Governed Retribution

2

Shelbourne knew that the Arizona State Prison was in no shape or form pleasant. Not to mention the multiple doctors that he was forced to visit due to his weight gain. The court sentenced him to 24 years of prison time for the influenced damage to the town of Swallow Falls, or at the time known as Chew and Swallow. Flint Lockwood and his father confirmed the poor conduct that the mayor expressed during the lab. Had he not been in the way, the destruction of Swallow Falls could have very well been avoided. Any leftovers could have been taken care of in a far shorter amount of time compared to the collateral impairment the town suffered from. The former mayor knew he should have never eaten the food boat he was on, and he paid a cold price for it: time behind bars. Nevertheless, that didn't mean Shelbourne was entirely shut from the world.

"Current events for your Monday report: deconstruction of the former company Live Corp is down to its last 2 days of work before completion. Confirmation of the death of Chester V, CEO of Live Corp was announced last Saturday, September 28th. Citizens of San Franjose are..."

He watched the television's anchorman ramble on and on about the broken business. It was a rinky-dinky, dusty old thing, probably dating back to the 1980s, barely hanging on to the hook that equipped it close to the cracked ceiling. The channels rapidly cut in and out quickly, a reminder of what was left behind at Swallow Falls. Sitting close, however, earned him the ability to hear better compared to those who attempted to watch from the back of the cafeteria. Sometimes the obnoxious voices and miscellaneous noises crawled under his skin when he was trying to pay attention, especially with upcoming town elections, but the topic of today was none of his concern. And whenever the Lockwoods were on, interviewed by what seemed like every news station that could ever exist, Shelbourne did everything in his power to tune the damn thing out.

Doesn't matter, he thought. Leftover expenses should take care of this situation. He would take care of the twerpy little twit later. Right now, he needed to get out of this hellhole. Picking at his pile of surely expired green peas with his fork, the former mayor sat alone, wishing he had more of that food weather in place of this disgusting filth the cafeteria ladies splat on his plate. He couldn't count how many dents from punches and throws were carved into the brittle plastic. Gray, gloomy, lifeless - it was these characteristics of the surrounding walls that made him feel all too familiar with his home. It was horrible, and an occasional potato or carrot would be tossed at him during his quiet moments, followed by a sharp "keep eating, fatass!" or "pigs don't sit at the table!". Repetition made it almost daily, and let's not forget the typical "that is one big mayor" quote inaudibly muttered every time he passed down the hall on his scooter. Ignoring the annoying knuckle-scrapers and projecting his hatred towards the inventor that ruined him was the only thing that kept him sane. Numerous bent metal forks and spoons were returned to the kitchen because of it. There was only one thing to do during this time of solitude: to plot and scheme.

That tiny idiot will pay for what he's caused. This was just a temporary setback for his revenge. Nothing lasts forever. A little fall of rain couldn't hurt him.

"All inmates last names N through T to the visitation room!"

The prisoner smirked. He swallowed his corndog whole, wiping his orange pants.

"Perfect timing."

"I swear to God, this is the last time I will do anything for you," a voice snapped. Turning his gaze upward, Shelbourne looked at the one person in his life he knew he could count on: Ben. His brother, who was far slimmer than he could now ever be, took a seat across from the rickety table, hands shuffling filed paperwork. The former mayor smirked.

"It's good to see you, too."

"Don't give me that tone. You've caused trouble in this family since the very beginning. If mom was still here, you know you'd have no way out of this."

"Blah, blah, blah - save me the lecturing, Ben. Do you have all of the ransom?" His brother glared.

"Yes, but I barely managed to get it in time. Do you have any idea how much I've worked for this?" he exclaimed, his eyes narrowing. Sweeping away the stray chestnut hair on his forehead, he drew in a deep breath. He should've known his sibling would have gotten himself into another sticky situation such as this. The trouble started in middle school. He had high hopes for high school, but those were quickly crushed. It wasn't necessarily violence he got himself involved in, but the absolute indolence was astounding. College should have turned him straight, he had thought for years, but even then, well... Mayor Shelbourne always had to find a way to prove him wrong. How could going to prison compared to keeping his town position - like Ben had hoped - be any different?

"You manipulated a kid, played a part in the destruction of Swallow Falls, and still don't care about losing at least some of your weight ga-"

"Hey, I've been trying to lose it!" Shelbourne's hands slammed on the table. "The doctors say that I'm doing fine. Do you have any idea how much I have to shut out the countless reminders that are given to me in the cafeteria? I can't even spend 5 minutes alone without the horrible word 'fatass' thrown at my face. Even the guards participate in the fun little game they've created!"

"That wouldn't be a problem," Ben growled, "if you hadn't been sent here. That wouldn't be a problem had you not fell for your greed and stopped the machine." The brother exchanged a swift glance at the nearby television, the news still blabbering on about a recent man's death. "You have no one to blame but yourself."

Sighing, Shelbourne held his face in his hands. His time here would be over soon - just had to hang in there.

"I'm tired of arguing. What date did they assign my release?"

"October 15th. Come tomorrow, you will have two weeks left." The bell of the visitation room tolled. Family members and lawyers stood from their tables, shuffling towards the exits. Multiple guards dressed in blue escorted the inmates back to where they were assigned, and Shelbourne could see one heading his way right now.

"Hey, look at me," Ben murmured, gaining his attention once more, gently clasping his hand. A sad look gently crossed his face, and Shelbourne stopped. He hadn't seen that expression in a long time, not since Ma passed... "Promise me you won't screw this up. Promise me - if I get you out - you won't come back to a place like this."

"I will..." He trailed off for a moment. But...but Lockwood... The inmate cleared his throat."I will do my best."

How painful it can be to lie through your teeth.

Sunlight poured onto the streets like coats of rain. It's been so long since he could explore beyond the prison gates, their towers of chains and thorns preventing any kind of attempted escape. Not to mention that Shelbourne didn't have the highest intellect out of all the other inmates. But to seize the day at his own will, to smell the streets again, to see families walking together hand in hand and to finally get another taste of real food was worth the time he served. Because of his unemployment, finally, he could build the hot dog stand he had always wanted to build. What better way to start than on the beach? The former mayor adored being near the water. During his toughest times, he always looked to the sea for amity. There was just something so special about it that he couldn't describe.

But that did not excuse what Flint Lockwood did. No, never - never in a thousand years. It did not excuse his banishment from being the town's mayor. It did not excuse him being sent to prison all over a stupid food machine. It did not excuse Flint casting him out into his shadow, while the town - mindless as they are - followed him with pride and applause, and still does today.

"No, he growled, "it doesn't." He looked at the signed release papers in his hand. They were grasped firmly, edges crinkling and crumpling to nothing. The sun reached its highest peak above in the afternoon sky, almost blinding the earth, and not a cloud in sight.

"On my mother's grave, I swear this: you will pay, Flint Lockwood. You will pay."