Tony reckons that professional pick-pockets must be rubbing their hands with glee, as the festive season approaches.
I can see what he means: shops, pubs and public transport crammed with stupid tourists, all too distracted to notice that their hard-earned cash is being deftly taken from their pockets and bags.
The boy regrets that he never learnt how to pick-pocket, and says that in the next life he will make sure that he gets his slice of the pie, and even if he has to train 24 hours a day and 7 days a week, he will return as a professional pick-pocket.
Of course, Tony can be proud of the fact that he is already a petty thief - shoplifting being his speciality - but as he says, whilst it's rewarding to walk into a shop, steal a pair of jeans, and leave without paying, it would be even more rewarding if he could help himself to other peoples cash, without ever being caught.
Cash is King, as he often says, and even I would admit that a nice bundle of twenty or fifty pound notes would come in handy every now and then, to help pay for the cheeseburgers and lager we so dearly love to eat and drink.