Blackadder Robs the British Museum
“This way,” The tall gangly man shined his flashlight upon the map he held. He stopped, tilted his head before turning the map upside down and nodded happily, “Sorry chaps, it’s actually this way.”
“George,” the shorter black-haired man addressed the other. “How you managed to talk me into making you navigator for this heist will only be eclipsed by how you managed to talk me into entering the sewer in the first place.”
“I told you, Blackadder,” George squinted and shined the light in the dark to try and see where he was going. “I examined all the entrances and blueprints. And this is absolutely the best way to break into the British Museum.”
A short bespectacled man laden down with a backpack just as tall as him piped up from the back, “Could be worse, sir.”
Blackadder spared a look back, “And how could that be, Baldrick?”
“We could be very high up,” Baldrick explained. “Least this way there’s no way we could fall.”
There was a shout of surprise followed by a loud splash behind Blackadder and George.
“Baldrick, did you just fall?” Blackadder asked while staring at the ceiling in exasperation before chancing a glance behind.
“Yes, I did, sir,” Baldrick called back as he stood himself up and wadded back onto the floor. “Not to worry. I didn’t swallow any of that nasty water.”
“Oh, good,” Blackadder looked away with indifference.
“Yup, luckily there was a bit of manure there when my mouth hit the water. So, I only ended up swallowing that.”
“You know?” George turned back, raising a finger and wagging it. “Baldrick brings up a good point.”
“Really?” Blackadder asked. “I expected Baldrick to be into eating manure, but I thought you had your head screwed on a bit tighter than that, George.”
“No, not that,” George waved him away. “The part about being high up. I’ve just remembered there’s a skylight on the top of the British Museum that’s big enough to fit through and inexplicably unguarded.”
“So, you’re telling me,” Blackadder asked. “That instead of this disgusting and moist sewer, we so lovingly explored for the past 2 hours; we could have just gone up the side of the British Museum and got in through the window?”
“Yes, bit silly error of me I know,” George cheerfully responded.
“The silliest,” Blackadder rolled his eyes.
“Ahh, here’s the door,” George shined his light upon an old rusty door at the top of some stairs.
“That’s a rather large padlock there,” Baldrick commented.
“Oh dear,” George approached and squatted down to examine it. “How are we going to get through this?”
“I have a cunning plan, sir,” Baldrick announced, stepping right behind Blackadder.
“And what would that be, Baldrick?” Blackadder asked. His nose wrinkled and he took a step away from the man.
“Why don’t we knock, and ask to be let in?”
“You want us to knock on the door of the museum we’re robbing; while all the guards are at the mandatory funeral for the queen; ask the nonexistant guards, who are not there, if they could let us in so we may proceed with our plan to ransack the artifacts and sell them back to their respected countries, netting us a tidy sum in the process?” Blackadder looked down at Baldrick, “Did I get all that?”
“Yes.”
“Alright…” Blackadder sighed and rolled his eyes again. “I think it might just be a tad simpler if you just get out the bolt cutter I had you pack.”
“Oh, alright.”
George took the offered item and snipped the padlock off. He removed the piece of metal and shoved the door open revealing a boiler and other janitorial supplies.
“This is the Boiler room,” George explained. “Just past those doors, down the hall, and up the stairs will bring us to the main lobby.”
“Ok, now remember,” Blackadder explained as they hurried down the hall towards the stairs. “Funerals are lengthy affairs but even royal ones have their limits. We need to grab as much as we can before it ends.” They climbed the final stairs and looked around as Blackadder continued, “I doubt we’ll get everything but the more we take the more we can sell.”
“Well, maybe we can ask those chaps for some help?” George asked, pointing to two people in ski masks walk by carrying a marble statue.
“What the-?” Blackadder asked himself as he watched them walk off. “Who the bloody hell are you!?”
“Παίρνουμε πίσω αυτά τα τεχνουργήματα, ρε Άγγλους ναρκωτικά” the man said, waving a hand in an away motion.
“What?” Blackadder asked the group as the men walked out the door.
“I believe that was Greek sir,” George explained. “My uncle Bernie took me on holiday there once.”
“If you are correct, and let’s be honest you probably aren’t,” Blackadder pointed towards the door. “But those were two Greeks carrying a Greek statue out of the museum. Those Bloody Greeks stole my idea!”
“And they’re going to sell it to themselves,” Baldrick nodded.
“Well, at least they won’t have to go far for the money exchange,” George nodded as well.
More men started to emerge from that wing of the museum carrying objects out the front door.
“Oh, great,” Blackadder turned away. “Looks like they’re taking the whole Greek exhibit with them.”
“What should we do, sir?” Baldrick asked.
“I guess we should start with the Egyptian exhibit,” Blackadder pointed towards another wing.
A few men emerged from that doorway carrying sarcophagi and mummies and made for the door.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Blackadder exclaimed. “This whole museum is filled with foreigners!”
“Egyptians, Chinese, Muslims,” George pointed towards more people exiting. “Boy, this is a jolly good show of solidarity against colonialism.”
He stepped closer to a man with a mummy, “Hear hear, old sport. Grabbing your cultural ravishings with both hands and replacing them in their rightful spots. I salute you!”
“Hear hear,” Baldrick cheered lacklusterly, clapping behind George.
Blackadder grabbed the two of them by their coats and dragged them away, “Will you two shut up!? We’re supposed to be the ones doing the stealing. Look split up and grab anything you can, there’s gotta be some country that didn’t plan the same heist as us.”
“Right,” George and Baldrick agreed before the three ran off in different directions.
A short time later, found Blackadder and George sitting on the steps in front of the British Museum. Blackadder sat with his head in his hands while George leaned back looking at the sky.
“Not a single artifact left,” Blackadder moaned. “I’m pretty sure they even vacuumed the bits of rock that fell off the statues.”
“Well, at least their back in their rightful spots,” George comments. “I mean, that’s what this has all been about in the first place.”
“No, George,” Blackadder sighed again. “This has been about becoming fabulously wealthy, but once again events seemingly conspire against me.”
“There you two are,” Baldrick called, exiting the building.
“Ah, Baldrick,” Blackadder waved without looking back. “I suppose it’d be too much to hope you managed to snag something.”
“I have indeed, sir,” Baldrick proudly announced. “It seems to be a glass box, possibly a sarcophagus where you can see the little mummy inside.”
“Is there a little plaque with some text on it?” Blackadder asked, never once looking behind him.
“Yes, sir. There is! How did you know?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble Baldrick, but that’s just a display case,” Blackadder explained. “No doubt, currently displaying how the inside of your head looks. Empty.”
“No, looks like we failed again fellows,” Blackadder waved at the empty street which once contained the hundreds of getaway vehicles. “The artifacts are back in their respective countries, and we have no financial compensation for it.”
“Hmm,” Baldrick hummed, “Sir, I have a cunning plan.”
“I almost shudder to ask, but what is it Baldrick,” Blackadder asked.
“Why don’t we take the display cases and sell them to the countries wot took their stuff?”
“Baldrick,” Blackadder winced and rubbed his head. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ev-”
Blackadder stopped and removed his hands from his head. He stood and looked back at the museum before turning to George.
Blackadder shrugged, “Worth a shot.”
