He stepped into The Jewelry Exchange, with his pistol, and it got real quiet.
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him in his disguise. He stood for a moment and bathed in their awe; posing just as he had practiced.
This was his stage.
This was his time.
When he felt he had shared just the right amount of awesomeness he tossed a gym bag to Imogene, the counter girl.
“Just the cash and the gemstones, darling, that’s all I want. The rest of you, stay calm… try to look beautiful.”
He watched the red letters tick across the signboard announcing the real-time price of gold, silver, and other precious commodities.
“Who are you?” Imogene whispered when she handed back the bag of loot, “Who does your eye makeup?”
He pointed his pistol at her chest and squeezed the trigger.
A stream of water darkened her black dress.
Mr. Timkins fainted and fell out of his chair.
The bunny bandit turned and left the way he had come in, ducking handily to avoid hitting his ears on the door-frame.
More than 100 but less than 2. Does that still qualify for inclusion?