I’m in serious trouble. I’m finally at my new prison, and it’s a MEDIUM security place this time. If I couldn’t survive at the LOW I was in previously, how could I possibly persevere here? Will the gremlins get me as soon as I set foot on the compound? I guess I’ll find out soon enough. For now, I need to get my head back in the game and check my equipment.
Let’s see . . .
- Toilet paper whip: CHECK
- The HAT (made from toothpaste and notebook paper): CHECK
- Imaginary pistol: CHECK
Okay, I’m all set for a new adventure! Oh, wait – I forgot about my music! Where’s my theme song? You know, that sweet John Williams orchestral score.
( . . . )
Uh, Sound Department, where is my theme song?
♫ Bad boys, bad boys, what’cha gonna do, what’cha gonna do when they come for you? ♫
Hey! That’s the opening to C.O.P.S.! Where is my theme?!
Sound Department Guy: “That is your theme. Now gimme my stamps. I got gambling debts to pay off.”
Great. Leave it to another felon to spoil the mood. So anyway, it’s time to head out to the compound and stomp a few Nazis – uh, gremlins, I mean. (Is there a difference?)
The police finally let me on the compound after a three-hour intake process. Fortunately, I keistered my equipment before I boarded the bus in Atlanta, so I was fully armed and ready to go. Several gremlins were released on the compound with me, so I knew that I had to take these guys out first. A few had become suspicious of me on that long bus ride, and I know that having your still-beating heart ripped out while getting tossed into a pit of scorching lava would be a good death compared to what they had waiting for me.
As soon as the guards turned their backs, I retrieved my pistol from its holster (yeah, I have a holster for my imaginary pistol), and I opened fire. There were four gremlins standing in front of me with their tattoo-covered bodies and dullard expressions, and I mowed them down with (imaginary) hot lead.
A curious thing occurred as I emptied my clip at them. Well, uh, nothing happened. The tall, muscular guy scratched his head while a guy to his left just picked his nose and stared at me. I looked at my pistol in disgust. Medium-level gremlins are immune to pretend bullets! Have they no limit to their inhuman powers?
I would have tried to dispatch them with hand-to-hand techniques, but unfortunately they weren’t wearing handcuffs behind their backs. ;) I ran away instead.
I decided to find my housing unit. All new inmates are randomly assigned to their cells, so I needed to see if my room had a gremlin infestation or not. To get there, I had to walk along a narrow sidewalk that ran the length of the compound. On either side of the sidewalk were fields of well-trimmed grass with signs that said that the grass was off-limits to the inmates. Once careless step into the grass could mean a trip to the hole if a cop was watching. Although cutting across the grass would mean saving a lot of time, I decided to play it safe since the hole was not a place I cared to revisit.
I made my trek along the sidewalk, and I was not alone. The complete length of the walk was full of prisoners headed to one place or another. Some were headed for the rec yard, while others were moving towards the library or chapel. The sun was going down, and I wanted to get to my unit soon. I didn’t want to be a new s.o. walking the compound after dark.
I had barely made ten feet of progress when the gremlins from before had spotted me. “There’s the chomo that thinks he’s Han Solo! Get him!” the leader ordered.
Right actor, wrong movie, nimrod. I wanted to tell him that, but I was too busy running away.
The four thugs chased me down half the length of the walk. I would have gotten farther, but another inmate blocked my way. This balding gentleman looked to be in the latter half of his thirties. He was so morbidly obese, he needed a wheelchair to get around the compound. His pimply face and the telescope lenses he wore in his eyeglass frames didn’t help his appearance, either. This guy had to be a fellow s.o., and I would have greeted him if it weren’t for the fact that I was in self-preservation mode.
The gremlin leader shouted, “Hey fatty, the guy in the paper Hat has FREE POTATO CHIPS! You better get some before he runs out!”
The man in the wheelchair needed no further encouragement. I don’t know where he got the strength from, but he suddenly moved towards me at velocities that Racer X would have envied. If I didn’t get out of his way, he was gonna squish me flat as a pancake.
Other felons dove out of the wheelchair’s path as the man darted after me. I had no choice but to turn around and head back towards my pursuers. This is what the gremlins wanted.
At the time, my body was pumping out too much adrenaline for me to think straight, but as I look back on the moment, it felt kinda like being chased by a giant boulder . . . I ran with all the speed I could muster, but the wheelchair was quickly catching up to me. (I guess free chips were that important.)
The gremlins smiled as they waited for me with open arms. I knew it would be kidney punches and not hugs they would give, so I had other ideas. I dove into the grass just before I got within range of my enemies’ clutches.
Wheelchairs weren’t designed for the speeds this one was moving at, and the man had no time for a course correction. He crashed into my four antagonists and felled them like ugly, dumb bowling pins. The collision knocked all five of them unconscious. I got up, dusted myself off, and got back on the sidewalk. Fortunately, the only guards in sight were snoozing, so they didn’t catch me on their precious grass.
I resumed my journey to my housing unit, hoping that the rest of the trip would be uneventful. It wasn’t.
I saw the most unlikely thing you can find in a men’s federal correctional facility – a female inmate.
She was beautiful with shoulder-length blonde hair, and sapphire eyes so haunting that any man would forget his own name if he gazed into them long enough. She glided towards me with cat-like grace and complete confidence. As she approached, she gave me the slightest of smiles and I found myself blushing. I glanced over her lithe frame and saw that everything was in order. She had no breasts, true enough, but the rest of her was a sight to behold. Flat stomach, curvaceous hips, enormously bulging crotch . . . HUH? Enormously bulging crotch?
The young woman caught me eyeing her groin and asked, “Do you like?” She dropped her government-issued pants and showed me the largest set of male equipment I’d ever seen in my life. Her womanhood turned out to be as fake as my pistol.
Snakes! Why did it have to be trouser snakes?!
A cop witnessed the whole scene, and stopped me before I could RUN FOR MY LIFE. “You,” the overweight policeman said to me, “sex between inmates is not allowed. I’m going to have to take you into custody for trying to solicit sexual favors from Sarah here.”
As if “Sarah” had done no wrong! The cop made a kissy-face to the inmate posing as a woman, and Sarah made the same face in return. The cop also pretended to ignore the fact that this guy’s junk was still showing. The guard obviously had a thing for Sarah, and was on a mission to eliminate all threats, real or perceived. I knew I was going to the hole, unless . . .
I used the last weapon I had. My trusty whip.
I landed a solid blow to the guard’s face as he pulled out his walkie-talkie to talk to whoever. It’s a shame my whip is made out of bathroom tissue, because if it were real leather, it might have had an actual effect. At least my attack was too quick for his eyes to follow. He had no idea where the blow came from.
“Hey! Which one of you did that?” The cop was quite irritated.
I said nothing, but instead pointed to the fake woman, and then at his sizable package, which was still dangling between his knees.
The cop was outraged. “You slapped me in the face with your . . . Put your hands behind your back! I’m taking you instead!”
I was free to go, and I FINALLY made it to my unit. I was safe – well, safe until I met my cellmate, that is.
To be continued . . .
COMING SOON: Indiana Joe and the Kingdom of the Crystal Meth Heads (I sure hope not)
No comments:
Post a Comment