Mr. Pilfer Lives Up to His Name
by Justin Litke

Our tale begins on an early morning in the Pilfer
residence, the sound of multiple clock/radios blaring
off at once, the dog's high, shrill bark, and the
sound of a vigorous morning workout combine into the
typical bustle. Robert Pilfer was a characteristic
businessman, and this businessman revolved around a
specific, planned-out routine: get up, exercise, take
a shower, drink some coffee, feed the dog, go to work,
come home, watch TV, check on the kids, go to sleep. 
Mr. Pilfer had a fairly uneventful, and yet,
fulfilling life. He was happy, that is if happiness is
the lack of sadness.
But this morning was different from the rest, this was
a morning that Mr. Pilfer broke out of his shell, and
not in such a good way. Somehow that mind of his had
gotten the idea that he wanted that intangible more,
that is if more means that others have less. Yes, on
this morning, Robert Pilfer had made the decision to
embezzle funds from the company he worked for and its
clients. It was not as if he needed the money for any
particular thing, he was happy with all of his
material possessions, and as far as he knew his two
little girls were happy as well. On this morning it
was as if he realized that his life had become
stagnant and inert; any change would be a welcome one.
Before he left for the office, he found his girls with
Juanita, the live-in help, and as he walked in he
witnessed what was sure to be a common occurrence at
the Pilfers' residence. He walked in on Diane and
Victoria fighting over the same toy. Immediately he
commanded them, "Both of you, drop that toy this
"Yes daddy", they said in unison.
"Why are you fighting so?"
Diane quickly replied, "Victoria always gets the
funnest toys! I wanted the Pretty Pink Pony Playset,
but I got the Pretty Purple Pony Playset instead and
it's just not fair!"
"Just because daddy loves me more, doesn't mean you
can get all upset about it!"
"Now girls, you stop that! Victoria, next time Diane
wants to play with your toys, don't be so selfish."
Looking at Diane, "how come she don't get in no
"I was just getting to that." He gazes at Diane, "As
for you little lady, I expected better. You know that
we never, ever steal in this house. It's just not
right and you know it. Now I want you to go sit in the
corner until Juanita says you can come out!"
"Yes daddy"
Mr. Pilfer could barely believe what his daughters had
turned into. They were both rotten, spoiled brats that
didn't know how to share, or have any idea of others
feeling or emotions. All he wanted to do was raise
them right.
He thought about this all the way to work, and as he
parked his new Lexus, he pondered the excuse he would
use for his tardiness.
When he reached his floor, he finally decided to tell
the other employees about how rough he was feeling. He
mussed up his hair, played around with his coat and
tie and put on his worst unpleasant face. On his way
in, the secretary asked what was wrong. His plan was
already working. By lunch, he had everyone think he
was recovering from his illness, and he was back to
normal. It was a typical day for a financial advisor
in the office of Jonathon Stonagal, a local
importer/exporter. He took no coffee breaks today;
during his breaks, he carefully selected over a
hundred different accounts, transferring money into
his own, little by little.
About quitting time, Mr. Pilfer 's boss was making his
rounds, just checking on people. When the boss got to
Mr. Pilfer 's cubicle, he saw him embezzling the last
few dollars from an account he wasn't even supposed to
have access to. Immediately, it drew a reaction,
"Pilfer! What are you doing? Get out of that account!
You are suspended until further notice!"
"But I" there was nothing Mr. Pilfer could say to
deny or excuse it. He was a lowlife, and for the worst
reason. This was not needed. He did it because he
could and he felt like it. 
Later Mr. Pilfer packed his briefcase and headed home.
On the way home he remembered the quarrel this
morning, and how he scolded Diane so relentlessly.
With his head hung low he retreated into his home,
fixated on the realization that he was a thief, but
worse than that, a hypocrite. 

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