Reverend Conehead
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In 1971, I was 7 years old and was visiting people in Portland, Oregon. Even at such a young age, I had a wanton lust -- a drooling greed -- for big bucks. So I stole my uncle's suit, some stilts, cigarettes, matches, and a micropoint felt-tip pen. I used the latter to make a bunch of black dots on my face to look like razor stubble. Then I went to the airport, wearing those stilts under my uncle's suit and bought a plane ticket to Seattle. Disguising my voice to be deep like an adult, I gave the fake name "Dan Cooper." They didn't do jack for security back then, so I was able to smuggle a briefcase containing a fake explosive device inside it, a battery, and some wires. They were really just road flares taped together with electrical tape. I hijacked the plane, demanding that they give me parachutes in Seattle and then fly me to Mexico City at a low altitude, slowly, with the flaps down. They gave me all the loot and set course for Reno (a refueling station). However, I jumped out with all my loot before then, and they've never found me. I had an accomplice, my friend Billy, pick me up in his dad's Ford Mustang and drive us all the way back to Texas. He was only 7 too, so it's lucky no cop pulled him over. But he knew how to drive because his dad taught him how on country roads.
When I got home, I spent some of the money on GI Joes, a Star Trek phaser, and a Dallas Cowboys football helmet. I only took about $6000 dollars with me. The rest of it I buried in separate places in Washington State in several packets of about $6,000 each. Over the years, when I needed money, I would travel back there and dig up a packet. There's one of them that I never found. I had originally buried it in one place, but then moved it near the Columbia river, but forgot that I put it there. In 1980, some kid dug it up. Annoying.
This has been weighing on my conscious for years. I even went to the FBI's office and confessed, but they laughed at me when they found out I was only 7. They underestimated what a bad-*** I was at 7.
When I got home, I spent some of the money on GI Joes, a Star Trek phaser, and a Dallas Cowboys football helmet. I only took about $6000 dollars with me. The rest of it I buried in separate places in Washington State in several packets of about $6,000 each. Over the years, when I needed money, I would travel back there and dig up a packet. There's one of them that I never found. I had originally buried it in one place, but then moved it near the Columbia river, but forgot that I put it there. In 1980, some kid dug it up. Annoying.
This has been weighing on my conscious for years. I even went to the FBI's office and confessed, but they laughed at me when they found out I was only 7. They underestimated what a bad-*** I was at 7.
