you see the short guy stride thru the door.  the bowling ball falls and lands behind him with a meaty thud, followed by a groan turning into a scream.  the tall guy stands on one leg, grabbing his foot, and he tumbles into the wall.

"fuck it," the short guy grunts, defeated, "just fuck it.  we ain't gonna be making that speedy getaway tonight.  not like this."  the tall guy looks down, frowning.

"I think I can still -" the tall guy mumbles out, the short guy grunts "nah.  light trip." the short guy opens a jewelry box, takes two rings, reaches down the back of his pants, stands on the tips of his toes, and lets out a grunt.  when he removes his hand, the rings are gone.

"we don't gotta -" the tall guy mumbles out again. the short guy cuts in "you don't gotta.  hey.  dinner's on me.  I'll wash my hands at the rest stop."  you see them leave thru the window.  the van's engine starts and they're gone.