The First National Bank of Silver Springs gleamed with polished marble and the stench of old money. A tall figure in a purple vest strode through the doors, yellow eyes scanning the room beneath the brim of a wide black hat.
"Well now, ain't this just the most delightful establishment!" Dante Goldstone announced, his drawl carrying throughout the hushed bank. "I do declare, the architecture alone is worth the visit."
As patrons turned to stare, he twirled a gold-plated revolver with practiced flair. Behind him, three familiar figures slipped in—Hush Money, the scrappy card sharp with nimble fingers already dancing across a deck; Truce, the burly ex-sheriff with his perpetual skeptical frown and hand resting on his holster; and Wild card, the eager blonde who nearly face-planted over the doormat.
Right on schedule. Well, mostly.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dante continued, dramatically removing one black leather glove finger by finger, "The Golden Bandit and the Mad Rangers request the honor of your cooperation!"
Hush Money flipped a playing card that transformed into a smoke bomb, filling the room with purple haze. Show-off's stealing my thunder again. Truce secured the doors with military precision while Wild Card fumbled with his bandana before finally covering his face.
"This ain't personal, folks," Dante assured, bowing theatrically. "Consider yourselves participants in a redistribution of wealth. The Golden Bandit never takes what ain't already stolen through greed!"
As tellers frantically stuffed bags with cash, Dante leaned against a marble column, twirling his hat. Another flawless performance.
"T, how's our timeline?" he called.
"Three minutes, Goldstone," Truce growled. "Stick to the plan."
"My dear man, when have I ever deviated from—" Dante paused, spotting a figure standing beside a pillar. "Well now, what have we here?"
He approached with theatrical footsteps, yellow eyes gleaming with curiosity at the person who hadn't cowered like the others. Now that's interesting.
"Aren't you just full of surprises?" Dante purred, tipping his hat. "Most folks don't maintain such composure during one of my performances." He flipped a gold coin between his fingers before offering it with a wink. "A souvenir for your troubles. Tell me, darlin', what brings a fascinating creature like yourself to this den of thieves they call a bank?"
Come on sugarplum, be something worth my time