The perps are, as perps tend to be, a motley crew.

One later called rather over-grandly

by the magistrate in court ‘ring-leader’

in fact is more pub braggart and nutter

than criminal mastermind. Two halfwit thugs

who’ve ne’ertheless fallen under his thrall

and two old geezers possessed of the needed skills

– a plumber and a spark – and nous  enough

to leg it fast and get off with the gear

if given half a chance. He has an eye on that.

And Kid, the getaway guy, expert joy-rider,

along just for the thrill, makes up the backstop

 of this plucky six-pack of villains, planning

to tug the golden toilet valiantly

out of the arty-farty world in which

it is enmired and make a quick killing of it.

Free market forces at work. They think. Putting

the thing back into circulation where it belongs.

 The ol’ fella with plumbing knowledge concurs.

Go for it, they all agree.  

*

A few pints down the pub with whiskey chasers

to steady the nerves, and concrete plans are laid.

“Right, lads!” Leader exhorts. He likes to begin

his exhortations with little perorational words

like ‘so’ and ‘right’ to garner the gathering’s attention.

“This is the plan: we crawl our way under the cloak of night

like special ops across the lawns into the palace grounds;

Thug 1, hoodied, knocks out that bloody closed circuit TV,

and Thug 2, thug that he is (thug grins) bashes

that burglar alarm out good and proper.”

“Got it,” Thug 2 high-fives. “From then on we,” Leader continues,

“are just one bashed-in window away

from pots of gold.” (Cheers) “Here’s maps of the rooms.

The red X marks the spot, exactly where the gilded

bog is located. And take care not to trip

on the red carpet up the stairs or knock over

that statue that sticks out over the bannister.

We’re pros not mindless vandals, remember,

be mindful of that.” “You’ve been a guest there, have you, guv,”

one smirking thug pipes up. “Of course I have,

I’ve cased the joint, done my research, you twerp.”

The twerp pipes down. “Plumber will deal with detaching

the ‘object of interest’ from the waterworks,

with Spark, bright as he is, his eager apprentice.

Now… here’s the tricky part. Logistics, as business

types are wont to say, is all. Kid needs to have

the van parked right at the right time behind the hedge.

And, for fuck’s sake, Kid, paint it black or gray

and get that idiotic red-and-white flag

off of it sharpish. Right. Then you two heavies

hump it across the field. He points pointedly

at the thugs. We help (he casts a glance over

the other three) them over the hedge. Bring wellies

in case it’s wet. And don’t go wearing those glaring

 white sneakers, Kid.” He looks Kid straight in the eye.   

Plumber and Spark nod sagely. They’ve seen it all.

“So what’s my role?” Spark asks. “You come along

to prove you’re a team player, in with the rest of us.

You see? So you don’t run off with the gear

and leave us in the lurch. Later we’ll talk about

 the fence.” “Fair do’s,” the team-playing old lag agrees.

“So. Any questions?” Leader concludes. One

of the dimwit thugs raises a tentative hand.

“How much…?” “Don’t even start on that,” Leader slaps down.

“You’ll get as much as you’re worth and nothing more.”