"What the hell is going on here?" blasted Frank, his slurred speech somehow making him seem even more threatening.

Although I desperately tried to think of an excuse for our intrusion, my mind didn't feel like coughing one up. No wonder. What possible explanation could there be for us running through someone's garden with stolen food?

"I asked you three a question." Frank continued.

Mac and Stewart remained silent, probably due to the fact they couldn't think of an excuse either. The situation had become dire. We were trapped from the front by Frank and trapped from behind by Davie and his army of drunks, who were now shouting over the fence to catch Frank's attention.

Their attempts worked, because the musclebound hardman instructed one of his mates to go and see what all the fuss was about. He tapped his foot while he waited and eyeballed the three of us with disdain.

Finally, the mate wandered back across. "Davie said these three boys tried to lumber him with a takeaway worth over twenty quid."

Frank narrowed his eyes and then turned to us. "How would that work?"

"It was his idea." Stewart blurted out, pointing up at Mac from his place on the ground.

"Shut up Stewart."

"Well, it was."

"I don't care if...."

Suddenly, Frank picked up the brush and threw it across the garden. "Both of you, shut up. Now, someone better tell me how this food scam went down."

Nobody said a word so Frank approached Mac. I watched my friend retreat into his shell like a tortoise trying to protect itself from a predator. It was the first time I'd ever seen him back down from anyone.

"You got something to tell me." Frank asked, nodding his head repeatedly as if to tell Mac he should answer in the affirmative.

"Just tell him the truth." Stewart suggested.

Mac looked at him with disgust, "You coward."

"Hoi, I'm talking to you, not him." Frank growled.

"Fine, here's how we did it...."

After hearing our complicated plan to get a free munch, Frank looked at both his mates and the three of them collapsed into fits of laughter.

"I'm glad you're amused," Davie cried over the fence, "But I need the food back."

"What food?" Frank replied.

"The one the boys have. I need to give it back to the delivery driver. He's got their pal trapped in my house."

"I don't see any food. All that cheap cider must be rotting your brain."

"What?"

"You heard me. There's no food here, so you and your friends get back in that dump you call a hoose."

Davie did not argue. Instead, he and the others turned around and trudged away from the fence. Once the back door slammed shut, Frank shook his head and then told Stewart to get up.

"I can't move." said Stewart, wincing as he clutched his injured foot.

Frank dragged the invalid to his feet and confirmed the injury to be nothing more than a sprain.

"What happens now?" I asked Frank.

"Now, you hand me the food."

I heard Mac and Stewart chuckling in response, but I knew Frank was serious. This would be our punishment for coming into his back garden. Sure, he had saved us from the zombie-drunks but only so he could teach us a lesson and get free food.

"Can't you just let us leave with it?" Stewart asked.

"Either we take the food, or I lock all three of you in my hut for an hour with Princess. It's your choice."

"I wasn't that hungry, anyway." Stewart insisted.

"Give it here." Frank ordered.

The food was ripped from Mac's hands in a flash. My heart sank as the three adults grinned at their new acquisition. All our planning and hard work would result in us leaving empty-handed.

"That's ours." Mac fired back.

"Correction, it was yours. Stealing has consequences."

"Yet, you're happy to steal from us." Mac spat.

Frank did not like the aggressive tone one bit because he stepped into Mac's space and eyeballed him so intensely that Mac bowed his head and took a step back.

"Well, that concludes our business," Frank said. "Oh, and if I ever catch any of you in my garden again, I'll rip your arms from your sockets. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." was our simultaneous response.

"Good. Now, beat it!"

As we trudged out the back garden, I felt an immense feeling of disappointment mixed with contentment. On the one hand we had failed to pull off the Friday night Food Heist but somehow our punishment for being dishonest seemed appropriate. Mac and Stewart obviously didn't share my view because they argued amongst themselves until we reached Frank's front gate.

"He can't do this." Mac raged.

"You go back and get our food then?" was Stewart's sarcastic reply.

Thankfully, Mac wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at Frank's house. He then snuck forward and peered in the living room window.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Just having a look."

Against my better judgement, I joined him at the window. We could see Frank and his mates tucking into the food while sitting in his living room.

"We were so close." Mac said in a misty-eyed tone.

"Best we get out of here." I said, "We don't want to end up like the window cleaner."

THE END