Just his luck.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 - 𝐘𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧.

It was late at night. After a while of arguing around the bathroom sink, the father and son had gone to sleep, along with the mother. Andez and Marco, though, were laid on the cold, hard, kitchen tiling.

"Psst? Andyyy?"

"It's Andez."

"Whatever. Let's just get the money and get outta here. Well take about.. 500. Then, we'll have $1 to go with the $9999 for the hotel, and then we can use the remaining $499 to gamble and increase profits, then we can save up to fix the damages on your house."

Hm. That's probably the smartest thing you've said today. But what if we lose the gamble?"

"I know cheats."

"You'll get caught! The casino is fool-proof!"

Marco rolls his eyes.

"Come on, let's just get the money and go."

Scourging in the dark, the two look around through the cabinets and drawers situated among the living room. So far, they hadn't much luck.

"Screwdriver. I'm keeping that."

Marco stuffs the screwdriver into his pocket.

"What, why?"

"Fend off any crackheads."

"Oh for god's sake."

Eventually, when they looked through the lat drawer, they found a Ziploc bag, containing around 1,000 dollars.

"Ooh!"

Marco's eyes light up as he counts the money.

"Hey! We decided on 500, and 500 max."

Marco rolls his eyes, before splitting the money in half so he had 500. Though, while Andez wasn't looking, he smushed the other 500 into his other pocket.

As the two approach the front door, though, they realise something. The door is locked. There is no way out of this.

"Shit- will that screwdriver open the door?"

Marco sticks the end of the screwdriver in the keyhole, fiddling it around a while.

"No can do."

They really were in quite the situation now. They believed there was no way out and that they would eventually be discovered. Now, however, they needed to figure out other routes out of the front entrance.

Andez turns to face Marco, ideas whizzing through his head.

"Is there anything else we can try?"

Worried he would never leave the place, he asks. That's for sure--- he didn't want to be seated at a table with an irascible Father and an angry teenager. Not in the middle of his Sunday roast.

Marco pauses to consider. He could have tried a lot of his many ideas. Though, none of them were really secure at all given Marco's lack of Depth Perception.

"Maybe we could kick in the door?"

"Oh my god no."

Andez replies, horrified.

"Take down the wall?"

"Absolutely Not!"

"So what?!"

--------------

The two are speeding down the driveway of the house as the lights are seen turning on. Despite Andez's CONSTANT warnings, Marco had jumped through the window of the house and made a run for it, with andez, hurriedly, in pursuit.

Andez's breath was laboured, as he struggled to keep up with Marco. He wasn't a very athletic guy.

"W-wait!" He wheezes. "WAIT- up!"

Marco was too focused on finding a route as far away from the house as possible. Occasionally, a dollar would fall out of his pocket, which andez would hastily pick back up. They couldn't afford to lose any of it.

"You're running too- fast!"

Andez was breathing as though he just ran cross country twice over.
They manage to get out of the eye view of the house before they heard the sound of a shotgun cocking.

"Marco! Where the- fuck are we going-?!"

"Hotel." Marco replies, not taking his eyes off of the environment in front of him.

"You took a -"

Andez wheezes.

"Left! Not a--- right!-"

The two ran consecutively for another half hour. Surprisingly, Andez did not have an asthma attack yet. But it sure looked like he was close.