Our story begins when Florida man John Robin Whittle stopped by his local bar one day and ordered a beer. But before finishing his drink, he decided to take care of something else he had on his to-do list that day: robbing a freaking bank. So Whittle excused himself, left the bar and his half-finished beer and went to get his federal offense on.
"You'd better move it. If my beer goes flat, I'm coming back."
Whittle calmly walked around the corner to a nearby Wells-Fargo and cleaned the place out. So then it was time to hightail it out of there, right? This is when you jump into your carefully parked getaway car and haul ass straight to Mexico. But Whittle couldn't do that. He had unfinished business that took priority over his own freedom.
And when we say "unfinished business," you can replace the second word with "beer." Whittle remembered the fact that he had left half of a beer sitting at the bar, and went back to finish it.
"Now there's a man who looks like he just robbed a bank. Welcome back, John."
The police took all of 10 minutes to find Whittle at the bar, realize that he fit eyewitness descriptions of the perp and notice that he was lugging around huge sacks with dollar signs printed on them. Whittle's response as to why he went back to the bar when he could have at least given it the old college try and wound up on World's Wildest Police Chases was that he "wouldn't let a good beer go to waste."
"I'll do an extra five to 10 if you pass me them bar nuts over there."
We hope it was at least one of those fancy microbrews and not, like, a Milwaukee's Best or something.
Quick! You need a hundred bucks, right now. What do you do? Well, let's see ... You could beg a family member to loan you the dough until they cave in. Or pawn your TV. Or maybe you could fake your own kidnapping, pretend to be the kidnapper and demand a $100 ransom from your family.
The mastermind behind this fake kidnapping is a South Carolina man named Christopher Hutto. You see, Hutto came up with the idea to con his own mother by sending her texts -- from his own phone, no less -- that said her son had been badly beaten and his body dumped in the woods. The texts then demanded the princely sum of $100 to reveal the location of the body.
"And an extra 30 bucks if you want the shirt, too."
Hutto's mother immediately reacted as any loving parent would when confronted with the very real possibility of losing their child: by negotiating the ransom from $100 down to $60.
Hutto, who had presumably seen his mother participate in many a yard sale price negotiation over the years and knew he was outclassed, agreed to the amount and gave her a location where she could drop off the loot. But Dr. Fake Kidnapper, Ph.D., realized that his so carefully thought-out plan had gone awry when he showed up at the scene to pick up his measly 60 bucks and found the police there waiting. Hutto took off, but was apparently almost as good at running as he was at masterminding crime, because he was caught after a brief foot chase.
"Time out, time out!"
The police theorize that Hutto wanted to score some drugs with his illicit proceeds. Which sounds strange, because it seems to us that you'd have to already be tripping balls the size of Jupiter to come up with that plan in the first place.
In this article's predecessor, we talked about Guita Sazan Silverstein, the woman who locked her son in a hot car and then refused to allow authorities to bust him out because she didn't want her car to suffer a broken window. Well, the story we're about to tell you makes Silverstein look like a regular Carol Brady.
Young German parents Annika and Daniel were planning to attend a concert, but apparently neither of them were familiar with the admittedly complex concept of "finding a damn baby sitter." And so, recognizing their parental responsibilities but not wanting the tickets to go to waste, the married couple decided to each see a separate half of the concert so that 8-month-old Anton would be under the constant supervision of a loving parent. Then they thought "Naaahhh" and locked him in the trunk of their car instead.
"Thanks, honey. Now hop up in there. One way or another, Mommy is getting on the news tonight."
Now, lest you think that Anton's parents didn't care about their son's well-being, it's important to note that to ensure his safety, they went to such drastic measures as "parking in the shade" and "leaving the window open a little." Then, satisfied that their baby boy's health was secure inside a trunk that was reportedly filled with soiled diapers, uneaten food and dirty laundry (to keep him well-fed and to cushion him against bumps and scrapes, surely), Annika and Daniel skipped away hand-in-hand to see the show.
"If not wanting a baby to mess up our roll is a crime, then lock us u- wait, it is? Shit."
Thankfully, some people passing by heard the baby crying and notified the police, who then smashed into the car to rescue Anton and sent him to the hospital. When an announcer at the concert asked the parents to identify themselves, Annika and Daniel refused to come forward, presumably pointing at the people beside them while trying to look all innocent. It's almost as if they weren't entirely confident in their decision to lock a baby in a car trunk for the duration of a concert that was to last, uh, seven goddamned hours.
For more people who don't have their head screwed on straight, check out The 7 Most Ridiculous Cases of Misplaced Priorities. Or discover the people who screwed their heads back on in 6 People Who Turned a Life of Crime Into Legitimate Careers.
And stop by LinkSTORM because it's where everyone hangs out on Friday.
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