“I would never hang around with creeps like that,” Fred said. “Saying the same things over and over, like old cons. Why do they do what they do, sitting there shooting the bull?” “Why do we do what we do? This is pretty damn monotonous, when you get down to it.” “But we have to; this is our job. We have no choice.” “Like the cons,” a scramble suit pointed out. “We have no choice.”
