On Gangsters, Money and the Fattest Woman in the World

Today something noteworthy happened.
I went to the bank to transfer funds back home to pay off my parents and credit card bills. This (for my Father) is definitely noteworthy, but not the subject of this entry.
What was interesting today happened as I stood in line to use the automatic teller. There were six machines in a row at this particular branch, and at the very last machine a fashionable young man was using the teller with another fashionable young man standing directly behind him.
Their fashion wasn't so unique, the usual expensive suit accompanied by designer watches and slicked back black hair. What was unique was their posture and mannerisms.
The man at the teller had his briefcase propped up blocking the view of his hands, and the man behind who I assumed was just a friend, was fidgeting, looking about, and generally staring at those waiting (mainly me).
He was being the lookout.

I smiled at the lookout just to be a cocky asshole, and he just continued to look around the area stone faced but obviously a little nervous.
My eyes then gravitated to the man at the teller. He had this briefcase propped up, but what for? Unfortunately for him, he wasn't being as discreet as he thought and with a little subtle positioning I saw what he had in his hands... a stack of one hundred dollar bills the size of a novel standing upright on its spine. I very loose estimate for that amount of money would be five thousand dollars? Sure not much, but keep in mind this is cash. Also he was taking out more, and turning and handing his lackey his payment for the day.

As I went to make my own transaction, I noticed the lackey was watching me. Perhaps it was in revenge for watching them, so I made sure to turn my back to them so they couldn't see my pin etc. That's when he stabbed me in my shoulder.
I quickly snapped around, pulled the knife from my back and said "You just cashed your last cheque" his eyes went wide in disbelief as I said this and I sliced him across the chest. Turning to the head man I whipped out my pistol, promptly shooting him between the eyes before he could draw on me.
A tumbleweed lazily floated across the bank's linoleum floor.
I mozied up to the now vacant automatic teller and slowly packed the money into my bag. Another victory for justice.

No, that didn't happen. Everything else is true though. I thought I needed a wild-western ending to reward you all for that babbling.

An addition:
Yesterday I did some overtime work on my precious, precious Sunday to be one of three judges at a speech contest. It wasn't so much a speech contest as a "see who can pronounce and remember the template speech assigned to us", but the kids tried their hardest and in my opinion were absolutely wonderful. Some got into what is basically not their words with gestures and the like.
Anyways, the reason for my addition:
One of these templates was called "The Fastest Woman in the World", a speech about Wilma Rudolph. One of the students had the unfortunate mistake of forgetting the first "s" every time.
This was really hard for me as I had to pinch myself from not bursting out into laughter as the student said gems such as "I'd like to tell you about the fattest woman in the world" and "She overcame her handicap to become the fattest woman in the world."
I couldn't bring myself to correct her in front of parents, teachers and classmates so just let it slide.