like he was about to say something- Stan arrived in the nick of time and pulled them away from the tree- by the backs of their shirt collars. As they did, William Usnavi shouted, "GEORGE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?" Sherman and Sherman jumped, turned around, and caught George seemingly red handed.

Thinking quickly, George scooped up both of his suitcases and shoved them at Sherman and Sherman, rising to his feet as the force of the suitcases crashing into their chests knocked them off their feet. They fell into the street, clutching the suitcases George had just shoved at them as he picked up their suitcases and broke into a run. Ducking around a corner, and zipping down another side street, George half expected Sherman and Sherman to be chasing after him and demanding their suitcases back. To his surprise, he only heard one set of footsteps. He jinked down an alleyway, turned around, and watched the shadow pass by. A moment later, it returned, and Stan poked his head around the corner. He glanced at William George, then glanced at something down the street, then gasped and resumed running. The two Shermans slowed to a halt right in front of the alley way, out of breath, and glanced first at the street, then down the alleyway, then down the street again. William George dropped into a crouch, hoping that they didn't see him. They appeared oblivious and out of breath. Seizing the opportunity, George lunged at Sherman and Sherman and surprised them, whacking them hard on the sides of their heads with their own suitcases. Sherman and Sherman were instantly knocked out by the sudden hard blow, collapsing onto the sidewalk. They hit their heads on the pavement as they landed, practically ensuring that they were out like lights. Satisfied, George roughly grabbed the unconscious criminals by their ankles and dragged them into the alley, hiding their bodies in the shadows before he fled the scene himself, leaving nothing but smears of blood on the pavement. He took a winding path back through the backstreets, a fast paced run slowing into a jog and then into the same casual gait he had adopted before the heist. He knew he stood a really good chance of facing legal troubles now that the heist had possibly been witnessed... and he had assaulted the very criminals whom he'd just stolen incriminating evidence from. But George was already plotting a way of pulling a Harry Houdini on karma. Although he wasn't trained in anatomy in any way, William George knew that Sherman and Sherman probably wouldn't remember those precious few minutes before or after the injury... and they'd probably be passed out for long enough that they wouldn't be waking up for the next few hours anyway. George grinned as he also thought about Stan had arrived in the nick of time... and technically prevented his pesky brother- and said brother's equally pesky husband- from witnessing the heist itself.

Back in the alley way, Sherman and Sherman woke up in a daze. Their heads hurt like crazy, and the natural light of the sky seemed brighter than it had before. They couldn't remember what had happened between their argument and waking up in an alleyway with their heads hurt and suddenly lead weight suitcases clutched in their hands. Confused, they tried to struggle to their feet and lost their balance, falling forwards onto the asphalt- hard enough to hurt their arms. Barely conscious, and hardly aware of themselves, let alone their surroundings, they started blindly crawling around the alley, trying to find something- anything that they could pull themselves up with. Both Shermans tried to pull themselves up using the same object, and accidentally broke it. It clattered to the floor. They struggled to pull themselves up using each other and failed again. Sherman and Sherman were for now- pretty much incapacitated, and had yet to discover that anything was wrong aside from their being injured and missing a few suspicious minutes... or was it hours? of their memory.