Bathroom Monologue: All Alone

I'm in a class of my own, but that's not a good thing. There used to be fourteen thieves in my class. About as good, some even went to the same school. I'm on my own now because most of them got their dumb asses killed. Two retired, married each other. They wound up getting killed a couple years later when one of their marks finally caught up with them. The other twelve happen to have tried to pinch the same Philosopher’s Egg you’re offering me the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity at. If I can guess, it’s once-in-a-lifetime for me. For you, maybe thirteen times in a lifetime? Very easy for you to make the offer of 80/20 when it’s only your partners who wind up sliced up by invisible wires or chowed upon by the gryphon hatchlings that nest up there. 80/20? It’s rich, but the only thing I’d to spend it on is my funeral. And I don't even want a coffin. A cremation and a quiet service with a couple dozen up-and-comers, to see who can steal me first. Up on the altar, not some elaborate place. I want them to compete against each other, not these psychotic traps that necessitate so many great thief funerals.