I used to steal money to buy candy bars, but I never stole candy bars. I'm notproud of it. The sugar buzz was a nice perk, but that wasn't the reason I did it.I didn't really even need the money. I stole money just for the sheer thrill. Theadrenaline, the excitement, it was all beyond description. Soon that wasn'tenough. I stole more, bought more, acquired the largest collection of candy barsin the county, in the world. It was my trademark. I was the Sweet Tooth Raider,Scourge of the 7-Eleven. I was the best, and the only place to go wasup.
I started small, picking a pocket here, swiping some loose changethere. As my skills increased, I moved on to bigger game. Before long, I was thebest. I could steal the shirt off your back, the words from your mouth. Isingle-handedly toppled 16 monarchies, defeated every security system devised byman, simply because I could. I was both hated and revered. For everything Istole, I left a candy-bar wrapper in its place. It was my mark. None daredchallenge me, for I would steal their worldly possessions, their money, theirproperty, their teeth, sometimes, if I felt like it, their souls. I would leavethem penniless, pointless and lifeless.
There seemed no end. I stolethe moon, the planets, the stars, even space. And finally, I stole the veryessence of the universe itself.
That was it. Reality unwound itself,the fabric of space was unraveled, the laws of nature were repealed. Icy flameslashed the cosmos. Everything that was, was not, and everything that was not,was. Worlds exploded, collapsed or bounced around the universe like ping-pongballs. Some did all three, some multiple times. I had taken something that wasnever to be had. All of creation ceased to be.
But I never stole any candybars. That would be wrong.
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