I saw some trains in St. Louis with dining tables, at which point this concept sort of barged it's way into my brain. It's set around 100-150 years ago, and it revolves around 2 robberies happening on a luxury train simultaneously, 1 by a nervous, inexperienced, petty criminal, and another by one who has made a living off of his work, with help from his partner/hired muscle.
The Pullman Incident
I could tell just by the looks I got from the passengers of the Pullman's Palace I was already as white as a ghost. As if that didn't raise enough suspicion, I couldn't help but check my coat every 2 seconds for a bulge that would signify I carry a snubnose revolver. Thankfully, it’s not painfully obvious. I kept counting down in my head to when I'll finally stand up and go through with it, but every time the mental count reached 0 I froze right where I sat. It was impossible to stand up, let alone pull a gun and start yelling. Every once and awhile I preformed a half-assed attempt at rising out of my seat, but I was only able to plop straight back down, drawing even more curious and strange glances. I cursed under my breath when it finally sunk in that I was not even close to prepared to rob a high-class train. I could barely even get away with petty theft. I should probably get off as soon as possible before someone catches me, and then figure out how to afford the ridiculous fare later.
It was then that I felt some kind of spark, as if my own words angered me. My body unlocked and I could practically get up and jump around, but that's not what I was here for. I slowly rose to my feet, fixed my coat, and pulled out my pistol right as these very words that I'd practiced a half a million times jumped out of my mouth:
“This is a robbery.”
I looked from the other end of the car at my partner. His name was Hector, a name that I never really fancied but nonetheless never complained about. I carried a rather large revolver and he sported a blunderbuss that took about a miracle to conceal. Thankfully, his form was immense compared to the firearm that he uses. Him and I both exchanged glances and he shrugged as to say “Ready when you are.” The truth was I could have very well started the robbery an hour ago, but I was really enjoying the service they provided on the train. They called it Pullman's Palace for a reason. Eventually I noticed Hector was getting a bit fidgety, shaking his leg and all, so I flashed an “OK” with my hand and we both rose simultaneously. The revolver was very quick coming out of my interior breast pocket, while the blunderbuss evidently proved more difficult to extract. Nonetheless, several people screamed and the boy who was catering wine dropped his tray with a loud shattering and a tremendous stain on the velvet rug. I remained calm and stated “Alright, I think you get the idea. Hand over all of your valuables and if you move for the door or a weapon you will be shot without hesitation. I want to make it very clear that it is completely unnecessary for someone to be hurt.” Hector grunted an affirmation, and we began our collection.