Al steps out into the cool night air. Best time of year in his mind. He feels light, no guns, just a blade for anything too serious. For tonight he picks the pockets of cities unwary. Like a thief in the night he blends into the crowded streets.

Excuse me! The first mark was some coolkid, easy as pie and portent of things to come in Al's view. This will be easy pickins. He spies some chick in purple and makes the grab. She punches him hard and takes some of his wad. Al waits and tries again. She kicks his ass and walks away with over 9 grand.

Shit! Fuck her and that left hook. Al rubs his nose. And looks for an easier mark. He finds it in a viral mobster. Success! Ha, the purple chick was just a fluke! He moves on and tries to lift some from a mentor. Failure. The atom mobster. Failure. The sexy mobster. Failure. How about his friend the LHM? Failure twice. Jose? Failure. The single oxygen kid? Failure twice! The heir of toto-riina? Failure. The cattle's behind? Failure! Potman? Failure! The shortest lived head of St. Louis to date? Failure! Kates RHM? Failure! The one destined to be Death-Knights RHM? Failure. The fabulous fine one? Failure! The messiah's right hand? Failure! The purple chick again? Failure, but I run off before she lands the punch. This hot wolf chick from philly. Failure. The Rourke. Failure. Ohh a Godmother. Epic failure. And finally, the toilet paper guy. FAILURE. Al stands there bloody and poorer.

That's 2/24 for crying out loud! I guess that is what you call pickpocket friendly, you would have to be so friendly as to give it to me!

Al heads back to the HQ.