A guard walked across the shadowy passage of a prison. He flashed his torch on the face of an inmate, who was holding the bars and hurling ‘I’m thirsty!’ at him. “Hire a maid,” he mockingly suggested.
No sooner he reached the cell entrance than a rat sneaked into a hole in the brick wall. The clatter of the cell awakened all the inmates, including those who were dead asleep. The brilliance of their eyeballs was startling. They probably thought someone was meeting the hangman on that night. Since no one could sniff death and not pick up a fight or flight, they all raised their eyebrows.
After lighting the faces of the inmates in turns, the guard summoned two, put on their restraints, and ordered them to walk out ahead of him.
One of the inmates swiftly held his trousers, which was about to expose his manliness. “Um,” he protested while the guard ordered him without consideration. He managed to exit the cell and walked alongside his fellow inmate across the passage.
The inmates were meeting with a man in one of the prison offices although none of the two parties could see each other’s face. The meeting was holding in the dark.
As they sat before their guest, the inmates heard him clear his throat twice. “Gentlemen, I’ve heard enough about you guys,” he said. “But I don’t mind if you could introduce yourselves to me in the way you want to be addressed.”
Few seconds passed in silence. He would have concluded the inmates were dumb until he reworded his thought. “I mean, can we get to know each other?”
“Gentlemen don’t stay here, OK?” one of the inmates snapped.
“Oh, sorry. Innocent people do find themselves here anyway.”
“We didn’t claim that.”
“All right. I would like to know you,” the man maintained.
“I’m Mount. He is Arry.”
“Call us Mount Arry,” Arry chipped in.
“That’s great! What if I call you guys ‘The Mountain’?”
“That’s gibberish! I have told you who we are,” Mount said with firmness.
“All right!” the man said. He thrust his hand into his bag and brought out two straps of money. Landing them on the table, he pushed them toward the two inmates.
“What do you want?” Arry queried.
“My friends, that’s your pocket money.”
“And what do you want?” Arry insisted.
To be continued.
