Enclosed places had never been her friend, so Jeannie was just a little skittish about being at a bank. There were those safety deposit boxes, not to mention the vault itself. But a girl had to live in the modern world, and while she could have anything she wanted literally in the blink of an eye, the ordinary humans that surrounded her lived by a different set of rules. They liked things like a physical address and proof of identity. Especially if they hired you for a job. She had learned these things while living with her ex-master darling, Major Nelson.
True, she did not need a job to sustain herself physically. She could provide herself with food. She carried her home with her. She could even blink in some entertainment when she desired. But monkeys that could play the marimba grew stale after a while when there was no one to share it with. In short, Jeannie was bored. A job would relieve that and give her new people to interact with.
However, she needed to prove that she was a real person, employable. The easiest way to do so, in her opinion, was to have a checking account. Every modern woman had a checking account, and once she was done with that, she would make a charge account with the major department store in town. Yes, that would do nicely and prove that she was someone trustworthy and dependable. Jeannie was quite pleased with her plan.
And the very nice man at the bank had taken one look at her crisp linen suit with it’s pencil skirt and fine pillbox hat and seen that she was a woman of taste and refinement. After sitting her down at his desk to fill out some forms, he had hurried off. She had looked up to see him speaking to his coworkers, and they were all laughing. It was nice that he had such a jovial relationship with them, but she did think it showed a lack of responsibility. Especially as he knew she was waiting for him to return. He had even pointed at her a few times as he laughed with he friends. Jeannie was starting to get a bit impatient, and considered giving another bank her business.
But before she could stand up there was shattering glass and guns and darts and butterflies. Giant butterflies. Giant butterflies that were robbing the bank. Well, this was new. Standing slowly, Jeannie faced the robbers, her confusion plainly written on her face.
“Excuse me,” Jeannie called to the plump butterfly. “Your antennae is crooked, and did you know that your friend seems to be having a problem walking? Is there something wrong with his leg?”