The Golden Boy
I sipped my beer so slowly that it lasted me the entire night of dancers. I gave the bartender a fifty I had snatched off Johnny's desk. The dude's desk was cluttered with papers and junk, some of which was just loose cash.
And he never put it away, because what did he care if he had a measly thousand dollars stuffed between papers on his desk? He personally made that much in half an hour. I'm not talking about the business as a whole. I'm talking about his personal salary.
Aside from the money I had snatched off his desk though, I was flat broke. I had millions of gold giblets but no way to turn them into money without potentially getting caught. And despite how little I liked keeping a low profile, I would have to be careful until I could make it back underground.