Donaldson leaned against the wall, keeping one eye on the inmates in the TV room and another on the hallway.
"Admiral!"
He turned and saw Mendoza saluting him. Behind her, Flaca and Maritza also raised their arms in mock salute, giggling as they passed.
Donaldson fought back the urge to reply – he didn't want the inmates knowing this Admiral business bothered him. Besides, the Judy King verdict was in: For once, the girls weren't fighting over which channel to watch. Taystee, Black Cindy, Poussey, Soso, Chang, Chapman and the Dongo crowded around the small television, while more inmates were shuffling in behind them.
"Shush ya'll, damn!" Taystee yelled, bringing a finger up to her lips to silence the new arrivals.
On the TV, the judge was returning to his bench, and an expectant hush fell over the courtroom, mirroring the silence in Litchfield's television room.
The camera panned over the packed courthouse, settling on the jury foreman: A weasely-looking man who coughed nervously and held a piece of paper up as he read the verdict.
"…we the jury find Mrs. King guilty on all charges…"
The inmates in the TV room erupted into joyous celebration – dancing, whooping and high-fiving.
"Settle down, ladies!" Donaldson called out.
After a minute, the noise began to die down as the inmates wondered aloud whether King, the celebrity homemaker, would serve her sentence in Litchfield. Donaldson found himself wondering whether King would indeed become one of his charges. Maybe she'd be assigned to the kitchen, making those "good things" she loved to bake and fry on her show. His stomach rumbled.
Without warning, Donaldson felt himself being yanked back. He made to reach for his radio, but a hand clamped over his mouth and he was pulled violently off his feet. Belatedly, Donaldson realized he was being pulled into the supply closet that bordered the TV room, and he felt the air squeezed from his lungs as he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor. The door slammed shut, and Donaldson found himself in near-darkness, gasping for air with his face inches from a filthy mop bucket.
A shadow moved, and his assailant grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. Donaldson's eyes widened as he recognized Mauren Kukudio.
"Don't. Make. A sound," Kukudio warned. "Got it?"
Donaldson nodded. She was surprisingly strong, and his lungs hadn't recovered from having the wind knocked out of them.
Kukudio pulled Donaldson forward and straddled him. It was a threatening gesture, not sexual – one knee dug into Donaldson's crotch, applying pressure as the inmate leaned in. Beneath tangles of reddish-brown hair, Kukudio's eyes glared at him.
"Suzanne is mine!" she breathed, "so don't pull any of your bullshit, do you understand me?"
Donaldson began to nod, but apparently not quick enough for her liking – she shifted, putting her weight on the knee that was pressed up against the CO's rodcock. Donaldson whimpered, but Kukudio slapped him hard.
"Say it! Say that you'll stay away from my Suzanne!"
"I…I'll stay away! I promise!"
But the pressure on his genitals didn't abate, and Kukudio's mentally unbalanced gaze remained fixated on him.
"She's not your Edwina," the unhinged inmate whispered in his ear. "She's MY Edwina!"
"Okay, okay," Donaldson coughed, "I get it! You can have her!"
"Good."
Maureen Kukudio stood up, dusting off her clothes with her hands. She turned toward the shelf and selected a pair of sinister-looking garden shears.
"Because if you don't," she said, flexing the blades, "you're going to be a rodcock short."
She straightened, then saluted him: "Admiral!"
And with that, she turned and bolted from the supply closet, leaving Donaldson alone on the floor.
"Sir?"
Rodcocker stirred, realizing that he had been daydreaming, once again visiting that odd parallel universe where he had taken human form.
He did not like this new parallel world. Everywhere he went, from the Galactic Core to the Chocolate Seas of Epsilon Eridani, everyone knew him as the Admiral, a man to be feared, respected, and serviced sexually. The galaxy's greatest worlds and civilizations paid tribute to him in blowjobs and top-shelf pussy – once the Time Humper appeared at the edge of a solar system, its inhabitants moved at once to prepare their finest females, having them bathed and perfumed for Admiral Rodcocker's inspection. Only the finest of them were permitted to service his rodcocks.
But there on Earth, that strange planet, they were insolent! Females dared threaten him? This could not stand.
Major Taintlicker was watching him expectantly, no doubt anticipating the Admiral's next order.
"Set a course for the Sol system," Admiral Rodcocker said, his voice booming across the bridge. "And ready the Penis Nukes. We are to battle."
Taintlicker raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"But sir, we've tracked Gilly to this system! This is our chance to wipe out that deviant interloper once and for all!"
Admiral Rodcocker stroked his chin.
"Gilly can wait," he said. "A new threat to Edwina has emerged, a human woman, and she will feel the Wrath of the Rodcocks!"
