Pork
It's okay, Freddie Benson told himself as he sat on the hard, plastic seat inside the prison visiting area. It's just a prison…full of criminals…no big deal. It's perfectly safe here. Nothing's gonna happen to me, just don't-
"There he is," a guard said suddenly, walking into the visiting area with a large man in a navy prison jumpsuit. "That's your visitor."
"That guy?" the prisoner moaned, spotting Freddie. "You took me away from my soap opera for him?"
"Twenty minutes," the guard said indifferently, leading the prisoner over to Freddie. "That's all you got, so no funny business, Carmine."
"Er…hello, sir," Freddie said as Sam's uncle sat down across from him, glaring at him so intently that Freddie was sure he was going to burst into flames any second.
"What do you want?" Carmine asked sharply. "Did you bring Sammy with you?"
"No…just me today," Freddie said, offering a weak smile.
Uncle Carmine did not look amused.
"Um," Freddie said, trying to ignore the awkward tension between the two of them. "I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here-"
"Yeah, which is why I asked you, what do you want?"
"I-I need to ask you something," Freddie squeaked as Carmine cracked his knuckles.
"Oh…you want to ask me something," Carmine sneered, leaning back in his chair. "You, the kid who got my pork rights revoked-"
"That-that was seven years ago…sir," Freddie pointed out nervously.
"And that's how long its been since I've had any pork," Carmine said, narrowing his eyes.
"Oh, well…I-I'm sure that's been very difficult," Freddie said. "But hey! I-I managed to smuggle this in for you!" He pulled a sandwich out of his jacket pocket. "A ham sandwich."
"Ham?" Carmine repeated, grabbing the sandwich. "Oh sweet ham come to daddy!" He took a large bite of the sandwich, but nearly gagged a second later.
"Are you okay?" Freddie asked, jumping up.
"Is this," Carmine said, his voice scarily soft. "Low sodium ham?"
"Er…it-it's possible," Freddie stuttered. "I-I did have it made at a health conscious deli, so-"
"You," Carmine said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Are an absolute disgrace to meat everywhere. I hope you don't feed my Sammy that imposter ham."
"No sir, never," Freddie said quickly. "And um…speaking of Sam…she-she's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Why?" Carmine demanded. "Is she okay? Because I don't care how many prison guards there are around us, if you hurt my little Sammy, I'll-"
"No, I-I would never hurt her," Freddie said. "I love her."
"And yet you feed her uncle garbage," Carmine said, shaking his head.
"Um, anyway," Freddie said, trying to rack his brain to see how he thought having a sandwich made for a relative of Sam's at a healthy deli seemed like a good idea. "I-I know you're very close to Sam. She really loves you a lot, and she looks up to you like a father. She talks about you a lot…just the other night she was telling me about how when she was really little you would take her out to this ice cream place when you could tell that she really wanted to just get away from home for a little bit. And she always tells me about all the time you built her a tree house in her backyard with wood you 'borrowed' from a builder working a few houses down from her."
"Ah yes, good times," Carmine nodded, smiling reminiscently. "Sammy was always the daughter I never had."
"That's sweet," Freddie smiled.
"You calling me a daffodil, Benson?" Carmine snapped.
"No! I'm not!" Freddie exclaimed. "I-I just…I want to ask for your permission to ask Sam to marry me!"
Uncle Carmine looked taken aback. "You want to marry her?"
"More than anything, yes," Freddie gulped. "She means the world to me, and the only thing that could make me happier than having her as my girlfriend would be having her as my wife. And like I said…I know you're the closest father figure she has."
Carmine was silent for a few moments as he stared hard at Freddie. Freddie was suddenly very thankful he had remembered to use the restroom before coming in here, because he was sure that this was more stress than his bladder would've been able to handle.
"You really love my Sammy?" Uncle Carmine finally asked.
"Yes," Freddie nodded. "I really do."
"And you realize," Carmine said. "That by marrying her, you are giving me your word that you will always be there for her? That you will support her, provide for her, protect her, and treasure her?"
"I'm looking forward to doing all of that and more," Freddie said. "Nothing would make me happier."
Carmine sighed. "Did you know when Sammy comes to visit me…you're the first thing she tells me about?"
"No, I didn't."
"And her face just lights up when she talks about you," Carmine continued. "Never have I seen her as happy as she is when she's with you, or when she's talking about you."
"I'm happiest when I'm around her too," Freddie said.
Carmine pursed his lips. "Look around here, Benson…Do you see all these prisoners?"
"Um..." Freddie said, looking at a particularly large man with a tattoo of a skull on his oversized bicep. "Yes."
"Well, if you ever hurt my Sammy….you'll be wishing you were trapped in a room full of them once I get my hands on you," he said firmly. "Am I clear?"
"Crystal," Freddie said meekly.
"Good," Carmine nodded. "Then…you have my blessing."
"I do?"
"Yeah you do!" Carmine said, his menacing scowl suddenly turning into a wide smile as he stood up, holding a hand out to Freddie. "Welcome to the family!"
He pulled Freddie into a bone-crushing hug that Freddie was sure left at least three of his ribs broken.
"Thank you!" he managed to say, massaging his sides once the man let go.
"Alright, Carmine," one of the guards said, approaching the table. "Time's up. Back in the hole."
"Okay, okay, keep your skimpies on!" Carmine snapped. He looked over his shoulder as the guard led him out.
"Take care of her," he managed to say before he was escorted out.
"I will! Don't worry!" Freddie assured him. He turned and quickly left the visiting area.
"Okay, heart," he said once safely outside, breathing a sigh of relief. "You can resume beating now."
