Title: Knitting? Are you freaking kidding me?
Summary: What if jewelry-making and ashtry-making weren't the only crafts the whack shack inhabitants had to do? This takes place while Michael is still in the whack shack, trying to get the blueprints from Haywire.
Genre: Humor
Rating: I'll say PG-13 to be on the safe side, certainly nothing nearly as bad as you see on the show will happen in this.
Author's note: This is just a silly fic I wrote in the last 5 minutes. I've been trying to learn to knit and it's hard for me so I'm taking out my frustration this way. Hope you all enjoy it! It's not meant to be anything more than (hopefully) something that'll make you laugh. Feedback is appreciated. I've never written PB humor fic before though I have written Harry Potter and X-Men humor fic. (Also, for those of you who don't know this, "Mr. Patoshik" is Haywire's real name).
Knitting? Are you freaking kidding me?
"Today, class, we're going to learn how to knit," said Martha (yes, that was her real name) in her usual nasal twine. "Now, pick up the needle with your left hand and…" Michael tuned her out. He sighed inwardly. He realized that he had to make certain sacrifices to get his brother out of prison, but this was ridiculous.
"Mr. Scofield, please pay attention!" snapped Martha. What the hell was this, the fourth grade? Yeesh! "Now, who can tell me the difference between knit and purl?"
A few people actually raised their hands. Michael thought they must be high. Unfortunately, Martha non-Stewart chose to ignore those hands and focused her gaze directly on Michael. Oh, crap. "Mr. Scofield, do you know the difference between the knit stitch and the purl stitch?"
Michael glared. He didn't care that he had to keep up appearances to get those missing blueprints from Haywire – he had had enough. "Yes, I do. Knit is the first half of the word you are (wit being the other half), and purl is the color of your dentures after you soak them in Dentucreme every night."
Needless to say, Martha did not take this well. And her punishment was too horrible to bear. She gritted her teeth and shot Michael a death glare back. "Just for that, Mr. Scofield, do you know what I'm going to do?"
"Ground me?"
"No," said Martha coolly. "Much worse than that. I'm going to make you wear Mr. Patoshik's latest knitting project. And you will have to wear it all day long."
And Michael watched in horror as Martha took a hideous pink and purple-striped sweater w/glittery gold fuzzy pom poms all over it and, as the strong arms who tried to forced Michael to take the sedatives held down his arms to keep him from struggling, forced it over Michael's head.