The Last Big Heist

Chapter 1

The living room was a mess-an avalanche of takeout containers, snack wrappers, and half-crushed chip bags spilling off every surface. The coffee table was nowhere to be seen beneath the clutter, and Kara didn't seem to mind. It was late in the evening, and she was sunken deep into the cushions of a couch that had long since surrendered to her weight, legs spread, belly comfortably settled in her lap, one hand lazily buried in a bag of cheese puffs while the other scrolled through her phone.

Her thumb slowed as she swiped past an old photo. Then another, and another.

There they were-Kara, Caroline, and Sasha-maybe seventeen or eighteen at the time. Faces round and smeared with frosting, bellies straining against too-tight tops, laughing like they owned the world. In one shot, Sasha was double-fisting jelly donuts; in another, Caroline had passed out mid-snack, a cupcake mashed into her cheek. Kara looked younger, but unmistakably in charge, grinning wide with crumbs stuck to her chin and an arm wrapped around each of her girls.

Kara smiled to herself, a crooked, devious little smile. "Damn, we were unstoppable."

She swiped again. Another picture-this one from their twenty-first birthday heist. The three of them in form-fitting black latex bodysuits, boobs and bellies bulging every which way, standing triumphantly in front of a pizza parlor like it was a bank they'd just robbed-which, in a way, it was.

Her smile faded. She set the phone down on her belly and reached beside her to the cluttered end table. Shoved beneath a half-eaten sub sandwich and an empty soda bottle was a rolled-up set of blueprints.

She tugged them out, dusted off a few crumbs, and unrolled them carefully across her lap. The paper crackled under her fingers. Lines, measurements, entry points, security panels.

Kara stared at them for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. Then, with a low grunt and a puff of effort, she leaned forward, snatched her phone off her stomach, and opened her contacts.

"I need to give these fat-ass bitches a call," she muttered to herself.


The following morning, Kara started with Caroline. She hit the contact and put the phone on speaker, setting it on top of the blueprints as she leaned back into the couch with a crunch of snack wrappers. The phone rang a few times before picking up, mid-chaos.

"-No, Teddy, we do not eat crayons, sweetie. Honey, I gotta call you back. I've got-wait, hold on. Kara?"

"Hey, mama," Kara said, smirking. "Still wiping butts and chasing toddlers?"

A sigh on the other end. "Unfortunately, yes. What's up?"

"I got a job."

Caroline groaned. "Girl, please don't tell me this is one of your 'ideas.' I'm already exhausted and it's not even ten in the morning."

"It's not an idea," Kara said, eyes glinting. "It's a heist."

Silence.

"You did not just say that to me," Caroline muttered. "We are grown-ass women now. I've got a minivan. I have reusable grocery bags. I take fiber supplements."

"Yeah," Kara said, snorting, "and you're bored as hell."

"Okay, you're not wrong," Caroline said after a short pause, "but still-no. I've moved on, Kara. I'm a responsible adult now."

Kara grinned. "We'll see about that."

She ended the call before Caroline could say anything further. She then moved on to Sasha. This one took longer-three rings, four rings. Then the call connected with a click and a suspicious-sounding, "Who is this?"

"It's Kara."

A pause.

"Oh hell no. I already told you last year-"

"Hear me out," Kara said. "One last score."

"You know I'm on probation, right?" Sasha hissed. "I just got my name cleared from that frozen yogurt franchise mess. You have any idea what kind of heat I'd get for messing around with you again?"

"I also know," Kara said smoothly, "that you're bored, broke, and still mad they shut down your gluten-free burrito truck."

"That was a solid concept!"

"Sure, babe, and so was the dog psychic hotline. Listen-this one's different. Big payout. No money, just... food."

That gave Sasha pause.

"...How much food?"

Kara leaned forward, her voice low and dramatic. "I'm talkin' about a whole warehouse full. Cooked. Prepped. Seasoned. Wrapped. Enough to feed a small nation... or, you know, three very determined fatties."

There was silence on the line. Then Sasha sighed heavily.

"Text me the details," she said, "but if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you when I end up back in court."

"That's the spirit," Kara said, grinning as she ended the call. She dropped the phone onto the couch cushion beside her, looked down at the blueprints again, and rubbed her hands together.

"Just one more time," she whispered to herself. "Let's make it count."

She slapped both hands on her ample thighs and let out a long and satisfied-sounding sigh that echoed through the cluttered room. She could already taste all of those succulent and fattening meals dancing across her tongue, the thrill of knowing she was doing something so taboo and devious-yet so deliciously gratifying.

She leaned back, arms stretched over the back of the couch, letting her belly spill forward like a satisfied kingpin basking in the glow of a long-awaited comeback.

"This is it," she said to herself. "We're finally getting the gang back together!"