Antique Excellence

Can a husband-wife 'acrobat' duo outwit a bad-baron in the UK with an antique (guns) show for everyone?

A 'cool' heist-fable featuring some of the 'street-designs' and aesthetic(s) from the iconic breakthrough-film Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (Guy Ritchie). Thanks for reading, 

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A certain book-shop in the UK was selling antique-guns but was operating the sales through the pocket(s) of a major blood-diamond evildoer from London named Fatso, and someone needed to upstage him with a 'science' of art.

The protagonist-heroes are a duo of husband-wife, one Irish and the other Algerian, and both Catholic nuts. They'd decided to visit the mansion of Fatso with a special bottle of absinthe laced with a very strong sedative and would entertain the baron with some color-pencil art(s) while he drank away his fate.

The wife in this duo-set in the UK is Shelbye, and the groom/hubby is Amlan Satan, and Mr. Satan had been studying the psychology of capitalism-fatsos and decided that old Fatso himself would be in the mood for drink if Shelbye/Amlan managed to convince the evildoer that they'd enter as costumed theater-folk with a special love of casting wealthy investors as social-media benefactors for the young lads of poor/troubled Belfast (hmm).

AMLAN: Alright, me-lady, we go in with these bottles of sedative-drink and I'll do the dancing and you serve; I'm in mask-IQ.

SHELBYE: Wow, Fatso --- this 'antique' gun-collection is quite its appearance in weight and high-school history professorship.

FATSO: You two birds are quite an intriguing chess-pair, and yes, I suppose I need an alternating-absinthe offering (Belfast)!

So, Amlan Satan and Shelbye entered this marvelous mansion of Fatso and exercised their 'chess-stalemate' intent of theater deed for the baron while he drank away his fate, and meanwhile, Shelbye dug up the fake set of antiques, replicas of Fatso's set, famed in the streets by amateur artists (of course!) and swapped the entire set while Amlan had him drinking and watching himself juggle/carrom inside the main-room of the window-expanse living room (wow).

The affable pair left for the baron of diamond-hell a rather nifty Series-set (trade-cards!) so Fatso would report to the street journal(s) that he'd received a special 'capitalism-trophy' during the theater-visit and all the while develop 'alternate' theories as to who swapped his guns by the time he'd showcased his baseball-treasure to the underworld.

SHELBYE: I got you this beautiful sci-fi/horror comic issue/edition, darling Mr. Satan.

AMLAN: I suggest I read it and then plan our flee to Australia, honey-bee Shelbye of mine.

SHELBYE: Are you worried (about old Fatso)?

AMLAN: I'm less worried about a chess-genius Martian in the appearance of a Xenomorph in Belfast, Shelbye.

FATSO: This was the tale of scientific-thieves of whom I don't know their face(s); I'd send my aliens to Mars to find them, but Alas, this is a time of youth-IQ and chess-stalemate(s) against the best of evil men (me), and I suppose I'll trade my (insured) gun-depression for some nifty more gems from Egypt (hmm).

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)