[ WP ] You are a professional pickpocket . You 've just picked someones pocket only to discover that the thing you have stolen is truly horrifying .

I am merely a shadow amongst the many in this cold city. I can steal anything from anyone, and no one would ever know. I am a faceless thief that can simply disappear after picking a pocket - and no one would ever find me, and I'll never find them again. In this world of moving people, I like to pick out those who are rushing, frantic and distracted. It makes my job easier because I do n't need to make smoke and mirrors with cheap trickery and illusions. No, the frantic are lost in their own first world problems, usually business men - and I relish the chance to pick off suits. Why? Because they do n't care. They are so rich, a gold watch is replaced like tissue paper to them. They can afford it. 
 
 So here I am, in the shadows. Where are you suit? It's payday for me. Ah, the grey suit over there is frantic. He is sweating. Pushing his way through the crowd like he is more important than the others. I'll show him. I'll steal something good off him. That will teach that greed-monger. 
 
 Easy pickings. I just walk past him with a slight shimmy, and a gentle nudge, my hand dips into his coat pocket like lightning, and a scoops the content into my own. 
 
 Too easy. I dip back into the sea of people and disappear again. No one can find me. I'm that good. Time to seek refuge and see the spoils of victory. 
 
 I like to skim through a few more crowds and make at least several blocks distance before I indulge myself the enjoyment of my new gift. 
 
 Moving into an alleyway - far from the scene of the crime, I put my back to a wall and lean. I reach into my pocket and find a wallet. A plump wallet! Very nice. Ah, wallets. A leather bound purse of bountiful goodness in form of plastic. Time to open it and see what's inside? Cards in the front compartment, coins, receipts - lots of scrap paper. What's in the rear compartment? Cash notes? Let's see. 
 
 What? A tissue? That's odd. There's something wrapped in it. 
 
 Oh shit! A finger? It looks like a child's finger. Wait. What the hell? A note? 
 What does it say? 
 
 `` As proof that you are the father of the child we have kidnapped, bring your daughters finger to Warehouse 12, pier 9 of Jacobson Pier, Midday, sharp. This will be the final part of our deal as we have already received the $ 800,000 in cash from you. If you can not supply this proof - the girl will die.''
