Secret Meeting

I mean, yeah, that happens for sure, but the jailers don't care?!

Well, I want you to look at them careful.

*Clicks tongue* Sure do love a good inmate fight.

We hit the jackpot with today's shift.

Hahah, right you are.

This is the moment. The only joy working in this hellhole.

Get their asses, A-Zoners! I'm watchin' you!

You see that? They're living it up like no one else here.

Plus, the side that wins gets slightly better eats for the next while.

So this is all their fun? What's stopping us from just not fighting?

Not fighting? Kafka, you know how I got slammed up?

Took the scruff of everyone who looked down on me, and I socked 'em!

Hey, Kafka. I reckon, all the places in the goddamn world, this is the only one where you can bust Non-Infected jaws and the fuzz can't even be assed to slap you on the wrist.

Beat someone to death? You get locked in for a while.

Besides, if you're really gonna die, you're gonna die. Who's scared of that in prison?

Beh, I'm done. You get it. I'm gonna go back and make hay. You find somewhere and stay low!

Beh yourself. You're lookin' down on Kafka, you know.

But man. I guess the Infected and the Non-Infected still live the same old clash in here.

Not just living it, even. Idea's gone mutant. Supermutant.

I've seen a thing or two outside, but I've gotta admit, if this ain't a first for me... If Silence was watching this, she'd be sick to the bone.

But sorry, Silence, 'cause I'm different. Heheh.

Messier the sitch gets, the more I like it.

You fight your thing, and I'll go see what pies I can't get my fingers in. That gets me ready for the next bit...

Yeuch, who sneaked their leftovers out for a box lunch?

Why's there a sock here...?

I guess that's what you get in a real prison. Y'all do what you're meant to, huh. Not finding anything I could really use though...

Buuut...

Drop dead, dirtbag!

Drop dead yourself!

Ooh, they're going at it. And the long-timers here don't play fair, either. They've been making all sortsa weapons on the down low.

Come on, get madder. Then drop something for me. Heheh.

Ngh!

I got a stray one here, heh-heh-heh...

Aw, nerts, that girl's in trouble!

Maybe I oughta go help...

......

Heh, heh...

Oops. She was hiding something up her sleeve, looks like. Interesting, interesting...

What's going on here?!

Superintendent Barton, sir! The prisoners are fighting!

And you're sitting there watching? You ain't stoppin' them?

Oh, Superintendent. Time's up?

I don't give a hoot which way the time is, it's our duty as jailers to manage the prisoners!

Yes, sir.

Hey, you lot! Superintendent says it's time to quit it!

*Columbian slang*

*Columbian dialect*

Urgh. I've said it before and I'll say it again. This is prison. Not your consarned battlefield.

Y'all should be workin' proper. Actin' proper. Only way your moms, pops 'n' buds out there'll see you a day sooner. You hear me?

I'm tellin' you this for your own good...

Tch. Here we go again.

Wow, there's a couple marks on you. Y'alright?

Right as rain. Scratches! And I got to smash in a few A-Zone dirtbags for the trouble. Heheh, fine deal to me!

And it winds down like this every time?

You mean Barton?

Yeah, more or less. He's the jailers' Super. Always shows up at times like these, puts on the vaudeville and hits the brakes. Then says some meaningful crap.

Especially moments like now when the place's stopped over at a city, the warden's gone and he acts like he's lord of the prison.

Dropped on his head as a kid.

But it ain't every time this happens, I'll tell you that.

Plenty of times it don't stop for nothin'... I'd say most of the time, actually. Not that often it's over when over says, like today.

But when it just won't end, you'll see Barton call in his safety.

His what?

Yup. There he is.

......

Anthony?!

Looks like you really do know him.

I mean, I've only seen him all dressed up before...

You oughta learn from Mr. Anthony's example here.

He might be a prisoner, but he esteems rationality, and he does not make his first resort violence. In his downtime, he likes to read. Write. Listen to records. Mighty fine boy!

Bleuch.

You don't like Anthony?

No, no, no, don't get me wrong, Kafka.

Ain't no-one in this prison who'd cross Anthony.

Usually, he's just like Barton said. Good to other folks. But we all know he's the biggest, muscliest goddamn shot in this place.

They say when he came into prison, first thing he did was go and beat every last guy in C-Zone into line.

Damn right. And anyone else from C-Zone barely gets to meet us, but he's the real thing. Swell as a bell. A-Zone or B-Zone, everyone falls in with him.

Yeah. I'm just barfing having to look at Barton.

Listen to him. You think he's praisin' Anthony right now? He's mocking him.

Anthony's the only guy he can't lift his head against, but he needs Anthony to wrangle us, so this is the only way he can do it.

We are Mansfield State Prison. State! Prison. We are a pilot penitentiary with special approval from the capital. We will serve as a shining example to the other states.

Tch. We're a crowd of convicts. Example your face...

In short, I hope you can now reflect on yourselves. Reflect for my sake!

Let's go, Anthony. You've got an hour of hittin' the books today.

Hm.

So usually you don't even see Anthony?

Usually, I guess?

Timetabling for the serious offenders is outta step with ours, and most of the time they're just staying in the C-Zone tower.

What, you wanna see him?

Mayhaps I do.

I wanna talk about something with him. Obviously, not something the jailers can know about.

Don't worry, I get'cha. If you wanna have a little heart-to-heart with him, it's not like you don't have a shot...