My friend’s grandfather died of a heart attack when he was 70. It seems nothing unusual, many so die, but he died from deep spiritual experiences. In the early 2000s he accumulated a normal amount of money. He turned them, wrapped them in gasoline, and then placed them in a three-litre glass bowl. He closed it with an ordinary polyethylene cover and placed this wealth in the basement, further behind the other banks with salts.

At various meetings, drinks and other people's gatherings, the question "Where is the money?" He replied that he was in a reliable bank (the rumors that he had accumulated a normal amount apparently reached relatives in the 12th knee).

It has been a few months, and maybe years. Nobody knows the exact numbers. Dad decided to check his ass. He was surprised when he saw an empty bowl. The cover was ripped, there was no trace of the marble, and money was only demanded. Yes, there were mice. My grandfather died in the cemetery.

Moral: the bank had to be rolled with a metal cover. Although.. Mice may have bitten her too.