Failed firebombing

I went into the bank with the package. Determined to show these bastards who was in the wrong for once. Woman waiting in front of me in line. Gray hair. What is that I detect? She smells. Foul like New York City garbage or an arrest warrant stored up some cop's ass. Dunno why he'd do that. Goddam cops.

Focus: firebomb the Kinkos--Bank, I mean. Blow this bank all to heck. I'm gonna do it. Oh Brother!

Next thing: talk to attendant. Damn she's a hot young piece of ass. Guess I'll withdraw some money and go to Kinkos. NO! It must be done here. I'm sweating. Don't know what to say. This girl is milking me with her eyes, her sweet slutty sultry slutty eyes. She wants it. Right here. Right now.

I take down my pants and shortly get tackled by a dirty security guard who smells of aftershave. Never did get to detonate the blast. Guess I'm going to prison.