Hey-yo! It’s me. We’re still in the black today, heading towards our next heist. Well, I like to call ‘em heists. Momma calls ‘em gigs, Uncle Mal calls ‘em jobs, and Uncle Simon calls them travesty’s of law and consequences, after he’s had a few.
I’m not sure how exactly I feel about some (most) of our less… legitimate business ventures. I got no problem with smuggling, but stealing from business that employ honest folk, well, just rubs me the wrong way.
I don’t got no room to complain, though. Those jobs are what have substained my famly and kept us flying, since before I was born.
We don’t take too many of those jobs anyway. I think they secretly rub Uncle Mal the wrong way too.