"cream"

He told me, "Go tell the bartender I need a 'cream.'" I asked, "What's that?" He said, "Cops and robbers, all that. You know." He gave me that look. Next thing I knew we were in the vehicle running from the cops, bullets flying everywhere. I was in the back seat all crowded into the middle, feeling like a sitting duck at the county fair. The guys in front side swiped just about everything as our driver (who was the bartender) drove with one hand while getting his revolver out with the other. Then we faced oncoming traffic, headlights coming right at us! We maneuvered down a side street, ditched the cops. The bartender surveyed the back of our vehicle telling us everything looked intact. We drove over the state line. By four in the morning we'd found a place to lick our wounds. I hate passing messages to the bartender. You never know what will happen next. SKB (From a dream).