Roya liked to have fun. That what she was known for, having fun, drinking hard and and whooping ass. But she also loved to pickpocket people who, oh i don't know, annoyed her? So she decided to walk into a bar that day and tell her most funny pickpockets while enjoying a good drink. She walked into the shittiest shithole of a bar she known, but they had the best scotch, and walked to the bar.

"Hey gimme the good stuff, Jimmy" she said to the bartender. Jimmy was a bald chubby sweaty italian, who looked more like a butcher wearing his dirty stained apron. His rolled up cigarette was always dangling from the corner of the mouth. He was a man of few words, but liked Roya's company and she liked his. Also, he was the only bar owner who still let Roya frequent his place, since she was a fiery troublemaker.

Without saying a word, Jimmy opened a small cabinet smeared with grease and dust behind the bar, took out a 20 year old scotch and served Roya a glass. Roya sat on the stool and slowly savored the silky texture and sweet wooden flavor.

More mafioso and underworlder patrons started arriving as the time went by and soon all you could hear was a cackophony of laughter, all you could smell was tobacco and the piss stench coming from the bathroom. It was the perfect time to start her little tale.

"Oi fuckers! Wanna hear how i avoided commiting murder, having a mental breakdown or punching someone's face this month by pickpocketing some people?" she yelled it above the noise. Everyone turned the attention to her and Oswald, a guy known for being a sadistic psychopath, said:

"Why the hell would you avoid that? Killing people is fun!" The crowd laughed.

"Not everyone is like you, freak. Now listen." She coughed, opened her diary and continued:

"I was walking the streets when i saw this woman walking in a medieval outfit or some shit. I thought to myself, what in God's name? Decided to go medieval too and steal from her. It was actually worth it, her wallet was packet with greenies."

"This one here, i have a history with. Called me petty and acted like she could tell me what to do, disrespecting my rank, as she was a gangster, goomba or something, while i was a Capo, Boss or Consig, i don't remember exactly, but anyway. She also was rude to our dear fallen Mocha, about the amazing Poker Tournaments, like who the fuck she think she is? Don't wanna read Poker pamphlets, then throw them out and walk the hell away. Continuing, i took my sweet time with her. Got me some good entries on my PP diary. But damn, that woman broke. Nothing in her pockets. Shameful. Also RIP, cause she died. Bummer." Roya laughs.

"This guy here i have nothing against, looks like a good fellow. I only knew him for his name, thats why i actually though he would have some cash on him, but eh, was mistaken."

"This one, i was actually trying to feel her butt, cause damn, she hot. But unfortunately, her BIG ONES got in my way."

"Ahhh, this one has a sentimental value! I cannot say how much it gave me pleasure, too bad he wasn't carrying his 80mil or such, that he actually said was scammed from TheBeast. His wallet was empty, perhaps from spending it on printing bad newspapers." 

"And that's it my friends, what do you think of my pickpocketing adventures? I must say, if you hold any grudges or if someone annoys the fuck out of you or if you just wanna have some fun with your friends, i advise you to start pickpocketing! Enjoy the good advice and cheers!!!"

The crowd laughed with her and they all went back to drinking and pissing everywhere but inside the toiled.

I see your obsession with my mother continues. Perhaps if you didn't act petty you wouldn't be called petty? This only furthers backs her words but I doubt you could see that.

As for the dead, they are gone. Perhaps try a little respect once in awhile and you may gain some. Otherwise keep doing stupid things. You can laugh at those who died yesterday but no one gets off these shores alive. Everyone meets their maker at some point.

"I never obssessed with your dead mother, RusalkaBelikov, it seemed she obssessed with me. She even put my name on her suit once, which was fucking ridiculous" Roya bursts out laughing and after a while she continues "I'm just fond of exposing shittiness and fuckery, i don't usually keep quiet, specially after i try to give someone the benefit of the doubt and ignore insults, but she kept teasing me. She's dead now and unfortunately, i can't make her face the consequences, which is being called out on the streets for everyone to see. But you're her daughter, so yeah... I shall content myself with you. Also, thanks for replying, i wasn't expecting you'd do that. Hilarious!" Roya giggles.

Wanders into the streets and puts a big ole kiss on Roya's cheek.

Hey girl, lookin good. 

Throws an arm around Roya.

Can I play in some pockets with you? 

Vine was walking through the streets when he heard screams and laughter coming from inside a small dirty bar, his curiosity made him go inside to see what was going on there.

Upon entering the bar he comes across several mobsters and notices that they were all looking intently in the same direction, and then he sees Roya drinking and laughing as she tells about her adventures as a pickpocket.

He decides to order a drink and while listening to Roya Vine he thinks:

"Is this a possible way of life? Maybe a career in the criminal world? Or is it just the alcohol talking in my head?"

"Anyway, I'll leave a few bucks in my pocket in case Roya finds me somewhere, I don't want to be known in bars as an empty pocket guy haha."

Vine finishes his drink and leaves the bar thinking about everything he heard inside.

Hugs Violet- and walks with her, laughing and shouting to everyone at the bar:

"MY GIRL IS IN THE HOUSE!!!! Heck yes, you can baby!! Let's do this!" Roya asked Jimmy for some vodka shots as the PP party was about to begin!

A smile came to Rain’s face when she saw Roya slip her hands into someone’s pocket. She was pretty good at it Rain had to confess.  Rain had slipped into a few pockets herself. But she was nice when it came to someone pickpocketing her.  She didn’t mind people getting a little practice as long as they returned her hard-earned monies. She works hard for her money. There’s a bitch that lives inside her. She was no longer crazy but diagnosed with  Dissociative Identity Disorder - Multiple Personality Disorder.   She was seeking treatment until her therapist suddenly died but still diligently searched for more help with getting rid of the bitch.  So when she is pickpocketed with no return no telling what the bitch will do when encouraged to come out to play.

Not while go during my journey in Detroit when past by an old bar after a rough day that took my interest, didn't hesitate to give it a shot

With a confident swagger walking into the bar exuding a strong vibe, the dimly lit bar falls momentarily silent as heads turn to follow my entrance while approaching the bar and leaning casually against it, catching the bartender's attention and saying in a low demanding tone "Give me a couple of your finest brews pal two cold beers, no frills and none of that fancy stuff"