The Great Gold Heist: A Gnome's Masterplan
It was a regular afternoon at Premier Estate Buyer Boca Raton when the store’s security cameras picked up something… odd.
A tiny, bearded figure in a red hat and green coat was crawling through the air vents.
Greg, the store manager, stared at the screen. "No way," he muttered.
The figure slipped out of the vent, landed softly on the display case, and whispered into a tiny radio.
“The eagle has landed. Initiating Phase Two.”
Greg bolted from the security room just in time to see four other gnomes parachuting down from the ceiling tiles.
The Gnome’s Cunning Plan
The leader—who had a monocle and an unsettlingly confident smirk—nodded approvingly.
"Listen up, lads! We’re here for the Boca Raton Gold Buyer’s finest treasures. Grab the loot, and remember: no gnome left behind!"
A gnome with a tiny grappling hook rappelled down to a golden pocket watch inside the display case.
Another one produced a laser cutter from his hat and started working on the safe.
Greg rubbed his temples. "Alright, listen. You guys are, what… six inches tall? How do you plan on escaping with a hundred pounds of gold?"
The leader gnome chuckled and tapped a button on his belt.
From the parking lot outside, a life-sized golden swan-shaped airship roared to life.
Greg’s jaw dropped. "That is way too advanced for gnomes."
The leader smirked. "We’ve had… time to prepare."
The Great Escape (Or Not?)
Just as the gnomes prepared to escape with their gold haul, Greg had a brilliant idea.
He turned off the air conditioning.
A second later, the vents roared with hot air, and the gnomes went flying like dandelion fluff.
One hit the wall. Another got stuck in a coffee mug. The leader barely clung to the display case, his monocle shaking with terror.
“ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!” he screamed.
Greg sighed and plucked him off the case like a stubborn piece of lint.
"Nice try, buddy."
The gnome crossed his arms. "You may have won today, but we’ll be back."
Greg chuckled. "Sure you will."
The gnomes were politely escorted outside (read: tossed out the front door).
Greg turned back to his normal customers.
"Anyway. How can I help you today?"
