"Hey, over here!" Timmy called, weaving through the crowd in the busy mall.

"Hey! Should we buy some clothes for the party?" he asked, eyeing a rack of designer shirts.

"Sure! This shirt looks stunning on you with those pants," Jimmy replied, holding up a sleek, dark shirt that matched perfectly. "Let me just call my friend to pick us up, and we’ll change in the bathroom at the party so no one will question us. But wait—what if they find us? Do we need to cook up a story?"

"Let’s just have a drink and forget about it for now!" (Woop, woop—the sound of police sirens cut through the air, loud and unmistakable.)

"Guys... hide so they won’t find us!" Timmy whispered, his heart pounding like a drum.

A police officer appeared, eyes scanning the room. "Put your hands where I can see them," he commanded, his voice as cold as ice. "One of you stole a shirt and pants. Put your hand up if you did it!"

(No one raises their hand.)

The officer narrowed his eyes. "If you admit to stealing the shirt and pants, it’ll just be a slap on the wrist, but if you don’t, the penalty will be much worse."

(Two hours later)

Jimmy pulled Timmy into the crowded bathroom, their footsteps echoing off the tile. They were moving too fast and accidentally bumped into the party hostess, who was carrying a drink. Red raspberry juice splashed all over Jimmy’s shirt.

"Great," Jimmy muttered under his breath. Now, he couldn’t return the clothes and was facing serious consequences: two years in jail for committing two crimes—stealing clothes and lying to a police officer. They had gotten in too deep, and now, it was time to pay the piper.

They both tried to sneak out through the bathroom window but were caught red-handed by another police officer on the lookout for a suspect.

(Two years later)

"I don’t even know how we survived that," Jimmy said, shaking his head, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Timmy grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Want to get some new cl