"Let me get this right," the shopkeeper said in a way which made it clear the words would be followed by something ludicrious. "The crate you were supposed to deliver to me, the crate filled with valuable merchandise from West Blue, the crate I have already paid a considerable sum for, was stolen from you while you were transporting it from the harbor by a gang of circus performers?" His employee nodded awkwardly. His employee, named Boy Barnes, had felt his own recounting of the events to have been more colorful. Unfortunately, the shop-keeper had no sense of drama, and found his story difficult to believe. 

A few minutes later, Boy found himself in the street one job poorer, totaling his number of jobs to zero. The crate [i]had[/i] been stolen, and it hadn't been his fault. Everyone were thieving now-adays. Even circus performers. Yet Boy strolled around in the street carelessly. Losing a job felt strangely fantastic. It was a relief of sorts, to be freed from the restraints of work. He never could remember what had made him take the job to begin with. That was, until he became hungry, which by the growling sound erupting from his stomach was just about now. No job, no money, no food. Living in a dump of a city didn't help, either. 

Maybe he should start thieving too, he mused. Seeing as everybody else did it, one more scoundrel in the mix couldn't hurt. The honest citizens were the suckers, really. They just stood around, waiting for pirates and the like to steal their stuff. What good was working if it was all ultimately in vain? Boy had never stolen anything, but then and there it felt like the right thing to do. He looked around for the closest possible thing he could steal. Preferably food, his stomach added. 

He leaped at the closest food stand and grabbed a foot-long piece of bread. The merchant shouted something Boy couldn't hear, but Boy was already running down the street with the bread in hand. On his heels, though, was the merchant's guard. All merchants had to have guards in this town. Much taller and with longer legs than him, the guard soon caught up to Boy, pulling him up by the scruff of his neck. Panicking, Boy yelled out. "Help! He's trying to take what I've rightfully stolen! I'm just an innoccent pirate!" He didn't know why he added that last bit, but it had felt right.