A little workout
I stare out of the window of the small ship I'm stuck in with one thought going through my mind. I'm going to jail again. I've lived for little over two years and I'm on my way to prison for the third time and it's for a completely unmerited reason. Okay so I did nick a bit of money from some rich, stuck-up piece of garbage but I had to, I was starving. Of course I got arrested but I don't see what business it was of the authorities. I told them I only took the money because I needed food and that I would pay it back but they didn't care one bit. Why the hell can't those idiots arrest people who are real menaces to society instead of some poor youth who's so hungry it's painful?
I'm jolted out of my thoughts as the ship docks with a large, two levelled, hexagon shaped prison station orbiting some planet or other that I don't care to know the name of. A metal door at the front of the ship opens and a somewhat ugly guardsman comes to escort myself and the few other prisoners on the ship to the station's main entrance where we'll be asked a few pointless questions and be given a cell number.
It doesn't take long to reach our destination and I'm lucky enough to be first in the small line of prisoners which means I don't have to listen to everyone else blabber.
"Name?" the bold-headed prison attendant asks as he looks down at me with disdain.
"Rocket," I answer plainly.
"What sort of a name is that?" the attendant sneers.
"Yeah I know, strange name," I reply, "but at least it's not something trashy like... Kotar for instance."
The attendant's eyes flicker over to his identity badge before returning angrily to me.
Age?" he growls.
"About two and a bit years, can't say the exact date."
"What about species?"
This next question has me stumped for a bit on how to answer but I decide to just be honest.
"I don't have a species. I'm the only one in the galaxy who's like me."
"Awww that's too bad kid, what a shame," Kotar says mockingly. "Your cell number is X29X8, now go into the next room and get your prison clothes because you'll be staying here for a while. Oh and one more thing Mr. One of a kind, don't get lonely."
I reply with a vulgar insult to his face before following a guard into the next room where I am stripped, sprayed down with water, given a disgustingly plain grey top and pants and finally taken to my cell.
The cell is simple, a plain bed without sheets, a dodgy looking shelf and a bucket so I can relieve myself.
I flop down on the bed grinning and say out loud to myself, "Well this will sure beat sleeping in a gutter."
I'm woken to the sound of my cell door unlocking. I raise head to see a guard standing in the doorway gun in hand.
"Get up," the man orders. "It's meal time. You get fifteen minutes to eat, no more, no less. Move it."
I mutter something under my breath, pull my shirt on and head out of my cell.
I have no idea which way to go but I soon figure out that to take a left then a right, another two lefts then a right again. I figure this out because if I go the wrong way I'm shoved in the back by the guard.
As I enter the mess-hall I take a look around. The room is small, ugly, has only two tables side-by-side and has a counter were you go to get your food. I walk over to the counter, grab a tray and hold it out to the woman who severs me a tray-full of green slop. It looks less then appetizing but once you've eaten half rotten food from a trashcan prison food isn't that bad.
I take my food over to one of the tables and throw it above my head and onto the table before scrabbling up a chair. To my irritation and humiliation I have to eat standing on my chair otherwise I can't reach the table or tray. I don't have a spoon or anything so I just scoop it up with my paw. After the third bite I become aware that a scaly alien is watching me and grinning to himself. I try to ignore him and continue my meal but after another two mouthfuls of slop I push my tray away from me and glare over at him.
"What you looking at?" I demand angrily.
"Nothing," he replies and turns away, sniggering to himself.
"Oh really," I growl, "because staring at me while I'm eating is not looking at nothing so why the hell were you looking at me?"
"Figure it out stupid," the other growls, not even bothering to look at me.
"Let me guess," I snap. "You were looking at a freak. At this little weirdo who's at the table. Well you aren't much of a looker yourself and..."
"You got it all wrong kid," the scaly laughs. "I wasn't looking at you so much as your muscles or haha, lack of them."
"What the hell does that mean?" I snap, furious at what this trash is implying.
"I mean you're scrawny and underdeveloped. Weak guys like you don't last long in places like this. Do yourself a favour and build yourself up a bit. After this the filth howls with laughter. Everyone else near us decides now is a good time to leave the table.
"Shut your face you stinking slime-ball," I roar at him them launch myself across the table.
"So you think I'm weak." I snarl as I stand inches away from him. "You think I won't make it in here? That I can't take care of myself? Well you listen and listen good because..."
I don't get any further as a guard who must have heard me shouting comes over and slams his fist down between us.
"What the devil is going on?" he demands, wanting an answer from both of us.
"What's going on is that this...thing is mouthing off at me like a maniac." Lizard-face replies.
"That's because he insulted me," I growl, struggling to stay calm. "He called me scrawny and said I can't take care of myself. He's wrong I..."
"Look buster," the guard says, cutting me off, "I don't care what he called you so zip it."
Turning on the scaly he snaps, "I don't need any trouble from you Javal so stop picking on the newbie. I will not stand for any fighting on my watch."
"As for you," he adds, turning on me, "You are scrawny. Get over it.!"
I'm about to bite back at him when I hear the beeping sound indicating that meal time is over.
"Right," the guard yells at the top of his lungs, "everyone back to their cells, now!"
As I'm escorted back to my cell I turn and lock eyes with Javal, letting him know that he's made an enemy today.
Back in my cell I strip off my top and look down at myself. I expect to see a well built body but instead I'm greeted with a scrawny little chest and an equally unimpressive belly. The lizard guy had been right, I do look weak. I yell angrily and kick my shirt across the length of the cell. I'm so angry I can hardly think. I feel so stupid right now. Mouthing off to that lizard about how wrong he was to think I wasn't strong and now I see he was right. That's when I make a vow to myself. Somehow I'm going to get strong and well built. Somehow I'm going to get myself a real good-looking gut.
...
"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." I get to my feet after I reach the hundredth press-up. I'm hot and sweaty but feel god for having finished my morning exercise ten minutes before I usually start them. I need a shower but I'm also feeling really hungry so I decide to hold the shower off until after I've had breakfast.
As I enter the Milano's kitchen I see Peter eating some toast while Drax and Gamora sip at mugs of tea or coffee or something.
"Morning," I grunt at them.
Gamora looks up then wrinkles her nose and says, "What is that smell?"
"That Gamora," I tell her is the smell of a sweaty little body that's just done a serious work-out."
To emphasize this I lift an arm and take a big sniff. Gamora doesn't say anything and just stands there looking like she's going to be sick.
"Rocket what's with you and all this working-out anyway?" Peter asks. "I mean it's not like you have to get into shape for a fight. All you ever use in a fight is your fists so why bother?"
"Peter does this look scrawny to you?" I ask and lift my top up to just above my chest.
"Err...no, not at all. I mean it look good for what it is." Peter answers a little surprised by my actions.
"Someone once told me it was underdeveloped and that I needed to build myself up a bit," I tell him, letting my top fall back into place. "I first I was just mad at him," I go on. "After a while I thought I'd prove him wrong. Good idea don't you think?"
"Yeah," Pater replies and goes back to his toast.
Here it is the next chapter. Please R&R.
P.S For any of you who are wondering about what I did with Rocket's age there will be a another's note about it.