(You can read part one here)

When I returned to my cell, I found that all my prison issue had already gone ‘poof’ by the pilfering populous. But of course! I sat in my cell in the spot where my issue had been, and listened to my cellmate snore violently. I took some toilet paper from the roll attached to the toilet/sink/dishwasher/laundromat, and wadded it to plug my ears… sort of.

“What are you in for, homie?” a brother asked.

“I killed some Arian biker dudes in a bar brawl, but I tell you man… I’m innocent!”

“Que hicistes?” (what did you do) the grinning brother repeated.

“Driving with a revoked license.”

“Shit homie, you be gone tomorrow.” the man sneered and left.

A brother from upstairs came down and inexplicably handed me a pack of ramen noodles and a pack of Doritos chips. “Thank you, brother!” I graced him sincerely.
I laid them on the floor where I typically sat, and wished them the best of luck.