"Just can't stay away from me can you?" The Warden grinned, showing the gap between his teeth at the Mistress's frown-creased face. Ultraprison, having been on a course that took them right by Superjail, had decided to stop for a short visit. Truth be told, it was mainly to get Chareese to stop sobbing over her infatuation with Jared. The woman was positively heartsick for the accountant and wouldn't let Mistress forget about it. After much thought and several sleepless nights, she had consented and approached the jail.

"Don't flatter yourself, Warden," she said, slapping her riding crop into her open palm. "I have a responsibility to the productivity of my prison to examine and learn from other prisons." She stopped in the middle of the hallway, thwacking her crop against his chest and bringing him up short. "This is not about you. I could not care less about your oversized ego. Now, let's move on." She turned and continued on.

"Hmph." The Warden tweaked his bowtie, turned up his nose, and strode forward to keep up. He glanced at the Mistress, at her firm face and rigid posture. He could not fathom why she had to be so uptight, so severe about everything. It really got under his skin whenever his thoughts turned to her, and it was even worse with her here right now. Not that he thought about her often! Just… every now and then, when he was particularly bored, his mind would drift, and lately it had been returning with memories of her and the inevitable stress she caused him. Of course he would never admit that he had taken extra time this morning to get ready when Jared told him of Ultraprison's planned visit.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows coming together over her pink glasses. "What?"

"Huh?" He blinked.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like… how you were just looking at me." She waved her hand at him.

"How was I just looking at you?" He gripped his cane, sweat forming on his palms. Why in the hell was he sweating? He had nothing to be ashamed of. He had zoned out. That was all.

"You know what? Forget it. Let's just keep moving."

They walked on in strained silence. Finally they ended up in the cafeteria, where Jailbot, Alice, and Jared were already in the middle of what looked to be another subpar meal. The Warden and the Mistress seated themselves, leaving at least two feet of space between their chairs.

"Good afternoon, Mistress," said Jared, setting aside his soda and breaking out in a nervous sweat. "How are you enjoying your visit?"

"Like how I enjoy my period." Her lip curled.

The Warden's face twisted in disgust. "Not while I'm eating."

"You're not eating, moron." She barely spared him more than a glance before returning her attention to Jared. The Warden sulked in his seat.

"I… I'm sorry to hear about that," Jared said, tugging at his tie. "Well, I was wondering if perhaps you knew where Chareese was? I thought she would be with you so…"

"She's back on the ship," a slight smile turned her lips, "waiting for you. Better hurry." Much as she disliked the entire population of Superjail, she had a bit of a soft spot for Jared and his jittery nature. He seemed to be the only sane and mature one in the whole place. If Chareese was going to end up with anyone, it might as well be him.

"Oh," he said, jumping to his feet. "Yes, of course. T-thank you, Mistress. I─" His sentence vanished as soon as he turned and rammed into a passing inmate. Jared stumbled backward, grabbing the edge of the table to keep from falling.

The inmate dropped his tray with a sound like a mother's slap. He rounded on Jared, already raising his fists over a head of bristly hair. Jailbot zipped forward, snatching up the prisoner in one claw and tearing his head from his body with the other.

A riot erupted in the middle of the cafeteria.

The Warden leapt to his feet, crying for Jailbot and Alice to control the prisoners. While he loved a good blood fest, he dreaded being in the middle of one. He knew how bad the collateral damage could be, and his fear of death crept up his spine to wrap around his neck like a jealous lover's hands. His hands trembled.

"Warden," said the Mistress, ducking from a flung liver. "Control your prisoners. What kind of Warden are you?"

"The kind that's getting out of here." He spun, ready to tear out of the cafeteria and to the safety of his office.

But, just as he turned, he ran into the outstretched knife of an inmate.

The Warden's choked gasp cut through the tumult of the room, casting an iron silence on everyone. The inmate, a skinhead with fiery eyebrows and the tail of a tattoo snake curling out from under his left sleeve, backed away, taking the stolen kitchen knife with him. His footsteps tapped across the tile, the only sound in the room aside from the awful noises coming out of the Warden's throat.

He clasped his hands over the wound and staggered a step. His face was pale as bad milk, and his mouth hung open like he wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out.

Jared ran over, sweat pouring down his face. "Sir, don't worry. I'll get the Doctor. You'll be okay." Alice was already contacting the Doctor while Jailbot went to his creator.

The Warden turned his head at a glacial pace. It was painful to see. His eyes held a wide question behind those yellow glasses. "What?" The question was soft, short, and hopelessly disturbing. He didn't understand what was happening to him. He was thoroughly disbelieving of what had just occurred. Suddenly, his head whipped forward again, staring off ahead of him. His shoulders jerked. He coughed a little, and a few fingertips of blood crawled down his bottom lip. He looked down, moved his hands, stared at the bloody palms and the dark smear growing on his stomach.

Then his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling, and he passed out on the cafeteria floor.