"...And with that, I can safely say that 12 newspaper agencies have refused to employ me."
"Of course. They need a journalist, a writer, or someone capable. You are none of those. A pudding-heart. The only thing you can bring up as an achievement in your life, is winning the spaceship lottery."
"Oh I'm sorry. Not everyone has to be Edison 'save mankind' Trent. Mercenaries die everyday. I'm not straight out of a gunshow, I'm not some military professional. I'm just an average man, with an average life."
"...Who can't even get a decent job, and way too selective, and fussy to do any dirty work. Thus, anything you are qualified to do, can be done by a robot, but cheaper. I say you should do something with that ship, other than letting it rot in a hangar bay. Even that costs money. Get out there, and harass some trading caravan for an escort job, and clench your buttcheeks, in hope that no pirate decides to raid your caravan."
"Oh come on. That's all too close to being a mercenary. I'm not there to be a war hero."
"Then just sell the ship. You'll be well off for a few years, and I don't have to listen to you being pathetic either."
"I don't want to waste an opportunity like that. I took some courses already, to be able to fly that ship. You know me exactly. I always wanted to see the outer space. To explore. Preferably without exploding."
"Grow a pair then. Fly. Do whatever you want to. I'm already late from work. Because unlike you, I have a proper job."
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![[Image: Greed.gif]](http://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Greed.gif)