I once met a man named Rooster Starkinton. He was my best friend. Little did I know of his hidden motives for being my friend. See, years before I found myself upon a small fortune. My father left me his company after he died, and I sold it for 3 billion dollars. Yeah, I know I said small, but to Rooster, it wasn’t enough. He asked for things all the time. “Little favors,” he called them. Once he asked for a brand new Rolls Royce for his birthday. He threatened to steal one if I didn’t give him one. Rooster was a thorn in my behind and I needed to get rid of him. So I devised a plan to lure him into a trap. He didn’t know it yet, but he was going to be robbing a bank…