Between friends or thieves there’s never justice or honour. Same coin, different pockets. Same handshake, different dagger. They would fly in their own pockets if it meant one more gram of gold. Cut the lining, stitch the lie, sell your name before the ink dries. Swear it on a bible with fingers crossed, pop the bubble before the oath lands. Wax seal broken. Trust dissolved. NULLA FIDES INTER FURES — no faith among thieves, no faith among friends when the price is right. Who meets human? Who feels human heat and doesn’t think prey? Who sits at the table and doesn’t count the silver? Eat human. Not with teeth — with contracts. With small print. With “I’m on your side” while the other hand palms the coin. Courtroom at 1:40pm. Bible open. Bubble trembling. Every witness is a vulture wearing your friend’s face. Between friends or thieves — what’s the difference when the pockets are deep and the honour is cheap? Pop.