Free Geek Mafia by Rick Dakan Page A

little ritual we have," she said. "Every time we take down a big score - like we did for you today -
    we have a little session called Plots and Plans. Basically, whoever we judge benefited the most but did the least on the last score has to come up with the next one. Now, obviously this rule doesn't apply to you, since you're not a part of our Crew. But if you wanna play, that'd be cool. It is a lot of fun."
    "How does it work?" Everyone was watching them now, waiting to see if Paul would play along or chicken out.
    "There's not much to it, really. No rules or anything like that. You just come up with an idea of what to do next. Don't worry if none of the ideas are any good. It's really just a fun game. We hardly do half the things we come up with."
    "C'mon Paul," said Popper, from the floor near Paul's feet. "It's fun! Just think of a scam. Some way to make money or have fun without, you know, really working for it."
    "Ok, ok, I'll play," said Paul. It did sound sort of intriguing. "Can I have a minute to think of something?"
    "Sure, if you want," said Chloe. "But part of the fun of the game is just thinking off the top of your head.
    We're not looking for a carefully thought out scheme planned down to every last detail. It's all about coming up with ideas. You know, brainstorming."
    "Um...ok. How do I start?"
    "We'll help you out - that's the fun part for the rest of us." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then sat back down on the couch next to Bee. "Just throw out the first idea that comes to you." The first idea that came to him was grabbing Chloe and kissing her, but he didn't suppose that would go over very well.
    "We could..." Paul was thinking fast. How to steal money? He searched his brain's rather comprehensive movie catalog - Heat, The Sting, Ocean's 11, Hudson Hawk... "We could rob a bank." This suggestion produced a chorus of good-natured boos.
    "We're looking for something a little more original than that," said Raff.
    "And a lot less dangerous," added Chloe. "Try and be more creative."
    "How about counterfeiting?" Paul ventured. More boos. What the hell did they want from him? They were the criminals, not him.

    CHAPTER 8
    38
    "C'mon Paul," This time it was Popper chiming in. "We like 'em quick and dirty like today. Nothing too fancy or that'll take a bunch of time and equipment."
    "Let me think here," said Paul. To his surprise, this was turning out to be a kind of exciting challenge, even though he wasn't very good at it. "So, something more in the line of a con right?"
    "Exactly!" said Bee.
    "And the best cons are the ones where the person never even knows they were conned, like in The Sting, right?" said Paul. "We need to come up with something that the victims never even know about."
    "Well, it's not a necessity," said Chloe. "They just need to not know about it long enough for us to get away with it!" The Crew laughed in appreciation.
    "So not counterfeiting money," said Paul. He was on a roll now. An idea was coming to him. "But counterfeiting something that's, you know, easier to fake."
    "Like what?" asked Raff, still leaning against the back wall.
    "Ok, I have this friend who collects wine. He buys these real expensive bottles of Bordeaux and whatever and then he just holds onto them for years and years. It's supposed to take like ten or twenty years before some of these wines are ready to drink." Paul didn't actually have a friend like that; he'd just read about this kind of thing in an in-flight magazine once. But he thought that would've sounded lame. "So we could make fake bottles of wine. You know, buy cheap wine and use Photoshop to make expensive labels for them."
    "Not bad," said Chloe. "That's a good start."
    "Who would we sell them to?" said Raff. "Who's going to buy $500 bottles of wine from people they don't know?"
    "I don't know," said Paul. "Don't they sell wine on eBay?"
    "I didn't think you were allowed to do that," said Bee. "We'd have to check."
    But Paul was still rolling.