“If I went into Battle, I would have to make friends,” I supposed. “Alliances. That is how most people survive.”
“Duckie, do not think about that.”
It was my life. I needed too. “While you attempt to get me out, I will focus on making friendships in case I am put through to the battle.”
“And how on earth are you supposed to do that?” Magnus laughed. “Offer them shortbread?”
8
“Excuse me, would you like some short bread?” I held out the box. “Don’t worry, it's not poison. I am a good person.”
The man who I offered it to—an axe murderer, I think—rebuffed my advance and showed me his back. I decided he was probably gluten free.
Fortunately, a woman killed two people and so she was considered more violent than a girl who beat another with a prosthetic limb which meant my cell was given to her and I was back in gen pop.
At least I did not hear “Princess” every few seconds. The single word teased up my inner thighs spreading his voice into all my insides.
I used my time productively to secure alliances.
All inmates belonged to different groups/cliques/factions/gangs—whatever the term they used to describe their very ostentatious grouping system, letting others know proudly who they liked and who they did not. No one had a flag, and I thought that a wasteful opportunity.
I was not sure how to go about becoming a new member of a gang. There were no application forms for the prerequisites.
“Do you eat cunt?”
“Do I what?” I leaned in further to the group of all women.
A fabulous group to start with. Seven females glued to each other in united sisterhood and so I asked if I could join. Me and my shortbread.
“Do you fuck women?” she asked. “We only accept females that fuck other women.”
“I’ve slept with both men and women in experimentation to seek out a proper orgasm, however that failed. I feel nothing towards anyone, so I am yet to discover my sexual preferences. Unless—do you happen to wear sunglasses?”
“Look, you can’t be with us unless you eat cunt.”
I pursed my lips. “Why not eat shortbread?”
They did.
After, they decided it was not as good as eating cunt and declined accepting me and said that they would kill me later for interrupting them.
Everyone busied in their factions, it was almost sweet in a way. These loveless, lonely people finding companionship. Even the Soulless did not allow themselves to become abandoned.
Meanwhile, I stood alone, carrying my shortbread box.
But then I pricked into instant glee finding my oldest and dearest friend out of them all.
“Panty snatcher!” I ran to him, waving huge.
My old bunk mate from jail sat in a group of others. Upon seeing me, the panty snatcher dropped with mortification.
“Hello!” I beamed a smile. “Good day. How are you? I was wondering, can I join your group?”
“Don’t talk to her.” My old bunk mate told the others. “She asked me to kill myself. She’s a monster!”
“No, I'm not,” I said. “I am a good person!”
They showed me their shoulders.
