1. Fish Out of the Pond

The first day in the actual penitentiary wasn't nearly as hard on him as he'd envisioned it. Although, that could have been attributed to the state of complete and utter shock that still afflicted him 31 days after the incident... 31 days of nervous sobriety in the humid fish tank... 31 days waiting for his new room and hoping none of the scary looking prisoners were keeping tabs on a pasty string bean like him... Eh, he'd be fine.

For reasons known only to God himself, around the hour of 12 noon on a Wednesday he got the idea in his head that he was in the mood for conversation.

"Hey, how's the weather up 'dere, m'man?"

A statuesque, roided out looking fellow with 10 rings lining his unibrow (and a glass eye) hunched over and looked into the soul of the lanky little man who dared open his mouth. After uttering an audible "GULP" sound, he shifted his body to look out the window instead with his chipper expression unchanged.

Contrary to his awkwardly jovial demeanor, Coach Z had always had a bit of a grim sense of humor. Due to some of his more unseemly habits being well known around town, like his frequent public intoxication, students often noted he seemed destined for prison life. "3 square meals a day," he'd reply with a slightly drooping grin and a distant look in his eye. Ha, that usually knocked the gossiping students out of their stupors. Anything to make them get back to class... and quite talking about him like he wasn't there.

But, come on! He was kidding. It's not like he actually hoped he'd end up in the big house – especially not for a crime he didn't commit (this time). To top it all off, orange really, really wasn't his color. (31 days, he'd counted them all.)

...Something told Coach Z his priorities were slightly eschew at the moment, but he didn't want to think about that. Nope. Not right now. Everything is alllll gravy. And absolutely nobody has anything to worry about. Even though there was this itching in the back of his (31 days) mind he couldn't quite shake. But, even if it wasn't obvious to anybody else, he was smiling. Soon he'd get a room of his own.

"Y'know, this place isn't half bad, amiright? Warden officer guy to my left?" Coach Z's hopeful eyes twitched a little.

Honestly, it was a miracle he'd kept his job as long as he did – well, a miraculous oversight on the part of the school district, that is. While he was genuinely passionate about his profession, even Coach Z had to admit that he had his fair share of issues. He was never good with people, especially when it came to women and personal space. And, while he couldn't bear to call himself "delusional," he's mused on occasion that sometimes he "forgets what's real, and what's in his head." Finally, he had one hell of a drinking problem that had intensified the last few years, only compounding his depression and desperation. Coach Z had dug quite the hole for himself, and it seemed to have finally collapsed on top of him.

There was a time when he had begun to attain a grasp on these issues, but it felt like a faraway dream now.