The Funny Misadventures of Bob the Burglar

 

The continued adventures of Bob the burglar

Bob, a man whose criminal career was about as successful as a sieve holding water, was the undisputed, albeit unwanted, king of burglary in Klien, Texas. Now, 'king' might be a generous term. More accurately, he was the only burglar in Klien, a fact he attributed to his unique set of...challenges.

Firstly, Bob was terrified of cats. A simple hiss from a fluffy feline could send him scrambling up a tree faster than a squirrel after an acorn. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, the sight of a 90-year-old lady clutching a shotgun sent shivers down his spine that rivaled the chill of a Texas winter. These two phobias combined to create a rather amusingly disastrous career path.

Episode 1: The Case of the Fluffy Felon

Bob, eyeing a particularly tempting-looking Victorian house with a "Beware of Dog" sign that suspiciously lacked a canine presence, crept towards the back garden. He was just about to jimmy the lock when a fluffy, ginger cat, the size of a small bear, materialized from the shadows with a menacing meow.

Bob, his face paling, yelped like a startled chihuahua and promptly tripped over a garden gnome, sending it hurtling towards the window. The resulting crash shattered the peace of the neighborhood and alerted the homeowner, a kindly old lady named Agnes, who just happened to be a champion sharpshooter in her younger days and still practiced regularly.

Agnes, armed with a shotgun that could probably bring down a small aircraft, promptly marched out onto the porch, glaring at the flailing Bob with the intensity of a thousand suns. Bob, in a desperate bid for survival, launched himself over a rosebush, leaving behind a trail of shredded clothing and bewildered apologies. Agnes, chuckling at the ridiculous sight, simply shook her head and went back inside. Bob, bruised and humiliated, crawled away, vowing to stick to robbing lemonade stands in the future.

Episode 2: The Night of the Nine Lives

Emboldened by a particularly strong cup of coffee, Bob decided to try again, this time targeting a seemingly empty house with a "Beware of Cat" sign. He tiptoed through the front door, only to be greeted by a chorus of indignant meows. A horde of fluffy, striped, and calico cats, each with an expression of pure disdain, surrounded him, hissing and spitting.

Bob, convinced he'd stumbled into a feline convention, frantically backpedaled out the door, tripping over his own feet in the process. He landed hard, his head colliding with a garden ornament shaped like a grumpy-looking owl. Dazed and disoriented, he made a hasty retreat, leaving behind a trail of bewildered felines and a shattered owl.

Episode 3: The Great Granny Gamble

Determined to prove he wasn't a complete failure, Bob decided to finally tackle the challenge of the 90-year-old ladies with shotguns. He picked a quiet street, hoping to catch a solitary victim off guard. He crept towards a house with a slightly askew porch swing, convinced it was ripe for the picking.

As he fiddled with the lock, the porch door creaked open, revealing a woman with a twinkle in her eye and a shotgun resting casually on her shoulder. She was 92 years old, and her smile radiated an aura of mischief and impending doom. Bob, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, fainted before he could utter a single word.

The 92-year-old chuckled, shaking her head at the hapless Bob. She helped him to his feet, gave him a cookie, and gently advised him to find a more suitable career path. Bob, thoroughly beaten, promised never to bother anyone again, especially not anyone with a twinkle in their eye and a fondness for weaponry.

And so, the legend of Bob the Burglar, the worst burglar in Klien, Texas, lived on, a cautionary tale of feline fury and the formidable power of 90-year-old women with shotguns. His misadventures, while disastrous, were always guaranteed to bring a smile to the faces of Klien's residents, reminding them that even in the face of adversity, there was always room for a good chuckle.

By Eric

Bob "The Burglar" A Tale of Misadventures (Part One)

Bob wasn't your typical hardened criminal. He wasn't cunning, he wasn't stealthy, and he wasn't particularly good at… well, anything criminal. He mostly spent his time circling the drain of the justice system, constantly in and out of jails and prisons. But Bob had a heart, a soft one at that. He wouldn't hurt a fly… except maybe when it was buzzing around his head.

One day, a tantalizing rumor reached Bob's ears. A tale of a peculiar homeowner, a recluse who hoarded cash instead of trusting banks. This, of course, sent a wave of excitement (and a little greed) through Bob. It was his chance to finally score big, to escape the cycle of petty crimes and finally live a life of luxury. The only problem? This homeowner was apparently "crazy."

Bob, ever the cautious (albeit terrible) burglar, had one rule he never broke: no weapons. It wasn't that he was a pacifist, it was more that he was terrified of hurting someone or, God forbid, getting caught red-handed.

So, armed with his trusty screwdriver and a knapsack he’d used for a previous, less-than-successful grocery store heist, Bob set off for the infamous home.

The drive was unnerving. The house, a skeletal structure shrouded in a dilapidated chain link fence, was straight out of a horror movie.

"This can't be real," Bob muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

He parked right in front of the crumbling porch, his heart pounding like a drum solo. The sight of the overgrown weeds and the broken gate made him shiver. A dog, a monstrous, rabid canine, was surely lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce.

Bob swallowed, ignoring the knot of dread in his stomach. He had to do this.

As he hesitantly approached the fence, a groan of rusty metal followed the gate as it collapsed with a dramatic crash.

"You alright, buddy?"

Two giggling boys, perched on bikes across the street, were watching him with amusement. Bob, flustered, tried to look menacing, but his efforts were met with more laughter.

"Go away," he growled, his voice cracking.

The boys, instead of dispersing, moved closer. "This is going to be good," one of them chirped, his eyes glued to Bob.

The laughter echoed in the eerie silence, adding to Bob's growing paranoia. He felt his legs turn to jelly, but he had come too far to turn back.

Ignoring the taunts, Bob found himself staring at the front door, the only access point to this house of horrors. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the stench of decay and something... feline… filling his nostrils.

The house was a bizarre cat-lover's paradise, with portraits of felines adorning every wall
and cat statues perched on every surface. The sheer number of them made Bob’s skin crawl.

A thump from upstairs broke the silence. Bob, ignoring the unsettling sound, pressed on, his mind replaying the story of the "crazy" homeowner. He imagined a crazed, knife-wielding cat lady, her eyes gleaming with madness.

He started cautiously towards the stairs, the thump echoing again, closer this time. Suddenly, a loud click, followed by the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked, froze him in his tracks.

Outside, the two boys, still giggling, were watching the house. A couple of police cars arrived, officers slowly stepping out and settling onto the hoods, sipping coffee and munching donuts.

“Are they gonna go in?” one of the boys asked, pointing towards the house.

The officers burst into laughter. “Nah, he’ll be comin’ out any minute,” one of them said, his voice thick with amusement.

Bob, paralyzed by fear, stood frozen on the stairs, his eyes widening as a frail, ninety year old woman, clutching a shotgun, emerged from the shadows.

She looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. Then, she smiled, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Oh dear, I am so sorry deary. I forgot to load it... But no worries, I have some friends who really want to meet you."

With that, she simply said, "Get him!"

And then it happened. Hundreds of cats, of all shapes and sizes, came running from every corner of the house, an army of furry fiends converging on a terrified Bob.

He let out a scream that echoed through the house, a sound of pure, unadulterated terror.

The police heard it, and their laughter died down. "Well, time to go to work, I guess," one officer said, opening the backseat door of his patrol car.

The boys, their laughter turning to delighted screams, pointed at Bob who was now crashing through the front door, scrambling desperately towards the car. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy.

Bob, a human projectile, landed smack-dab in the backseat, just as the officer slammed the door shut.

He caught a glimpse of the old lady, her shotgun pointed at the sky, flanked by a sea of cats.

As they drove away, he heard the officer say, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“You boys be careful out there,” the old lady replied with a wink, her voice a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded.

Bob, curled up in the backseat, was sobbing uncontrollably, his babbling incoherent.

The story of Bob "The Burglar" was far from over. He had stumbled into a world of eccentric characters and unexpected perils, a world where a "crazy" old lady and her army of cats were not to be trifled with.

And the adventure had just begun.

(To be continued...)