“Seriously, this is your ‘secret weapon’?” Bobby asks the three men standing around the table.

Frank, the gang’s leader, grins back at him. “Damn right. See, kid, this is why we never get caught.”

Bobby just stares in bewilderment. Sitting on the table, placed on foam head stands like the ones used to model wigs and headphones, were four masks. But these weren’t like anything he’d seen at costume shops around Halloween. These looked like they were straight out of Mission Impossible, indistinguishable from real faces.

“Damn” Bobby mutters, reaching out and touching one of the mask’s straight blonde hair. “This is not what I expected.” He uses a finger to prod the fake nose, recoiling at how lifelike it feels.

“This is what sets us apart, kid.” Victor states. “We don’t get pinched like the other crews. As long as we do our jobs and get out, there is zero chance of the cops tracking us down if we’re wearing these babies.”

“But…why are they all women?” Bobby asks.

“Come on, kid, think about it” Frank replies. “Who’s gonna suspect a bunch of chicks are criminals?”

“Especially hot ones” Sal comments, with a laugh.

Bobby says “I guess you’re right. That’s real smart. And they’re good enough to fool people?”

Frank nods. “One hundred percent. The best money can buy. The material mimics real skin, the wigs are all human hair and there are even built-in voice changers in the necks.”

Bobby’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Frank shrugs. “Like I said, the best money can buy. It’s a no-brainer to drop twenty grand on a mask and suit if you can make half a mil’ doin’ a job. It’s called return on investment, my young friend.”

“Wait, what suit? Like a pant suit?”

Victor laughs. “Oh no” he replies. He opens one of the plastic containers on the table. Reaching inside, he pulls out what looks like the empty husk of a woman, complete with a lifelike pubic area and breasts. He turns it over, revealing its plump ass and an open seam with a skin-coloured zipper.

“Holy shit!” Bobby exclaims.

Victor smiles, then drops the suit back inside the container. He grabs a deflated foot, tucking in one of its legs before closing the lid.

“Yeah, it takes some gettin’ used to, but these disguises have been worth their weight in gold, kid. When you’ve got a few million in the bank because of these babies, you won’t mind dressing up in a sexy broad costume every once in a while.”

Bobby nods, liking the sound of that. A few million.

“So what’s it gonna be, kid?” Frank asks with a stern expression.

Bobby’s mind is made up. Besides, he thinks, it’s not like they can let me leave after showing me their big secret.

“Okay, boss. I’m in. Which one’s mine?”

Frank grins and slaps him hard on the shoulder. “Attaboy.”

Sal points to the farthest mask to the right. “That’s gonna be you, kid.”

Bobby walks over and leans forward, examining the utterly realistic mask carefully. The face is that of a very young woman, with a slightly rounded shape. A slender nose with a smattering of light freckles sits above a pair of full, pink lips. The mask’s medium-length auburn hair is brushed to the side, with soft bangs covering its forehead. The ends of the hair are dyed blonde, like whoever made the mask was going for a rebellious kind of style. Overall the mask had a cute, youthful appearance, but there was no denying that the girl he’d be impersonating definitely would turn some heads.

He looks up. “She looks like a teenager” he comments.

Frank grins, picking up a sheet of paper from a stack. “Molly Harper. Age nineteen, currently in university working on the side as a babysitter…it’s all here for you to memorize. Simple background details and shit.”

Bobby looks down at the papers. “Tricia Harper?” He asks, inquisitively, noticing the name on another sheet in the pile. This one has a picture of an attractive middle-aged woman, matching one of the masks.

Frank points at himself with his thumb. “That’ll be me, kid. We’re gonna do a mother-daughter thing. It’s foolproof. Nobody expects mommy and her baby girl to pull a gun” he says with a sneer. “Plus, I always like to partner up with the new guy on his first job.”

The leader turns to the rest of the group. “All right, gentlemen. This goes down in three days. Let’s go over the plan.”

After their long discussion, Victor walks over to the table and grasps “Molly’s” hair, tugging the mask off the stand. It flops around limply in his hands, her pretty face crumpling and folding in on itself grotesquely. He opens another container and drops the mask inside, then seals it shut. He picks it up and walks over to Bobby, handing it over.

“Here, kid. Take her home and practice wearing her before the big day.”

Bobby just nods, speechless. What have I gotten myself into?

THREE DAYS LATER

Bobby once again finds himself in the warehouse with the rest of the gang. It had been a very…interesting…few days. He’d spent hours dressed up as the youthful “Molly”, trying to get comfortable wearing her. The first time he’d tugged her soft, pale face down over his own had been one of the strangest experiences of his life. He’d opened his eyes to see her surprised face glancing back at him in the mirror. Her eye holes weren’t perfectly aligned at first pass, but after a little adjustment, the disguise was impeccable.

Suited up inside her slender but shapely body, he’d donned a casual outfit of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. He practiced speaking with his new, lighter voice, and he’d spent time in front of the mirror making all kinds of facial expressions.

Finally, he’d mustered the courage to go out in public. He strapped a backpack over his shoulders and made his way to the university campus, where he’d meandered about as “Molly” for a couple of hours. He’d gone to the library, ordered coffee and pretended to do school work sitting outside at a table. Molly had interacted with a half dozen or so people, and no one appeared to be able to tell she was a young man wearing an elaborate disguise. He’d even received a few flirtatious smiles from male students, and had to turn down one of them who’d asked if he could join her at the table.

Bobby had considered the outing to be a success, and was confident in his ability to impersonate the young woman for the job.

Now, he looks around the room at the ridiculous sight in front of him.

Sal, the shortest of the group, had been selected to disguise himself as an elderly-looking woman. Wearing only a special skin-coloured strap and skull cap, he lifts his leg into the slightly wrinkled, floppy suit in his hands. Bobby can see the “woman’s” sagging breasts and glances at the table next to Sal, where her empty face gapes on its stand, framed by frizzy grey hair.

Victor is a little farther along, and is currently yanking on his suit’s arm, having a bit of trouble getting it over his own. Finally, his fingers snap into place, and he repeats the process with his other limb. A pair of large breasts settle onto his chest, complimenting the suit’s rounded rear. Bobby guessed he was meant to impersonate an asian woman, based on the suit’s skin tone, and the theory was confirmed when Victor tugs his mask out of the container. Straight black hair hangs from the top of the head, and the face has a pretty set of almond-shaped eyes with a slim nose.

He turns and sees Frank, who from the neck down has the curvy body of the middle-aged Tricia Harper. A bushy womanhood lies between his legs, and a busty chest has replaced his own. Bobby watches as he stretches the mask’s opening wide and ducks his head inside. He grunts as Tricia’s pleasant face stretches and slides down over his, wrinkling and deforming unnaturally before it begins to settle into place.

“Get a move on, kid” Sal says, lifting the elderly woman’s face from its stand.

Bobby shakes his head. The sight of the other men encasing themselves in the bodies of these women had been a big distraction.

In just a few minutes, thanks to his extensive practice, he is pulling the tiny zipper up his back, sealing himself inside Maddie’s lithe body. He looks down and sees her familiar, modest breasts jutting out from his chest and her cleanly shaven slit tucked between her supple thighs.

Moments later, he’s pinching her freckled cheeks, stretching the mask into its proper position. He places her purple-tipped fingers on his forehead and presses firmly, then glides them around his eyes, nose and mouth. He feels the mild electric shock as the modulator activates, before slipping in a pair of light blue contacts and pearly white, hollow teeth.

He then quickly slips into a tan, lacy thong and matching strapless bra, before pulling a white, cherry-patterned sundress down over his head. The soft material settles naturally onto his new form, accentuating its feminine curves.

“Looking good, sweetie” the disguised Frank comments in a soft contralto. Bobby sees that he’s dressed Tricia’s body in a pair of dark jeans and a casual sweatshirt.

Bobby chuckles in Molly’s high-pitched tone. “Thanks, mom” he replies.

He brushes out his new auburn mane while Frank ties his blonde locks back into a tight ponytail. While he brushes, Bobby glances over the others.

Sal - now Betty - is wearing a faded cotton sweater a loose pair of slacks. The fake old woman clips on a pair of dangly earrings and applies a modest amount of makeup to her wrinkled face. “Well hello there, dear” the woman says in a raspy voice with a wink, having noticed the disguised Bobby observing her.

Victor - now Lisa - is applying a light coating of eyeliner to her strikingly beautiful face. His character is wearing a professional-looking pantsuit and heels, giving the impression that she is a successful businesswoman. Her dark hair is styled into a fashionable bun, and a pair of sheer black tights cover her shapely legs.

Bobby applies a little blush to his prosthetic Molly face and checks himself over in the mirror one final time. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest in a sign of nervous apprehension as the pretty young face of Molly Harper smiles back at him innocently. Strangely, the sight of her soft, dainty features over his own brings him a sense of calm. I can do this, he thinks.

“All right fellas” Tricia says authoritatively. “You know the drill, everyone is in character from this point forward. See you at the bank. Come on, Molly.”

The fake Molly Harper grabs her backpack and stands, then follows her mother out the back door of the warehouse.

ONE HOUR LATER

Carl Walters glances up at the clock again. This shift is taking forever, he muses. Being a security guard sure could be boring.

The door next to him opens and two women enter the bank. From the look of them, he assumes they’re mother and daughter. The young girl has a bright blue backpack hanging from one of her shoulders.

Instinctively, Carl says “Excuse me miss, we don’t allow backpacks in here.”

She looks up at him, with a look of mild anxiety. “Oh…I’m really sorry” she splutters, brushing back a lock of brown hair. “We parked really far away though…”

Her mother addresses Carl next. “I’m sorry, sir, we didn’t realize. Do you think you can make an exception? We did park awfully far away” she says with a friendly smile.

Carl glances as the pair and shrugs. He hesitates then thinks, Oh, what the hell. “All right, fine. Just this one time. But next time, no backpack, okay?”

The girl’s face breaks into a relieved smile. “I promise! Thanks!” She bubbles.

The pretty blonde woman smiles as well. “Yes, thank you very much. Come on, sweetheart” she says.

Carl smiles and nods back at them, returning to his post while the two women find a place in line. A few minutes pass, and he notices that the girl has taken her backpack off of her shoulder and is holding it in front of her. That’s odd, he thinks. He watches as the mother leans over to her daughter and says something. In the narrow gap between their bodies, Carl thinks he sees the girl pull a recognizable dark object from her bag and pass it to the other woman.

No, that can’t be. That’s impossible, he thinks, but he feels his pulse start to quicken.

Suddenly, the mother lifts her arm, a pistol in her tight grip. Totally caught off-guard, Carl hears her yell “This is a robbery! Everyone get your hands up!”

He stands momentarily frozen, incredulous, as the woman’s daughter raises a pistol of her own “Right the fuck now!” She shouts, aiming at the man behind the counter. “And open that fucking door!” She commands, pointing with the gun’s muzzle.

Carl turns his head and, in another completely unexpected development, sees an attractive asian woman disarming his fellow guard with precision.

He reaches toward his own belt when he feels cold steel against the back of his head.

“Don’t even think about it” a raspy voice states coldly. “Drop your gun to the floor and kick it away.”

He complies immediately, then is turned around roughly. His eyes widen as he sees an elderly woman with frazzled grey hair and a wrinkled face pointing a gun in his face. She gestures and snarls “Move over there with your buddy.”

For a moment, he considers overpowering her. But somehow, her grip on his shoulder is impossibly strong, and he decides against it.

As his wrists are tied behind his back, he sees the mother and daughter working quickly behind the glass. The girl had pulled out many nylon bags from her backpack, and they were efficiently filling them with cash. As she’d done with his partner, the old woman swiftly ties his ankles together and fastens a strip of tape across his mouth.

“This one’s full, Molly. Close it up” he hears the blonde woman say. With remarkable ease, the girl hefts the bulky bag in front of her and ties it securely closed.

He sees one of the female tellers moving subtly toward the alarm button underneath the counter. Unfortunately, the girl sees the motion as well.

“Sit the fuck down!” She barks in a high-pitched tone, aiming her gun at the perpetrator. Her pretty face is contorted in a look of anger and intimidation, and the woman quickly reels back.

“That’s it, nice and easy” the asian woman holding them at gunpoint jeers, in a slightly accented voice.

Minutes go by, with no sounds of sirens, and finally it appears that they are wrapping up. The mother and the woman dressed in business attire carry the overflowing bags out the side door into the alley. The young girl has disappeared, but the old woman lingers, scanning the group with the barrel of her gun. “Heads down!” She commands in her caustic voice.

Outside in the alley, Molly stands watch by the corner while the other two load the van. She pretends to scroll on her phone mindlessly, chewing on a piece of gum.

A couple walking by notices the activity further down the alley. “What’s going on?” The man asks her curiously.

Twirling a lock of her hair, she just shrugs. “Uh, then just said they were doing some maintenance? I dunno, I’m waiting for my dad” she replies in a disinterested tone. She glances at the woman and says “Oh my gosh, I love your earrings.”

The woman smiles gratefully. “Thanks! I got them at the mall.”

The man shrugs, having lost interest, and the two continue down the sidewalk.

Come on, come on, the disguised Bobby thinks behind Molly’s pretty face.

Inside, Carl notices the elderly woman move toward the side entrance. “I said heads down!” She shrills. “The next person to look up will regret it!”

The group buries their heads into the floor, a few of them shaking in fear. Ten seconds later, Carl turns his head ever so slightly and notices that the woman is gone.

Back outside, Tricia calls out to the fake girl standing at the corner. “We’re good! Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

Molly rushes over, her long hair swishing around her face as she runs. She dives inside the van just in front of Betty, and the van takes off.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

The van squeals into the abandoned warehouse. The disguised Sal jumps out and quickly pulls the massive door closed. Then, apparently not wanting to spend another second behind Betty’s poorly aging face, he scratches at his collarbone while the others begin unloading.

“Mrphhh” he grunts as the woman’s lips and cheeks peel away. Her nose crumples and her wrinkled face stretches before finally snapping off with a rubbery squelch.

“Old hag” he sneers, tossing the floppy mask onto the table. Still wearing her elderly form, he helps the others drag the bags full of cash out of the van. “Next time I get to be the hot asian chick.”

Lisa smiles. “Yeah, she does have some amazing tits, huh?” She jeers, squeezing her own massive chest provocatively. “If it wasn’t a custom fit, I’d see if my girl wanted to try her on for me tonight.”

The disguised Frank laughs. “I’d like to see you try that.” He turns to Molly and says “But seriously kid, these are evidence now. Gotta get rid of ‘em. We’ll get new ones for next time. I’m thinking we try out the ol’ ‘school girl’ cliche” he jokes.

Victor laughs with his prosthetic Lisa face. “That oughta work great, boss.”

Ten minutes later, Bobby is back in his corner, having stripped off the dress and underwear. He stands in Molly’s naked glory once more, and glances around the area. Lisa’s limp husk lies draped over a chair, as Victor slips on a pair of jeans. Even in the suit’s deflated state, her breasts hang heavily on its chest.

Sal is busy stuffing Betty’s rumpled form into its case, then grabs the mask by its frizzy grey hair and tosses it inside.

Bobby hears a noisy sucking sound, and turns to see Frank roughly tugging off Tricia’s face. Her tight blonde ponytail loosens with the unnatural pulling as the mask springs free. It lands on the table with a hollow thwap, and its empty, crumpled eye sockets stare eerily over at her daughter.

The leader turns to him and says “That chick sure is sexy, but she’s gotta go, kid” he says, and the others laugh.

A little embarrassed, Bobby digs his painted fingernails into the false flesh beneath his neck. Moments later, he watches as Molly’s cute lips and freckled nose crumple upwards before his vision is blocked and he feels the rest of her face peel away from his own. Her long, wavy hair tickles his skin as he tosses the mask into the container. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s pinching her soft thighs, extricating his legs from their rubbery, lifelike sheaths.

Finally, he tosses the rest of the disguise into the case and snaps it shut.

After getting dressed, he walks over to the others to retrieve his belongings.

“We’ll count it up and hand out the cuts tomorrow. Why don’t you head home, kid? And remember what I said about that suit” he finishes sternly.

Bobby nods and grabs the container before leaving the warehouse.

THAT NIGHT

Bobby stands in his bedroom, staring down at the deflated husk of Molly Harper. He runs his fingers along her soft, pale skin and traces her pink, pouty lips. The gaping, hollow mask seems to be inviting him to put her on. Wear me, Bobby! He imagines.

He leans down and hefts the floppy suit up by its slender shoulders and holds it out in front of him.

Well, maybe just one more time.