The conman that will save the world (Kaitlyn)

Hunger was nothing new to Sledgehammer. His mum and da worked everyday to do their best to provide, and Charlie had carried his weight before he got married and moved out. Still there were plenty of days growing up when Sledge would have only one meal to eat, and it wasn't necessarily the most filling. He could deal with hunger, especially if he wasn't seasick. You get use to ignoring that gnawing pit in your stomach. As long as you don't bother to think of food, the lack of it isn't as big a deal. Yes, hunger was an old familiar friend of Sledge's, one that he could deal with.

He had money, considerably more than he had upon arriving in America. New York City was as full of gulible sods as Bradford. Actually it was better here, people were less willing to accept a loss, and their losses tended to be substantially larger. There were things that he easily obtained with his new currency. More clothing, meals at Mickey D's, a few bribes... yet what he wanted the most he could not buy. Sledge wanted a meal that didn't come in a paper bag, something that wasn't ladden with grease or came with a serving of chips.

Homecooked meals weren't possible to make in hotel rooms.

This was Sledge's least favorite scam. Unless he timed things perfectly he could very well end up in hospital or worse, dead. He'd only ever attempted it twice before, with mixed results. The one time it worked he got a tidy amount of hush money which he put into a savings account back in England. On the other hand the time that it went wrong he wound up in hospital needing stitches in his head and with his side badly bruised.

He watched the traffic carefully, seeking out a car approaching the red light just a touch too quickly. The key was to go for a driver who looked only slightly distracted. Find one that is enraptured in their cell phone conversation and you get the failed attempt. You need one who is glancing up at their mirror, checking for something. Someone who is aware of the red light and is stopping, their attention on what is going on either directly above them There, he thought, not giving himself a chance to think things through.

To the driver it seemed as though they had suddenly hit a man with their car. They felt the seat belt tighten as the car did a small lurch. They heard the sound of impact. They saw the man collapse against the roof. What they missed was the man had purposely stepped in front of the car once it had stopped. Sledge had bent himself over, throwing a powerful punch into the bumper, and allowing the momentum from his punch to let him collapse on the hood. His arm that hadn't been used to punch was used to catch the fall. It worked. Two out of three wasn't half bad.

What he hadn't anticipated was the driver to move his car after he had successfully damaged it. "Wanker!" he shouted as the car went off. What he hadn't counted on was the rudeness of New York drivers. Having failed Sledge was left standing half on the curb and rubbing his knuckles.