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99 pages, Paperback
First published December 20, 2010
[Branch 117]A robber holds up Branch 117 of the British Bank of North America in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. There were 13 people inside when the thief entered. The thief wore a flamboyant purple hat and brandished a handgun.
I demand only one thing from each of you and it is this: the item currently in your possession which holds the most sentimental value.
Each of the 13 handed over their most significant, memory-laden, sentimental object; watches, diamond earrings, a calculator, photographs, a dog-eared copy of , a paystub, an ornate door key and so on. When he'd collected an item from everyone in the room, the thief declared:![]()
It has come to my attention that the vast majority of you, if you even believe you have a soul, believe it sits inside you like a brick of gold.After the robbery strange things start to happen to the victims. A lion tattoo leaps off the owner's leg and proceeds to chase her across the city, another’s husband turns into a snowman, yet another wakes up to find herself made of candy and a little baby begins to fill its nappy with cash. The wife referred to in the title wakes each morning to discover she is shrinking by ever-increasing increments. If she doesn’t figure out a way to repair her soul she will completely disappear before the month is through.
But I'm here to tell you that nothing could be further from the truth. Your soul is a living, breathing, organic thing. No different than your heart or your legs. And just like your heart keeps your blood oxygenated and your legs keep you moving around, your soul gives you the ability to do amazing, beautiful things. But it is a strange machine, needing to be rejuvenated. Normally, this happens simply by the doing of these things, like a car battery recharging by driving.
When I leave here, I will be taking 51 percent of your souls with me. This will have strange and bizarre consequences in your lives. But more importantly, and I mean this quite literally, learn how to grow them back, or you will die.
On Thursday 22nd February, one day after the robbery, Jennifer Layone was searching underneath the couch for the remote control when she found God. He looked almost exactly like she'd expected him to look - long white beard, robe, sandals, the whole thing. But he was very dirty. It was dusty underneath the couch, and since she was doing laundry anyway, she took him with her to the laundromat.
Jennifer put him in a washing machine. She was running low on quarters, so she washed him with a load of jeans. She must have forgotten to check the pockets because when she took God out of the washing machine, he was covered in little bits of Kleenex. This disappointed God. He wouldn't look Jennifer in the eyes and he left the laundromat without saying goodbye. Now she was no closer to God than she'd been before the robbery. [pp.22-23]