The Tale of a Bad Thing and Deciding Your Fate

Can you help me to finish this?
What would your answer be,
if you chose your own adventure and your ending?

 

The first time I did it, the bad thing, I fully expected to be caught and busted out to everyone.

I was so sure that my nervousness would be only too patently obvious, or my habits brought on by my anxiousness over not being caught, the hair twirling and eyes darting here and there but never actually meeting the eyes of my intended victim.

When my scam was bought, I almost gave away the whole thing with my stunned relief. That was around age 12.

Since that painful first entry into that of the scam artist world, I’ve run hundreds of them and never once have even been a suspect. It stands to reason I suppose.

I was blessed with the fortune of being a good looking woman from a distinguished family. After all, I was raised a lady, schooled in some of the most prestigious schools and have the initials behind my last name to prove it, so why would I be?

Like a good bottle of wine, I had to mature a bit and polish my manipulation skills.

I consider my scams to be on the level of an art form, proud of my mastery with the careful application of the game. Each scam comes with it’s own set of challenges and headaches, but they all have 2 things in common with the other.

Me of course, and the dance steps of courtship necessary to wooing the victim.

The first scam was raising money for needy people. Nickel and dime stuff. Give me a break, I was only 12.

People are always trying to raise money for a person in need, I just didn’t tell them that the needy person was me. It was a legit cover story and pretty damn solid.

The next one didn’t come til some years later. I had been on cloud 9 for months following the first one, elated over my ill gotten gains. I lived on that for quite some time before I saw the next opportunity.

The next one was a bit more involved. It took me almost an entire year to research my subject, flesh out the details and make contingency plans. All of my efforts paid off though and I was hooked.

It became a bit of a game to me, the rules I made as I went along dance steps to abide by. Each time I did it, I was sure it would be my last, I would be caught and it all would end, leaving me nothing tangible to cling to except for memories.

With each success I grew more confident and more arrogant. No one could touch me, or so I thought. That’s exactly when I should’ve been most cautious. I wasn’t.

That’s where you come in.

How would you conclude my story? I’m curious…
Advertisements

5 thoughts on “The Tale of a Bad Thing and Deciding Your Fate”

  1. Well, maybe you can introduce the balance of the story from your jail cell, clad in the humiliating orange “jump suit.”

    Maybe you have a chance to do good for someone to atone.

    Maybe you use your “scam” charms to escape from prision and live in retirement on a distant island…until the “bug” bites you again, and you’re off on another scam.

    If this is more of an autobiographical piece, you can take the story very close to, or along the lines of, the real life outcome. I’m just “joshin’ ” with ya…lol…(aren’t I?).

    1. A bug bite? COOL! Maybe we can work that as something important into the ending of the story…possibilities!

      As I said, I’ll look at some time next week to add something.

      Have a good weekend, pretty lady!

      Skip

  2. oooo you sowed some seeds into the imagination field. 🙂

    That’s when you met me, a scam artist in my own right. As you were laying the ground work for your little scam, I saw right through it and decided to have some little fun myself.

I love getting comments. It's as close to being famous as I'll ever get.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s