Peter walked down the hill towards the Baker's shop. Why did he always get the shitty jobs? All this bullshit about him being the 2nd in the gang and the leader's best friend was just a ploy to get him to do all the crap jobs. And how the hell was he going to afford to pay for this order? He wasn't getting any money in since he chucked his job as a fisherman to join the gang full time. "You know me, Pete," his self-imposed leader had told him, "I'll pay you back." Shit why was he so gullable; That bastard wound him round his little finger. Oh sod it, he knew the baker, he'd tell him he'd pay him back later. He arrived at the little shop, walked in and ordered: "5,000 loaves please."