The mid-morning sun shone brightly through the thoroughly modern webbed-glass and white steel-beamed roof onto the shiny marble floors, freshly waxed and polished the prior night by dutiful cleaning crews. Rows of desks bedecked with the latest design in office lamps and LCD computers screens sat crisply among the signage and banners informing customers of the latest interest rates, saving bonds information and other banking products. Portraits of the financial institution’s founders, dating back over 100 years, sat high and mighty on the cherry-wood walls. The two-story atrium-style bank branch was an airy place, providing ample natural light that kept some twenty bank tellers, ten private bankers and milling customers alike in good spirits on any given day. The proud bank building was an historic structure saved from demolition, modernized and now next to, and connected to, the 40-story Kelly Monaco Building whose construction was completed only two years ago. The KM Building was constructed to house the writers and other staff of the shows, “General Hospital, Night Shift” and “GH, Private Practice.”

“I want everyone to remain quiet and don’t move an inch!” Caroline firmly reminded over twenty stunned bank customers who sat helpless, bound and gagged as two other gunman kept guard and three others forced tellers and other bank employees into a back room. As the ringleader, Caroline was the first female in history to lead such a bold heist. The men she lead were making quick work emptying teller drawers of cash and taking valuables from safe deposit boxes. “I’m making progress with the manager getting into the secondary vault,” Frederick informed Caroline into her earpiece.

The police and SWAT had surrounded the building and blocked off all means of escape. However, this courageous crew that had been planning this bank bust for over a year, had access to several get-away cars placed in strategic locations around the neighborhood, a move meant to thwart the tight ring the police were expected to have placed around the bank.

“How’s it coming, Joe?” Caroline asked of the crew’s expert safecracker as he toiled in the banks main vault, sweating eagerly to gain access to millions and millions of dollars in bearer bonds. “It’s taking a little longer than I thought, but I think it should be only a couple of more minutes,” the adrenaline-pumped thief nervously informed Caroline. Meanwhile, bound and tied bank customers and tellers, ordinarily buzzing among themselves with the trappings of deposits and withdrawals, sat helpless, the knowledge they were in this together the only means of comfort during such a traumatic experience.

Time passed at a snail’s pace for kidnapped depositors and bank staff, minutes weighing on them like hours. Unbeknownst to the helpless hostages, however, they could already smell the end of the well-laid plans of these professional baddies. Tellers were the first to notice a change in the air as they sat blindfolded on the floor; eyesight disabled but not their sense of smell. Ordinarily, the bank’s modern ventilation system piped in fresh air from the outside, its industrial strength filters removing toxins and other odors that dared creep in; the resulting fresh indoor air was an odorless comfortable 68 degrees. To the tellers, the disruption of routine in their olfactory senses was a clear as the bank robbers in their presence.

The women among them were the first to make the connection. “I smell Nivea skin moisturizer,” a 25-year old teller whispered to another through her mouth gag. “I know, it’s really weird, it just started, a strong lotiony smell. I have the same stuff at home” the other teller responded. The robbers were too busy to notice until….THUD….THUD….THUD. Pictures on the walls began to sway off-center as computer screens bounced and stray pens and pencils rolled off desks onto the floor. Joe, the master safecracker momentarily paused from his blowtorch at the vault, curious as to what might be causing the shaking. Remembering that one of his colleague was supposed to be applying a sledgehammer to one of the vaults, Joe returned to his loud torch, ignoring the rumble.

“What….? Who…? Oh…my….god!” Caroline gasped, machine gun dropping to her side as the bright sun beaming in from the clear glass ceiling above abruptly gave way to partial darkness. A stunned Caroline could only watch, mouth gaping, beholding what those in blindfolds could not.

IS THIS IT? Joanne asked the police as she peered in through the pretty glass top of the low-rise bank structure. Joanne’s big brown eyes gazed in over the crime scene like twin suns, larger-than-life lashes fluttering like giant brushes against the glass. From Joann’s vantage point, she could see everyone in the bank, even those in back offices since the clear roof extended the entire width and length of the building. Kneeling down on the adjacent street, the 120’ Joanne placed her feet and knees among vehicles and trees, resting her long arms and hands on the roof of the bank, her limbs seemingly wrapping around the glass dome. Office workers high up in the attached Kelly Monaco Bldg peered down in amazement as Joanne made herself at home among all the chaos. Momentarily uncomfortable, Joanne adjusted her right foot on the street, a loose big toe colliding with a car, partially crushing in its roof and popping its tires. OOOPSY!

As Joanne studied all the people in the bank, whom, from her vantage looked like gerbils in a cage, Joanne fingered the roof, looking to pick apart windowpanes to gain access inside. As she felt for cracks, her fingertips scrolling the glassy landscape that sealed the mayhem inside, a helicopter approached, hovering just above Joanne’s brunette-ness. Joanne watched as hooks were lowered as at the same time she located a space from which to peel back one glass roof panel. With one large pane in hand, Joanne managed to fasten it to the hook, the helicopter flying off, leaving a ten-foot by ten-foot opening for Joanne to reach into, just enough space for one hand to fit.

Smiling with satisfaction, Joanne spotted the safecracker Joe, donned in conspicuous thievery attire as he fruitlessly huddled under a desk that sat conveniently within eyeshot and reach of the humongous Hollywood heroine. Slowly, carefully, Joanne placed her fingers in the roof’s opening, then the rest of her hand as her wrist, then arms descended their way down the opening until her man-sized fingers made contact with the maculate-free marble floor, each digit standing the height of an average person as Joanne “walked” two of them along the floor in the direction of the cowering thief, gigantic fingerprints impressing on the shiny surface. WOW, THIS FEELS JUST LIKE PLAYING DOLLHOUSE, Joanne boomed from high above as she moved desks and chairs with one finger. Joe watched in terror as the tall ladyfingers waltzed their way in his direction, and then tapped abruptly on the desk from which he hid behind. Looking up at the ceiling, Joanne’s imposing and beautiful face filled his vision, Joe frozen with disbelief. Then, with the quickness of a snapping rubber band, Joanne snatched the man by the collar, lifting the screaming thief high in the air, the ambitious robber disappearing from view as he ascended through the roof’s opening.

NOW, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? Joanne marveled as she held the man in her left hand, the sound of cheering police officers and bystanders on nearby streets and sidewalks accompanying the man’s useless pleas to be let go. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just put me down,” the man begged. Joanne smiled, taking her time to enjoy the monster-movie-like experience. Spotting a machinegun fastened across his shoulders, Joanne snapped it from him with the fingers on her right hand, placing the tiny gun in her shorts pocket. NOW, HOW TOUGH DO YOU FEEL NOW, MR. BANK ROBBER? Joanne teased. I BET IT MUST FEEL SO UNFAIR TO BE BUSTED THIS WAY. I MEAN, IMAGINE, TELLING ALL THOSE BIG GUYS IN PRISON THAT A GIRL STOPPED YOU, Joanne purred as she relished the fun. “Please, put me down!” the man cried. Joanne giggled as she lowered the thief to the street between two police cars, the cops eagerly cuffing the suspect as Joanne watched in satisfaction.

The cheering crowds and words of gratitude from the police bought the remaining robbers some time to escape, leaving the many hostages to fend for themselves as they sat clueless behind blindfolds in deep vaults, unaware of the enormous help that recently showed up. Caroline and her crew dashed down a sub-basement stairwell leading to subterranean pathways along the sewer system, where they emerged a block away, get away car ready and waiting, just outside the police barricades.

As Joanne peered back into the bank building, framing her eyes with her hands as she studied the activity inside, examining all the people to determine who else was among the guilty, a loud squeal and a bang managed to creep far up into her ears. The other five robbers sat crammed in a large sedan as it howled, screeched and strained furiously to vacate the scene. Joanne and the authorities at her feet were quick to turn their heads as bystanders pointed and heckled at the cowardly capers in the getaway car.

The police, who ordinarily would not have spared a half second to pursue the vehicle, watched with contentment as Joanne gracefully turned her head, smiling in fun; she and everyone were caught up in the anticipation of what Joanne had in store for the hopelessly fleeing vehicle. “Move it!” one criminal shouted to the driver as the automobile found its sea legs on the multi-laned street, hundreds of bystanders gawking. Joanne watched from high, her eyes following he vehicle as easily as her feet would in just a minute as she plotted her course, registering all the obstacles in her way; people, parked cars and other streetscape. BOOM – Joanne extended her enormous left leg over the mass of squad cars beside her, placing her left foot solidly in the street. BOOM Her right leg swung like a crane, positing her right foot adjacent the other, all ten toes in a row, wrapped in leather sandals set to pursue.

THUD, THUD, THUD. Joanne’s gentle stride brought her past lines of people on sidewalks cheering her on. “Jo-anne! Jo-anne! Jo-anne!” was shouted along with “You Go Girl!” as the starlet breezed by, leaving in her wake the pretty and effervescent aroma of Nivea body lotion and moisturizes along with the occasional crack in the pavement. “Oh My God! She’s Coming!” the robbers shouted among themselves as they looked out the back window. The phrase, “Objects In Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear” etched on the side rearview mirrors was comically accurate. Joanne’s feet could have been Mack Trucks; her freshly painted and polished toes, each seemingly smiling into the car at the exasperated escapees. The driver took his eyes off the road as he watched Joanne’s left foot ascend above and over the car and onto the street before him, the heel of her foot dropping like a boulder, planted like a redwood mere yards ahead of him, the ABS brakes slamming as the car skidded to a halt, Joanne’s imposing legs towering above the five doomed passengers, the large sedan sitting like nothing more than a cornered mouse far below the tightly sewn seams of Joanne’s stylish white beach shorts, its attached trendy black belt and shiny buckle screaming style down to the quivering crime suspects. Quick on her feet, Joanne shuffled them so as to block the doors, sealing the people’s fate in walls of soft skin. Joanne leisurely primped her hair and adjusted her clothing for comfort as she smiled in anticipation of the enjoyment afforded her by the fact that these criminals need to be humbled.

Waving to bystanders who cheered her on, Joanne slowly reached down between her feet with her right hand, as jaw-droppingly long fingers seemed to swallow the car. Joanne gripped the vehicle, eclipsing any natural light its occupants enjoyed. The robbers screamed in a fit as they tried to open doors and roll down windows. Airsickness overcame them and their stomachs churned from the sudden and forceful motion of Joanne lifting the car off the ground.

Joanne slowly brought the vehicle to her face, taking in deep breaths, visualizing herself as ‘Prisha’ since the film crew and every news camera in the world were recoding every move and she was determined to get every frame right for the final edition of “Prisha’ s Travels – The Movie.”

Placing the car in her open left hand as she positioned it in front of her eyes, sunlight again graced its occupants. Only Joanne’s lovely lush lashes won attention over the baking sun’s yellowy disposition. Joanne tapped on the driver’s window with one of her right hand fingers. The disturbing sound rattled the robbers as they fumbled in their seats. HEY PEEPS, NICE DAY, ISN’T IT? Joanne beamed. NOW ROLL DOWN YOUR WINDOW. A gentle breeze filled the air as the driver nervously complied, the wind tussling Joanne’s hair, several strands resting on the car, two strands reaching inside as it tangled with the driver.

“You’re the greatest, Joanne!” a man far below on the nearby sidewalk yelled high up. Joanne rolled her eyes in delight.

NOW, ALL OF YOU IN THE CAR WILL CALL ME ‘PRISHA’ SINCE YOU ARE NOW MY CO-STARS AND FILMING IS TAKING PLACE THIS SECOND. WHENEVER YOU SPEAK TO ME, IT’S ‘YES, PRISHA.’ WE HAVE TO GET THIS SCENE RIGHT OR WE’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO START ALL OVER, Joanne warned. “We give up!” one of the criminals in the backseat offered loudly. Joanne laughed. YOU GAVE UP THE MINUTE I LAID EYES ON THAT BANK BACK THERE. YOU JUST DIDN’T KNOW IT THEN, Joanne giggled as she eyed the back of the car. WELL, FIRST, FORK OVER THE CASH AND OTHER CRAP YOU STOLE FROM PEOPLE! “It’s in the trunk, I’ll open it,” the driver responded as he reached for the lever at his feet. ARE YOU FORGTETING SOMETHING? Joanne playfully gasped. The driver was baffled and taken off-guard. HELLO?!@? Joanne up-talked, mouth gaping in mock disbelief. “Um, it’s in the trunk, I’ll open it…Prisha,” the driver humbly corrected. However, before his fingers felt the knob, the roar and rip of the trunk’s top being peeled off sent shivers down the thieves’ spines, Joanne separating the hinges from the car and tossing the metal scrap to the street below.

YOU PEOPLE ARE SO CHEAP. YOU HELD UP A BANK FOR THIS? Joanne held five garbage bags full of cash in her right hand. THIS IS POCKET CHANGE, Joanne poked fun before kneeling down to place the stolen loot on the street next to a police car. Rising again to her full height, Joanne scolded, YOU THINK BECAUSE YOU HAVE GUNS YOU CAN TAKE ADVANTAGE OF PEOPLE? NOW, WHAT WOULD PEOPLE THINK IF I DECIDED TO, LET’S SAY, PLAY GODZILLA RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF 'PRISHA'? YA KNOW, IF I KNOCKED OVER THIS BUILDING WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE INSIDE? Joanne reached over and placed her free hand on a neighboring building’s roof to illustrate. OR I BREATHED FIRE AND TRASHED PEOPLE’S CARS? Joanne contemplated to the dumbfounded criminals in her hand as a frown formed on her face. I WOULD BE SOO, LIKE, UNPOPULAR, THAT’S WHAT? BUT I’M MUCH NICER…AND I DON’T HAVE A SCALY TAIL, EITHER, Joanne joked, smile re-merging. SMOOTHER SKIN, TOO.

Having completed the business end of the filming, Joanne wanted to finish the scene with some spunk. NOW, IT’S QUIZ TIME. MESS THIS ONE QUESTION UP AND YOU’RE GONNA SPEND THE AFTERNOON FILMING MORE SCENES WITH ME IN THIS CRAMPED, STEAMY HOT CAR. GET IT RIGHT AND THE COMFORT OF A COZY JAIL CELL AWAITS YOU. UNDERSTAND? Joanne instructed as she playfully frowned. “Yes, Prisha!” the thieves replied in chorus.

The sounds of helicopters buzzing overhead and the occasional police car siren yelping were the only noises for miles. Thousands of people still lined sidewalks and stared intently from building windows and rooftops to witness the star-studded crime stopper in action. QUESTION – WHICH FAMOUS BRAZILIAN JUST GOT DONE FILMING YET ANOTHER MAYBELINE COMMERCIAL? The car’s occupants consulted one another as Joanne took in her surroundings, smiling and waving to onlookers. “Joanne!” The driver confidently answered. Joanne smiled. The driver smiled in satisfaction in return. YOU ARE SOO……WRONG! ADRIANA LIMA IS THE RIGHT ANSWER. UMPH! COME ON, PEOPLE! JOANNE’S A FAN OF REVLON, Joanne mocked.

Joanne looked down at street level, spotting the ‘Prisha’s Travel’ film and production crews at the next intersection, cameras rolling. HEY, WE GOT SOME CO-STARS FOR THE DAY, Joanne laughed down to them as she dangled the car in her fingers.