It’s been a long time coming, but after twenty years of masquerading as a devout Amish family, it’s time we rob this place blind and never look back. I happen to know that there’s a large sum of cash buried somewhere underneath where the Hershberger barn used to stand, and we’ve got a limited amount of time this morning to find the exact spot, retrieve the money, and hightail our way out of this god-forsaken hellhole.

When I arrived here more than twenty years ago, I calculated a six hour interval between Daniel Hershberger’s last trip to the barn at night and his eldest son’s first trip the following morning, but I couldn’t have possibly anticipated that they and the rest of the community would sell their land, leaving us juxtaposed to a strip mall spearheaded by a 24-hour Wal-Mart Supercenter. If my cartographic projections are precise, the money now rests below the Patio & Outdoor Décor section of the store.

What’s that, honey? Well, yes, of course this is the first time you’re hearing of this plan. You haven’t exactly been groomed as a thespian at the Tisch School of the Arts or trained by the CIA to resist aggressive interrogation techniques, now have you? Remember that night you decided to be hedonistic and smoke a cigarette, but then the next day your conscience won out and you confessed your sin to the entire community? We lost two goats for that little transgression.

Do you think my parents masqueraded as a happily married couple for thirty-six years because they loved each other? Or that my grandparents Charlestoned their asses off on the dance floor of the Cotton Club because they thought it was a fun thing to do on a Saturday night? Not a chance, babe.

Everything’s been carried out in preparation for this day, and I couldn’t have you blowing it with your scruples.

Now, the children will play integral roles in pulling off this heist. Jacob, Abigail, and Isaac – you three are the eldest next to Sarah, so you’ll be helping your mother and I drill through the Wal-Mart floor. For years I’ve been lacing your food with oral steroids in anticipation of this moment.

Sarah, since you’re eight months pregnant, your job is to ensure that the Wal-Mart staffers don’t get smart to our plan. I’m establishing a thirty foot perimeter and if anyone breaches it, you’re to lead them astray by acting extremely disoriented. Maybe feign confusion at the people trapped behind the big flat screens in Electronics – that’s pretty much the kind of behavior most Americans would expect from the Amish. If all else fails, go into labor.

Hannah and Josiah – I’m afraid you two are simply too young, and consequently, we’re leaving you behind. You’re deadweight to this operation. But don’t worry, sweethearts, we’ll leave you at the front of the store and you’ll ultimately find families that see you as more than fleshy inconveniences to a robbery attempt two decades in the works. Hopefully, anyway. To be honest, you’re both at that stage where you’re too young to contribute anything but too old to be endearing to anyone but a complete sap, so it’s entirely possible that one or both of you will end up in the foster care system. In any event, your presence at the front of the store will function as a temporary diversion, so maybe one day you’ll be able to glean satisfaction from knowing you weren’t completely useless to your fake Amish family.

As for the money, I don’t want to hear anyone whining about their fair share. We’re a family, even if it’s a family rooted in a shroud of secrecy, deceit, and poorly maintained livestock. Rest assured you’ll all be well provided for in our new life…though I must confess that I failed to factor in years of inflation when I made these plans, so the loot will be worth considerably less than what I initially envisaged.

But honey, kids, it’s time we get a move on. What? Wait…what? I don’t – no, we don’t have time to feed the pigs, honey. In a matter of hours we’ll be headed to the big city – effectively a pig-free zone – where we’ll spend our days drinking Coronas, sending our children to public schools, and frequenting underground sex clubs. Is there something you don’t understand about drilling into the surface of a 24-hour Wal-Mart Supercenter, digging out wads of cash, and riding off into the sunset?

Figuratively speaking, of course. We’ll need to be out well before sunset.

That reminds me, we need to tie the horses by the Lawn & Gardening section to ensure a hasty getaway. Now, hands in the middle. Successful Schrock family robbery – let’s all say it together on three…