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You check the massive atomic-powered watch strapped to your wrist: it's 4:30. In thirty minutes, the bank will close. Everyone knows robbing banks is a 24-hour opportunity. But what everyone does not know about the banking industry is that once a bank closes, the branch manager activates an "ultra-vault," a vault inside of the vault, which envelops the money like an enormous Russian nesting doll made of steel. Supposedly, it's security against villains who smash through the walls of banks in enormous armored cars to rob vaults. How ridiculously paranoid of them to foresee such an exact scenario.

Anyway, the word through the villain grapevine is that an ultra-vault can withstand any attack, even one from the Night Wolf you built to rob this bank.

You have less than thirty minutes to get out of this traffic, or your chance to rob FNSB is gone forever. Or, at least, until tomorrow.

When you were fifteen, you thought you had a future in death metal. Despite your years of practice, your dream never came to pass. But, you didn't throw your time and money away entirely, for you learned how to death-metal scream louder than human eardrums (or at least your mother's) can tolerate.

You press a green button at the side of your dashboard. A microphone pops down from the ceiling. You grab it, then share your musical talent with the world. A rumbling growl emerges from your throat and turns into something that resembles the scream of a mountain lion.

The honking of horns stops. In its stead is the desperate squealing of tires. Cars swerve to either side of the road to let you through. Drivers, once irritated, now stare at the Night Wolf in fear. Soon enough, the worst of the traffic is gone, and you are free to make your way to the bank.

The Night Wolf Is Not the Only Metal Thing Here

According to the digital map on the dashboard of your Night Wolf, you are five minutes away from the bank, which means you are five minutes away from financial freedom! Five minutes away from building that new space station with plasma blasters that can zap other space stations! Five minutes away from laundering money through yet another R-rated costumed hero movie! They make so much money and make heroes look bad! What's to hate?

Suddenly, a police siren whines behind you. They have to be joking! A tiny patrol car versus your enormous Night Wolf is a fight not even a gambling addict would bet on. But the police have something you don't: numbers. Make one of them mad, and more are sure to avenge them. The last thing you want is a standoff at the bank, but the second-to-last thing you want is to get pulled over. The third-to-last thing you want is to contest a ticket in court by explaining you were on the way to rob a bank.

How do you deal with the cop?

You've always listened to your gut. It has yet to say anything other than "gurgle, gurgle," but it has not steered you wrong yet.

Speaking of steering, you gun the engine and look for a way to lose the cop.

You make eye contact with the police officer. It is the law of the road that once you lock eyes with the driver of the car next to you, you must race. You rev your engine and pull forward. He does the same. There is no starter pistol, no person in short shorts with a flag, no referee with a whistle. Honor is the only rule.

Suddenly, the cop car races forward, leaving you in his dust. Seems he chose to get a head start instead of respecting the rules of the road. It would be impossible to catch up with him now, even if you wanted to.

While you have just been granted a boon in ridding yourself of the cop, you are a little bitter that the race was never fair.

You are two blocks away from FNSB. You can practically smell the crisp and sweaty scent of money. But you cannot take your thoughts off that cop. Special abilities, whether scientific or magical, would have come in handy during your amazing face-off with that cop car. While it would have been impossible to use them while at the steering wheel, in the future, amazing powers would be spectacular for solving any potential problems that pop up.

The question is, do you have any special powers?

The best part about having mind powers is that you can make anyone around you eat dirt without them even realizing it. So many people in City Township Villa have been plagued with the tendency to trip over "nothing." That "nothing" is you, an unseen menace that most people will never know about. But you know, and you laugh.

Wait a minute, don't you also trip over "nothing" all the time?

Those Who Matter Do Not Mind

You arrive in front of a Grecian-style building, which stands out against the gothic architecture of City Township Villa. The building is a blend of brick and marble. FNSB is the only bank in the Villa to feature a courtyard with a working fountain. It is an old building, one of the oldest in the Villa, some people say. Its history dates back to 1845, when a little guy named Frederick National had a big dream: he spent a million dollars building a bank that ultimately netted him a billion dollars. Frederick National chose to immortalize himself in the fountain: his statue spits water at the plebeians below.

To sum it all up, it's an old bank, with a fountain and a courtyard. This place has to be filled to the brim of Frederick National's top hat with cash.

What do you plan to do with your share of the stolen money?

Unfortunately, in between you and the building is a camp of hippies. They have erected thrift store tents in the lawn of the bank. They dance erratically to psychedelic music and smoke smelly things. When they catch sight of your Night Wolf, they lie in a long line before your tank treads. Their leader, an Allen Ginsberg-looking fellow, climbs onto the twelve-foot-tall marble statue of Frederick National. He holds up a megaphone and ignores National's statue drooling on his shoulder.

"We will not allow a villain to destroy this beloved historical monument!" he says. "Down with bad guys!"

He repeats, "Down with bad guys!" then the other hippies join in, until at least two hundred voices repeat the slogan. This is a perfect example of mob mentality, and not the fun kind that a villain with a grudge can easily use to their advantage. It is obvious some outside force arranged this, perhaps one of those meddling do-gooder costumed heroes. Maybe it could have even been your archenemy!

Maybe you shouldn't have announced you would rob this bank on live television.

How do you solve this new problem?