Sammy saw a simple solution to his problem: Sizzler Steakhouses. Like a lightning strike from a storm in Seattle, it struck him square on the head.

“Why don’t I steal it from a Sizzler?” Sammy asked.

“Steal what?” said Sally, Sammy’s sister, sneering like a silly school girl.

“Steal a stack of steaks,” said Sammy, smiling like a snake stuffing a scaleless salamander into its softened stomach. “Like a stealth bomber, I’ll slowly sneak inside and slide the office door aside and sniff out the site of the safe. Then I’ll steal the stash of cash along with a stack of steaks.”

“You’ll be sorry,” Sally said. “Sargeant Smith of the Seattle Swat team will shoot you with holes like a slab of Swiss cheese.”

“So what,” spoke Sammy with a soft whisper as a sigh.

So Sammy set out Saturday after sundown to steal a safe and a stack of steaks from the Sizzler Steakhouse in Seattle like a stone-cold snake.

Sadly, he was shot by a scared salesman standing like a statue outside the steakhouse.