Everything ripped away in a matter of minutes; his father killed under mysterious circumstances with a blood-soaked sponge gripped in his hand, shot in the back while washing dishes at home. A man's home was once thought to be untouchable, but it appears the thought has fallen by the wayside. The times are changing, people change with it whether willingly or dragged along like an unwilling toddler fighting father time, pulling and yanking trying to break free from its grasp to no avail. 

No one to provide for the young boy, he turned to petty thievery on the streets of Chicago, targeting oblivious tourists from 'Candyland' unaware of the real cycle of things. They work for money, we steal the money, we spend the money at establishments of entertainment or necessities, what have you, and the owners of said establishments pay their workers, the oblivious tourists or those unaware of the 'real' cycle of things, who then become, once again, prime targets of a lowly pickpocket. Dubliner.

It wasn't that difficult, really. You cause a distraction and you can do just about whatever you want without them being aware. You pay a small child a bit of money to cause a scene that draws everyone's attention to that scene--running into the road and causing a car to veer off and wreck, for instance--and while everyone is looking at the wreck, you have your way with their watches, wallets, and jewelry. Dubliner managed to work up a skill and a set of deft hands that were able to sneak into any pocket unbeknownst to the owner of said pocket. Until one day.

A wreck occurred, according to plan, and while people were watching, Dubliner made his way to a man with lavish accessories, a jewel encrusted watch, a long jacket with wide open pocket that, for all intents and purposes, would make for easy pickings as they're not right on the man's person, and a heavy set build which meant that, should Dubliner be caught, he could make a relatively easy getaway from the angry man. 

He made his way towards the man, and reached for the watch, no problem. Dubliner now had a jewel encrusted watch worth thousands. Reach into the jacket pock--

"You feel that?"

A cold steel hit Dubliner's hand as he reached into the jacket and jumped at the sense he was not expecting. 

"M1911. Capable of blowing through a grown man's skull and creating a bloody mess so coroner's wouldn't be able to identify to poor bastard."

Dubliner looked up at the man's face who was now staring right down at him. Dubliner slowly pulled his hand out of the man's pocket and began stepping away slowly. The man pulled the gun from his pocket and held it at his waist.

"I wouldn't run yet, boy, we need to talk. You set all this up yourself? What're you, fourteen?" 

Dubliner nodded still paralyzed in fear, his lips unable to move to speak. His breathing speeding up as his heart was pounding in his chest seemingly attempting to escape the frozen body and make a getaway by itself. 

"You put on a hell of a show, boy, let me tell you. All this for a pickpocket attempt? You must really be desperate."

The man stares at Dubliner for a moment as Dubliner's heart is beginning to make itself known to his ears begging for him to turn and run. 

"Keep it up, boy. I'll be watching..."

The man walks past Dubliner and begins on his way 'sheathing' his pistol back into his jacket. As he gets about 20 feet down the sidewalk behind Dubliner, he calls back...

"Keep the watch."