Being a world class thief meant having a diverse portfolio of skills in a variety of areas. The best thieves all had thousands of abilities in common, but they all specialized in their own area as well. About ninety of us had come to Rio this year, flying in from all corners of the world. The main challenge was simple – we would form teams of three, strip to our underwear with nothing else, and then con and thieve our way to as many riches as possible in twenty-four hours. All of us looked forward to the competition – it was friendly fun, and we made sure to only take from those who deserved it. At the end of the twenty-four hours, the group that had accumulated the items of greatest value were declared the champions, and then all the goods were fenced off so that the money could be used to fund the impoverished of the target city.
It was 6PM on August 5th, and all ninety of us were gathered together in a dark alley of eastern Rio, just a few miles from the ocean. We had stripped down, and gotten into our prearranged groups. The three of us were comfortable with each other, confident in our abilities. I was the best conman of three – over the past decade, I had made a huge (obviously undisclosed) fortune through a variety of schemes that had gotten me into the number eight slot on the FBI’s most wanted list. Alex and Leon were the more subtle thieves – Leon was easily one of the best lock-picks in the world, whereas Alex was a multi-talented generic cat burglar with a renowned knack for sneaking his way into numerous vaults with allegedly top notch security.
As we were dressed like hobos, the first necessity was clothing – the classier the better. We were in one of the better neighborhoods of Rio, and there was no doubt that their houses would serve us well. Within the hour, we each had suits worth thousands of dollars and had managed to snag a Ferrari and a Camaro between the three of us, all without being seen. The next matter of importance was art – the art was always the first to disappear with the world’s top ninety thieves in town, and this year we were going to be the team to snag some of the best of it.
The nice thing about the Rio Olympics was the fact that the city was remarkably under-prepared. We were cruising our way to the Museum of Modern Art, home to a few of Picasso’s great works, at far above the speed limit, and the local police force was to busy striking to stop us even as we sped past one of their protests. Within minutes, we were at the museum and ready to run the heist that we had been planning for a month. The three of us strolled in, looking like lavish business men in our exorbitant suits. The museum closed at 9PM, but the security remained there throughout the night – except for the fifteen minute shift change at midnight, which was plenty for us to rob them blind. As the museum cleared out at 8:50 PM, we snuck into an ventilation pipe from one of the bathrooms and crawled our way to the most expensive exhibit in the museum. By 11:30, we were all in place, simply waiting silently for the shift change.
The night was a success. We ran off with $34 million of art, and not a single soul was able to see us do it. The Olympics were off to a great start. We slept in a conned hotel room until noon, then snuck out again to rob some more rich people blind. By the time our first twenty four hours were up, we were up to $44 million in art, jewelry, and cold hard cash. It was time to fence off al...
The night was a success. We ran off with $34 million of art, and not a single soul was able to see us do it. The Olympics were off to a great start. We slept in a conned hotel room until noon, then snuck out again to rob some more rich people blind. By the time our first twenty four hours were up, we were up to $44 million in art, jewelry, and cold hard cash. It was time to fence off all the items, a process that normally would take months if not years – but when the best thieves came to a city, so did all of the fences. By the time the sun set, we had almost $45 million in cash sitting in briefcases in the back of our car. Now was the really, really fun part.
The tradition had a simple and clean origin – thieves naturally had a guilt conscience, so of course we did everything we could to clear it. The three of us had garnered the most cash, but the other twenty-nine teams had gotten their fair share of riches, too – each group had added at least $2 million to the pot, and some of us even tossed in some of our money from other expenditures. Around midnight, we found ourselves sitting in a dark alley of Rio de Janiero with $300 million in front of us – enough to supply all of the ~1000 slum districts of Rio with $300,000 – enough for them to help out their poorest.
It had been a great few days, and we had done something awesome with them. Our most successful Swindlympics yet got to help the people of one of the worst managed cities in the world, and we were remarkably proud of it.