In Your Dreams, Dipshit

Chapter 1 - Dopey & Frowny

Audra stood in a line in front of a banking till, patiently waiting for her turn to talk to a broker. 

The main area of Gotham City Bank was long and spacious. On one end of the hall, a series of standing tills were embedded in the wall. And a couple meters away, in the near center of the space, were a series of desks and chairs. The flow of the room allowed for a big walkway to either side of this row. On the other side of the long hall, past the free-standing glass walled offices of bank officials, a couple fluffy couches were set to provide a more comfortable seating area for longer financial advisory meetings.

Audra rubbed her eyes tiredly, soaking in the placid mood of the place. Sibilant voices rumbled in conversation, old chairs groaned, and one could hear the occasional squeak of a shoe against the tiles floor. Bankers were bent diligently over spreadsheets or were engaged in dutifully helping clients.

Normally, Audra would have made use the bank's online banking options to withdraw cash, but that was only for the occasional grocery run. The old bank had only recently set up it's sometimes faulty online systems, and it was always good to have some cash on hand anyways. 

So, there she stood, calmly waiting for her turn at one of the standing tills. Pulling up the top of her flip-phone, she checked the time-- 5:45. Friday July 2, 2008, to be precise. Almost closing time.

"Next," the bespectacled broker said, staring dully at Audra's forehead.

Flipping her waist-length auburn hair over her shoulder and stepping up the the till, she cocked her head to meet his gaze and smiled sympathetically. He lent exhaustedly against the desk, absently fiddling with a ballpoint pen.

"Long day?" She asked.

"You have no idea," He shook his head glumly and rolling his eyes, a small light returning to his gaze. "What can I do for you today?"

"I need to make a withdrawal from my account. Could yo--" She was cut off suddenly by the sound of gunfire echoing around the large foyer. Screams erupted around her as everyone, including her, dropped to the floor or dove beneath the desks for cover.

She found herself huddled against the left-most of the mahogany banking desks, her back flush against it's solid side. Three guys whisked in, their identities obscured by clown masks, guns clutched defenselessly at their hips as they quickly shuffled across the tiled floor.

"Alright everybody! Hands up, heads down!" The foremost clown yelled, his harsh holler tinged with a Brooklyn accent. The dopey grin plastered across his plastic mask seemed taunting as the group advanced toward the people attempting to take cover.

The robbers split up, one clown tackling the startled security guard, another hoisting his duffel bag onto a desk to rifle through it's contents, and the last stomped forward to yank her bespectacled acquaintance over the counter and send him sprawling on the floor with a quick quip. 

Audra clasped her hands together and dug her fingernails into her wrist to keep from yelping in fear. 

"Let's go pal. I'm making a withdrawal here!" He didn't spare a glance at the man before he was advanced upon the next till.

Stand strong, Audra's dad's mantra flittered through her mind

"I said hands up!" He accused the lady broker. She flung her hands up high above her, cheeks paling as she tried to back up.

"No!" She cried. "Please don't--" He threw her on the floor anyhow, jamming the gun in her face as he gripped her collar.

Her attention was diverted by the clown with the duffel bag. He was darting around, shoving something into peoples hands. She frowned, still hiding her terror best she could, as he skidded to a stop in of her and handed her one of the objects. A grenade? Why did he just gave her a weapon? What di-- oh.