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Saturday, June 6, 2009

Framed

Marc awoke, startled, by the sound of a car door shutting in his front yard. Then another door slammed. And a third.

An engine started.

Two more car doors slammed.

Five car doors? Marc didn't have time to think. A bright red light filled his bedroom, and the engine noise got louder. The red light, coming in through the windows and seemingly the walls, coalesced into a pungent purple colloid in a bedroom.

This gelatinous substance, more osmotic than nitric oxide, lifted Marc and his Pekingese, Jennifer, while apparently passing through everything else.

The ooze had lifted Marc and Jennifer about six feet into the air when the car engine and the red light shut off. Five car doors slammed in quick succession, and a car engine started again. This time, Marc could hear the car drive away.

Slowly, the ooze began to vaporize and dissipate, turning back into red light and disappearing. Marc watched Jennifer bounced around the room like a kid in a playpen as he fell back asleep a yard above his bed.



Bobbi was acquitted. That sonofabitch Murdock couldn't even convince a jury to convict her. To Bobbi, the legal system was a truly beautiful thing.

She had committed dozens of white collar crimes and all but admitted to her crimes in court, but she played dumb, and now she was free to reap the benefits. She had so much fun in the trial, she was tempted to commit more crimes, but she certainly had no need to. She'd collected, in all, around seven billion dollars illegally. She had a billion dollars each invested in dozens of world markets in Swiss francs, Australian dollars, Canadian dollars, Kiwi dollars, Japanese yen, and English pounds, six of the strongest world currencies. The remaining billion dollars was split among liquid assets in Euros and American dollars. She never had to worry about money again.



Marc woke up on top of his comforter and confused. Jennifer was asleep at his feet. He thought for sure he had had a crazy dream. He got up, showered, ate breakfast, checked his email, and brushed his teeth. He went outside to check the mail. He found money covered in purple fingerprints.

He ran back inside and looked - in his wallet - in his desk drawer - in his safe - all of his cash was in the yard, covered in purple fingerprints. He called the police immediately. The police asked him to gather the cash by turning a plastic zipper bag inside out and touching the money only with the plastic. He was then to transfer the money to plastic bags, being careful not to disturb the purple-ooze fingerprints. The police would be over at 3:00.



Officer Green ran the fingerprints for a fourth time and she got the same result: Bobbi Reed. Why on Earth would a free-roaming white-collar criminal with billions of dollars steal cash from a single blue-collar man in the inner city?