Harold was unceremoniously rausted to his feet, much to his displeasure.  His legs felt like gelatin and his feet  definitely did not wish to be part of the hostage situation.  His legs and feet, and Harold himself for that matter, did not have a choice in the matter, as he was forced to travel with the bank robbers. 

"This can't be a good thing" kept running through his aching mind like a horrible earworm.  Even Harold, iin his limited mental capacity, knew that his situation had just taken a turn for the worse.  He could tell the human cockroaches were watching his every movement from the safety of their niches with the attention one would watch the lottery.  Perhaps they believed they had won the lottery as they weren't being taken as hostages. 

He was dragged across the lobby as the robbers headed toward the door.  One of the robbers reached the door before the other, who was being slowed by Harold's unwillingness to move.  They were moving like a three-toed sloth in molasses, and the robber attempting to drag Harold was starting to exhibit a fair amount of frustation. 

They exited the lobby through the North doors, and as he was dragged through the spotless glass double doors, Harold noticed the gilded lettering with the bank's logo,  "We treat you like family", on the glass.  If Harold understood the concept of irony, perhaps he would grasp the irony of the logo. 

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