I Mailed His Heart To San Fransisco

by: @crypto2day @cryptologyx @granblock @mobbs @ainsleyjo1952 @satchmo

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The city is bustling, morning day and night, never a dull moment, whether its down in the financial district, out at the bars, or just a visit through the rustic Kensington Market - there is always something.

A passenger trains eases into Union Station in the heart of the city. A tall man, finely dressed in a very dapper, well fitted suit steps off. LUSCIOUS (30s), he's too handsome, he's the perfect height, the nearby men and women swoon for him as he walks by. The quiet confidence he carries, draws all the eyes. He is something out of the 1930's, here in the present.

Luscious makes his way from the underground to Front Street. Still drawing the eyes of passersby he makes his way into the nearby bank.

He pulls a mask over his face and pulls a Beretta out of his jacket - "This is a robbery, it will do you best to do exactly as I say.." He announces as a security guard tries to shoot at him.

The bullets seem to pass right through him and Luscious blasts the security guard at point blank, "Anybody else?" he proclaims as the room falls silent except for the whimpers of the customers down on the ground.

The bank tellers all scream in fear of what they had just seen. The bullets seemed to have been absorbed and pushed back out... like they had been resisted by a trampoline like material.

Luscious, also flabbergasted by what had just happened became suddenly invigorated.
A feeling of immortality over came him.

His veins began to glow a deep red... was this the #yunk ?

He had heard a story of a man named Elliot who had harnessed this mysterious force known as #yunk.

Luscious quickly looked back up from the pile of bullets that had fallen out of him.

He yelled out to all of the tellers,
"Please empty the money out of the registers kindly, and nobody will have to be harmed eyyy!"

The security guard also seemingly unaffected by being shot...other than the shock, reaches out from his position on the floor. Quickly grabbing the sharp dressed man wearing a Donald Trump/Duck mask by the ankle.

With a mighty pull he manages to wrestle the robber to the ground. Others nearby are stupefied by the lack of blood and obvious ineffectiveness of the shots fired thus far.

Two men come to silent agreement as they look across the floor to one another. On a nod they both get up and hurry to the aid of the security guard.

The sharp dressed thief fires another round into the face of the guard. The bullet indents a half inch into the guard's cheek then the skin, unbroken, rebounds and the round falls to the ground with a dull tink sound.

After that one tiny bullet chinked on the ground - magical sparks, fairy dust and fireworks swirled in the air just above the bullet, turning slowly then faster into a whirlwind of fireworks. It became larger and larger and lit the whole street, and as the crowd gazed in amazement, they all started to experience the power of the #yunk!

The sound of the shell casing hitting the ground resonated awkwardly among all that witnessed it. Luscious immediately marched to the revolving doors out into the street. He slowly checked his gun, his round, his hands, to make sure this wasn't all some freakish prank. When confident, he raised his arm straight out, targeting the first person that passed his line of sight; a mother with a pram.

He fired.

She fell to the floor instantly from a blow to the skull. Blood sprayed out of her onto the bakery window as she fell onto the pram, toppling it over, a final insult to new life.

Before panic could strike the streets, he grabbed a middle aged woman with a teacher's blouse, dragged her back through the revolving doors and fired. Dead.

After several attempts to even injure a single individual, inside the bank, without any resistance on their part, he composed himself and announced:

'Well. It seems we all have something in common. I believe a meeting is in order'

He dropped his gun and headed to the counting room. After a few seconds, everybody.

pounced on Luscious and held him down.

They all began beating on him -- trying to pound him to death -- but his body kept springing back to its normal extremely-handsome form, and he was no more dead than he had been before.

That was when one of the participants -- Elizabeth Hollyoake, a tiny woman of 86 whose late husband, Sherman, had been one of the founders of the bank -- had an idea.

She told the others to keep holding Luscious down and that she would be back shortly.

She took off in her bright-red Lambo and soon returned in likewise manner -- this time, bringing several supplies with her.

A group of Boy Scouts helped her to carry them into the bank -- after which she thanked them, gave each one $10, and sent them on their way, as they were far too young to witness what was about to happen.

Using a sword from Sherman's collection, she decapitated Luscious and put his head in one of the shipping boxes that she had brought with her.

At that point, the new mother, the baby, and the lady in the schoolteacher blouse came back to life.

The shipping boxes all bore different mailing addresses going to different places -- this preparation done by Elizabeth while she was wearing the same rubber gloves that she was now.

They had all been addressed using labels that had been typewritten with the return addresses being bogus ones and the destination addresses ranging from everything from museums to strip-joints in different parts of the world.

There were 20 boxes in all -- each one containing a piece of Luscious.

Everybody involved wore the rubber gloves and surgical scrubs that Elizabeth had given to each of them as they carried out this macabre undertaking.

After the boxing was done, they changed back into their street clothes and were issued new rubber gloves that weren't bloody.

With each given enough money to cover shipping and handling with enough left over for fancy dining afterwards, each person took between one and three boxes. They mailed them from five different post offices within a 50 mile radius of the bank.

I won't take the time to list all of the different destinations except to say that one of the people in the room -- a thirty something man named Tony Bennett -- would have the honor of being able to say:

"I mailed his heart to San Francisco."

Life returned to normal for almost three years -- but oddly, and maybe it was a quantum thing, luscious could be heard laughing by each patron of the bank as they delivered his parts to the post office.

Fin..