The Topsy-Turvy Knuckle-Chuckle Flip-Skip

For what seemed like the hundredth time Mossie, Tigs, Gregor and Flowers went over the checklist. They had each read it quietly to themselves, and out loud to each other. They all could recite the explicitly detailed steps by memory now, and as Tigs read them from the sheet of paper aloud, the rest of them chanted along in perfect four-part harmony.

To an outsider, the preparation would seem a bit over the top. Not to the four men in the small, windowless room. All of them had made mistakes due to being under-prepared. Big mistakes, ones that cost a lot of money and time.

There would be no mistakes. Each of the men had committed hundreds of hours to his area of responsibility, and each of the men were now absolutely confident they would be able to execute the plan flawlessly, with their eyes closed if need be.

Tigs finished reading the checklist and they stood around the card table in silence. 

Suddenly the sole door that allowed egress to and from the room swung open. A small, smartly dressed man stood in the doorway, backlit by what appeared to be a harsh spotlight.

His right hand came up quickly from his side. He looked down at the clipboard it held and then sharply at the men standing in front of him. "You four ready? This is it, less than a minute to action. I know you're nervous, I've seen the same look on your faces that I've seen on countless others. Just take a few deep breaths and relax. You have all put in the time and effort necessary to pull this off." He smiled the artificial smile of someone paid to reassure others who were about to risk everything.

"Oh, one more thing - what's the full name of this little dealio you have planned?"

Gregor looked at the small man with undisguised contempt. "It's not a 'dealio,' It's a dance, and it's called the Topsy-turvy, Knuckle-chuckle, Flip-skip.'

"Right, right, got it." The small man stood aside the doorway and made a gesture to an unseen lackey. "Alright, the stage is yours, knock 'em dead guys!"