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It is officially hotter than the 12th circle of Hell here. As such, in non air-conditioned prisons such as mine, tempers are flaring left and right. We are expecting a gang fight any day now, due to the Aryans and the Crips taking one of the big floor fans in the Dayroom of one cellhouse hostage from each other. Then there was the "incident" last week, in which an inmate had been fired from his janitorial duties for playing poker instead of working, then was told he was moving to a different cell. He objected to both, on the grounds that being fired for fucking around rather than doing the job he was paid for was "not fair," and not wanting to move because he believed that the inmate he was going to be moving in with might be gay. The Sargent of that cellhouse told him that either he could move, or we would move him. As soon as his back was turned, the inmate starting hitting him with a closed fist which was later found to be holding a pencil (which stabbed him 8 times). The Sargent could only put his arms up to protect his head, and the inmate broke off a nearby broom handle and started pounding him with it. Of course, a Condition was called which quickly became an elevated condition for all available units to respond due to a weapon being present and the dreaded call "OFFICER DOWN!" One of the Counselors in that house heard the commotion and tried to help, and got a gash on top of his head that would require 6-8 stitches. But, he did manage to get a good enough grip on the broomstick to take control of it and wrestle the inmate to the ground. Then Response team showed up and proceeded to beat the piss out of the inmate, give him a heavy dose of mace, and then pick him up by the arms and legs and carry him to his Segregation cell where he was read his Miranda rights and is awaiting charges brought against him.
The Sargent and Counselor both got treated at the hospital and came back to work following the weekend. The inmate stated to the Lt that read him his Miranda rights, "I sorry about [Counselor]. Not the other one. I kill him." This inmate is already going to spend the rest of his life in prison for kidnapping and murder, so even if he succeeded in killing his target, what else could we really do to him? Add another life sentence, whoo-hoo. Maybe get the death penalty, and hasten his only means of getting out of here.
*Ahem* Anyway, on to less serious business.
IM = Inmate
CW = Coworker
SGT = Sargent
ME = Queen of Mean
Oh Snap!
IM: Hey, CO?
ME: Yeah?
IM: I want to go home.
ME: You are home.
IM:
IM2: DA-AAAAAMN!
Immediately after saying that, I walked away from his cell and continued on my rounds. Sometimes I even manage to impress myself.
Quack
I think I've mentioned it before, but we have an inmate in one of the Segregation (solitary confinement) houses that, er, got "intimate" with a duck. I pride myself on maintaining a very serious expression in front of inmates. This was put to the ultimate test as I assisted in cuffing and escorting this individual to the shower. The moment his door opened and he stepped out of his cell, the house erupted with quacking and cries of "Aflac!" To quote Lawrence the TV Specialist, "I don't care who you are, that's funny right there."
And Sometimes, Others Impress Me
In the dormitory unit, my fellow officer was attaching sheets of toilet paper to the ceiling fan in the Officers' station because he was bored and because he claimed it improves circulation. An inmate entered to return his pass from the Clinic.
IM: Man, I don't know if that's a good idea.
CW: What, like you've never done anything in your life you weren't supposed to?
Well done, my young apprentice. Give in to your sarcasm. I can show you the true power of the Dark Side.
Oh Snap, Part II
I was running the control room for a house one shift. As I was getting ready to close the dayroom period, I saw an inmate running out of his cell at top speed and jumping up on the rail on the edge of the walkway. Being that he lives on the top row, this railing is all that stands between him and a 25 foot drop to a concrete floor. Now, I personally don't mind if an inmate hurts himself, and I'll award bonus points for unintentionally killing himself, but I didn't feel like doing all the paperwork that would go along with it, nor causing everyone on the Response team to have to also do paperwork, so I buzzed into his cell intercom after closing the doors.
ME: Mr [Retard].
IM: Yeah.
ME: If you ever do that again, I will write you so many DR's your children will do Seg time.
IM: Uh......
ME: Do you understand?
IM: Y-yes.
A DR is a Disciplinary Report. It's basically a write-up for violating rules. There is a hearing, and the inmate is then sentenced. The length of Seg time (if any) is determined by the severity of their infraction. For his particular offense, it would be a Class III, which is pretty minor and I would actually write him a Summary of Judgment, which is kind of the same thing except it bypasses the hearing and I get to decide his punishment (and I always fine them. I find it hurts more when I hit them in the money). Of course, he doesn't know that.
He Will Join Us or Die
A new hire was getting some On-the-Job training as I came on shift. The inmates were all talking loudly and shouting across the house, which is something that is not allowed in this particular cellhouse.
CW: They want to know if they get Dayroom tonight.
ME: No one has lost their Dayroom... yet.
CW: So should I just tell them that?
ME: Tell them that if they keep quiet, they will get Dayroom tonight.
CW: *relays message*
ALL IM's: *quiet*
CW: Whoa.
ME: Works every time.
In time, you will call me Master.
Another Brick in the Wall
SGT: Can you call down to Food Service? This inmate didn't have any meat in his Common Fare meal (Common Fare = Kosher).
ME: Sure. Hey, was there any pudding?
SGT: I don't think so, why?
ME: Rats. I was hoping to write him up.
SGT:
ME: If I'm not mistaken, the rules state that if you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding.
SGT:
Yeah, I make my own fun.
How Mature...
Last night, as I was making rounds in the cellhouse, I saw spitwads on one inmates door. I pretended not to notice, already formulating a plan to destroy those responsible. A little later, on my next round, there were spitwads all over the floor. The 2 cells I suspected were in the corner, so I watched them out of the corner of my eye. I asked the Porter (cellhouse janitor) if he'd noticed any retards throwing spitwads lately, and he said no, but he was tired of cleaning them up. I said I would find them and ruin their day. Finally, I glanced over in time to get visual confirmation of these idiots flinging spitwads at each other's cells. I didn't have a SGT on duty in my house last night, so I called the Captain's Office.
LT: Yeah?
ME: If an inmate is throwing spitwads, would that just be Unsanitary Practices, or is there something else I can add to the charge?
LT: Hmm. Well, yes, I suppose that is unsanitary. For something like that, you could warn them, and if they do it again, then you can write them.
ME: Sigh, yeah, I suppose I could do that.....
I finished up some other tasks, then decided to go over and warn the inmates. No sooner did I start walking to their cells than the door to my side of the house opened and the Lieutenant walked in. He walked over to their cells and I kept quiet.
LT: Having fun, gentelman?
IM's: Uh...
LT: Is there a problem here?
IM: No.
IM2: No sir.
LT: Good. Gentlemen, this is prison, not grade school. I consider this mess to be an insult to both the facility and myself. Now, you will not do this crap again, or you will be spending some time in Segregation cells. Understood?
It goes without saying that he took their Dayroom for the evening, which I already had planned to do. We went back to the Officers' station. After the last Dayroom period ended, I had the Porter go get brooms and dustpans, and I got some disinfectant and washcloths.
Porter: Man, look at all this shit.
IM: Yeah, we were just screwing around.
IM2: Then Miss Deputy Dog there had to go and call the Sheriff.
ME: Let me tell you something. My preference is write-ups. I don't believe in warnings. But the Lieutenant is nicer than I am.
IM2: Shit, I don't care if you write me up. I'm getting out in 19 days anyway.
ME: Another thing I don't believe in is taking your Dayroom privilege for however many days. I'm a big fan of fines.
IM2: Oh...
ME: But don't worry. We're still going to have fun.
IM: Great.
ME *radios control officer to open their cells*: Now, gentlemen. There are brooms and dustpans. Here is a spray bottle. You are going to clean this mess up. Then you will lock down. Understood?
IM3 (a few cells down): Haha! Clean that shit up, boy!
The rest of the house joined in mocking them while they cleaned, then they went back to their cells. The best part came when I was putting the brooms and dust pans back in the supply closet, which was in the corner where their cells were.
IM: Thanks for letting us come out.
That's right, he thanked me for his punishment and ridicule.
And that ends another chapter.
The Sargent and Counselor both got treated at the hospital and came back to work following the weekend. The inmate stated to the Lt that read him his Miranda rights, "I sorry about [Counselor]. Not the other one. I kill him." This inmate is already going to spend the rest of his life in prison for kidnapping and murder, so even if he succeeded in killing his target, what else could we really do to him? Add another life sentence, whoo-hoo. Maybe get the death penalty, and hasten his only means of getting out of here.
*Ahem* Anyway, on to less serious business.
IM = Inmate
CW = Coworker
SGT = Sargent
ME = Queen of Mean
Oh Snap!
IM: Hey, CO?
ME: Yeah?
IM: I want to go home.
ME: You are home.
IM:
IM2: DA-AAAAAMN!
Immediately after saying that, I walked away from his cell and continued on my rounds. Sometimes I even manage to impress myself.
Quack
I think I've mentioned it before, but we have an inmate in one of the Segregation (solitary confinement) houses that, er, got "intimate" with a duck. I pride myself on maintaining a very serious expression in front of inmates. This was put to the ultimate test as I assisted in cuffing and escorting this individual to the shower. The moment his door opened and he stepped out of his cell, the house erupted with quacking and cries of "Aflac!" To quote Lawrence the TV Specialist, "I don't care who you are, that's funny right there."
And Sometimes, Others Impress Me
In the dormitory unit, my fellow officer was attaching sheets of toilet paper to the ceiling fan in the Officers' station because he was bored and because he claimed it improves circulation. An inmate entered to return his pass from the Clinic.
IM: Man, I don't know if that's a good idea.
CW: What, like you've never done anything in your life you weren't supposed to?
Well done, my young apprentice. Give in to your sarcasm. I can show you the true power of the Dark Side.
Oh Snap, Part II
I was running the control room for a house one shift. As I was getting ready to close the dayroom period, I saw an inmate running out of his cell at top speed and jumping up on the rail on the edge of the walkway. Being that he lives on the top row, this railing is all that stands between him and a 25 foot drop to a concrete floor. Now, I personally don't mind if an inmate hurts himself, and I'll award bonus points for unintentionally killing himself, but I didn't feel like doing all the paperwork that would go along with it, nor causing everyone on the Response team to have to also do paperwork, so I buzzed into his cell intercom after closing the doors.
ME: Mr [Retard].
IM: Yeah.
ME: If you ever do that again, I will write you so many DR's your children will do Seg time.
IM: Uh......
ME: Do you understand?
IM: Y-yes.
A DR is a Disciplinary Report. It's basically a write-up for violating rules. There is a hearing, and the inmate is then sentenced. The length of Seg time (if any) is determined by the severity of their infraction. For his particular offense, it would be a Class III, which is pretty minor and I would actually write him a Summary of Judgment, which is kind of the same thing except it bypasses the hearing and I get to decide his punishment (and I always fine them. I find it hurts more when I hit them in the money). Of course, he doesn't know that.
He Will Join Us or Die
A new hire was getting some On-the-Job training as I came on shift. The inmates were all talking loudly and shouting across the house, which is something that is not allowed in this particular cellhouse.
CW: They want to know if they get Dayroom tonight.
ME: No one has lost their Dayroom... yet.
CW: So should I just tell them that?
ME: Tell them that if they keep quiet, they will get Dayroom tonight.
CW: *relays message*
ALL IM's: *quiet*
CW: Whoa.
ME: Works every time.
In time, you will call me Master.
Another Brick in the Wall
SGT: Can you call down to Food Service? This inmate didn't have any meat in his Common Fare meal (Common Fare = Kosher).
ME: Sure. Hey, was there any pudding?
SGT: I don't think so, why?
ME: Rats. I was hoping to write him up.
SGT:
ME: If I'm not mistaken, the rules state that if you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding.
SGT:
Yeah, I make my own fun.
How Mature...
Last night, as I was making rounds in the cellhouse, I saw spitwads on one inmates door. I pretended not to notice, already formulating a plan to destroy those responsible. A little later, on my next round, there were spitwads all over the floor. The 2 cells I suspected were in the corner, so I watched them out of the corner of my eye. I asked the Porter (cellhouse janitor) if he'd noticed any retards throwing spitwads lately, and he said no, but he was tired of cleaning them up. I said I would find them and ruin their day. Finally, I glanced over in time to get visual confirmation of these idiots flinging spitwads at each other's cells. I didn't have a SGT on duty in my house last night, so I called the Captain's Office.
LT: Yeah?
ME: If an inmate is throwing spitwads, would that just be Unsanitary Practices, or is there something else I can add to the charge?
LT: Hmm. Well, yes, I suppose that is unsanitary. For something like that, you could warn them, and if they do it again, then you can write them.
ME: Sigh, yeah, I suppose I could do that.....
I finished up some other tasks, then decided to go over and warn the inmates. No sooner did I start walking to their cells than the door to my side of the house opened and the Lieutenant walked in. He walked over to their cells and I kept quiet.
LT: Having fun, gentelman?
IM's: Uh...
LT: Is there a problem here?
IM: No.
IM2: No sir.
LT: Good. Gentlemen, this is prison, not grade school. I consider this mess to be an insult to both the facility and myself. Now, you will not do this crap again, or you will be spending some time in Segregation cells. Understood?
It goes without saying that he took their Dayroom for the evening, which I already had planned to do. We went back to the Officers' station. After the last Dayroom period ended, I had the Porter go get brooms and dustpans, and I got some disinfectant and washcloths.
Porter: Man, look at all this shit.
IM: Yeah, we were just screwing around.
IM2: Then Miss Deputy Dog there had to go and call the Sheriff.
ME: Let me tell you something. My preference is write-ups. I don't believe in warnings. But the Lieutenant is nicer than I am.
IM2: Shit, I don't care if you write me up. I'm getting out in 19 days anyway.
ME: Another thing I don't believe in is taking your Dayroom privilege for however many days. I'm a big fan of fines.
IM2: Oh...
ME: But don't worry. We're still going to have fun.
IM: Great.
ME *radios control officer to open their cells*: Now, gentlemen. There are brooms and dustpans. Here is a spray bottle. You are going to clean this mess up. Then you will lock down. Understood?
IM3 (a few cells down): Haha! Clean that shit up, boy!
The rest of the house joined in mocking them while they cleaned, then they went back to their cells. The best part came when I was putting the brooms and dust pans back in the supply closet, which was in the corner where their cells were.
IM: Thanks for letting us come out.
That's right, he thanked me for his punishment and ridicule.
And that ends another chapter.
.
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