The edges of Raylan's casually friendly smile curled into something warmer as he sat back down on the couch. "Here's a thought for you to chew on, might not be any good, I might be as dumb as I look but.. Who's to say that all that experience ain't what was meant to set you into the job you're in now?"

His chin lifted, eyes down for a moment as he continued before coming up to meet Neal's too blue eyes again. Jesus, those eyes.

"Used to know a guy called Hot Rod Rodney Dunham. Ran weed mostly, low level kinda DEA stuff.. He was a CI for the Marshal's Service until he was old as hell. There's a path for you that runs along side the law. Seems, from what I can gather, that maybe you've.." He inhaled, eyes going back out to a thousand yard stare at the living room floor. "Been Overhandled. But," he continued as though he hadn't said such a thing, "-Like I said before, ain't nothin' to steal here. Nothin' more than food, really. And you don't seem.. addicted to it, in such a way. It'll be alright."