~A badly lit stretch of road within Austin is seen. Slightly ahead on the left is what appears to be a run down service station. A few lots over is a dilapidated junkyard, crammed with ratty cars, discarded tires, obsolete appliances and twisted heaps of metal. There's strong but quiet sense of emptiness here, lingering like ivy in the night.
What windows are left in the garage are boarded up and the small parking lot is choked with weeds and dried brush. The pole sign is rusty and the lighted section is hanging loosely from the top of the steel pole. Several beat up and crummy looking cars are parked haphazardly in the bays.
A "woody" station wagon pulls into the lot, lights off. It drives slowly around to the back of the lot, where a small one-car garage is seen. This garage is equally run-down, with peeling paint and blacked out windows. Several dingy toolboxes lay around, opened to show decrepitude and neglect. The car stops in front of the small garage.
Vinnie hops out of the car, and twists the knob on the garage door; and it opens with surprising ease. Vinnie jumps back in the car and drives it into the enclosure, and the door shuts behind the car. The camera follows Vinnie inside the garage.
Vinnie sits on a rolling stool, staring at the car. As the camera adjusts to the light, the inside of the car is seen. An exceptionally large pile of money litters the inside of the car. From the looks of things, Vinnie has hit an armored van.
Vinnie takes his gaze off the car and looks around the inside of the garage. One wall is covered in shelves and shelves of books, all very well organized and cared for. In one corner, strapped to a moving dolly, is a suit of armor. The armor's breastplate is painted with insignia implying a religious connection of some sort. The next wall holds a small locked standing tool chest. Next to the tool chest is a workbench with hemostats, tweezers, an engraver's block and chisel set, a brayer block, brayer and several vices.
Hanging prominently by a scarlet ribbon on a pegboard next to the engraver's block is a large pair of stainless steel scissors. The metal is highly polished, and the scissors are the only tools on this pegboard. For the briefest of moments, Vinnie's eyes glint back at him from the reflective surface of the metal tool.
Vinnie's gaze moves back and forth between the money, the suit of armor, and the scissors. He begins talking in darkness in a low voice.
"'There are many paths to ultimate knowledge'; that's what you always said. 'Use the available tools and your surroundings to your advantage.' 'Be aware and think clearly'. 'Disguise your desires in your duty'.
There is a distinct rhythm to Vinnie's speech, a rising and falling with a strange sort of expressiveness; almost a benediction.
"I'm aware that this temptation could be my downfall. Moving past who I was before and making something new is tougher than I ever guessed. Evolution as I truly understand it takes more than just knowledge; it takes application. The question is, do I apply what I know, or do I see what else I can learn?"
Vinnie's eyes linger longingly upon the pile of money in the car and then back to the engraver's tools. He seems to shake off a heavy thought as he gets up from the stool. He opens the car door and grabs fistfuls of money, deliberately handling every piece he can get his hands on. He carefully crawls around the back of the car, grabbing up the cash, counting it into nice; neat stacks. He opens and closes the various doors of the wagon from inside and out, making obvious pains to touch nearly every surface of the vehicle as he does so. He opens and closes the glove box, the console, plays with the radio, and fiddles with the shifter. Vinnie then goes about leaving the garage and locking it up, and drives back towards Austin.
Roughly counted, there is $11,000. Very rough, considering the sheer volume of change in numerous deposit bags that lay in a couple layers beneath the cash in the back of the Woodson/Woody. A decent haul, but a small, and short-sighted goal if he ever saw one.
We see Vinnie drive to a well lit Wal-Mart, and park the car under a light. He walks away from the car and continues traveling for several blocks, finally finding a pay phone. Vinnie plunks in the required coins, waits for a connection, and speaks clearly and briefly.
Vinnie's dark eyes briefly glitter in the reflection bounced off the glass of the phone booth as he reports a car full of money in a Wal-Mart parking lot.
I would just like to take this opportunity to point out that I am not Vinnie.
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