Three-Word Dialogue

 “Ready?” Gus whispered as he gingerly entered the van. Richard looked around and started the engine.

“Yeah. Let’s Go.” 

“That was close.” said Gus

“Too close” Richard snapped back, not satisfied that they had escaped only by the skin of their teeth.

“What happened anyway?” asked Richard.

“Guards caught wind,” Gus replied. They had only left the bank with a few hundred bucks, a lot less than planned.

“Boss’ll be pissed,” Gus said as he riffled through the fresh green bills, checking for anything fishy.

“No kidding.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Mine?! You crazy?” Richard shot back, and now the two men were angry.

“Shoulda warned me.” 

Richard was supposed to be watching the security cameras from the safety of the van, but the connection was lost mid-heist. 

“S’not my fault,” Richard shouted, and neither one of the men wanted to back down. All of a sudden, Gus pulled out mis 9mm handgun and pointed the barrel at Richard’s face.

“Don’t your dare!” shouted Richard, still irate but now scared for his life. Both men knew that pulling the trigger would most likely send the whole van into the bay, hundreds of feet below.

“Shut up!” barked Gus. The two men were as good as dead anyway. The boss’s orders were specific. No less than 10 grand or it was their heads.

“We’re dead meat!” cried Gus, dropping the gun and breaking down.

“Pull yourself together!” Richard commanded, as he looked into his rearview mirror at the San Francisco sunrise. 

“We gonna die?” Gus was petrified. He read the boss loud and clear the night before.

“No. I gotcha.” The two men turned left, the opposite direction of the warehouse where the boss was expecting them any minute. 

“Where to next?” asked Gus, sobbing. 

“Anywhere but here.”