Punchwood awoke on a bed in the infirmary. The prison medic was in the next room over mumbling to himself. "I wonder if I could take out a man's esophagus and replace it with PVC pipe?" Punchwood shook out of his head the thoughts that came to mind upon hearing those words. He went out into the hallway to join general population.
After coming down the hall to get his bearings of the prison, a hard fist hit his face and sent him to the ground. Standing over him was a young man on the shorter side. Piercing blue eyes peered out from a gray flat cap. "Top o' da mornin' to ya laddy," the man shouted.
"Hey, what did I do to deserve that?" Punchwood groaned as he stood up. The name tag on the man's uniform said 'Jack'.
"Nothin'" Jack replied, giving him another fist to the jaw. "I just don' like ya, ya bastard!" There were no guards around to help him. His only choice was to run. He darted down the hallway toward the infirmary and took a hard right. Either Jack had lost him or did not care to chase after him.
When the buzzer sounded for lunch, Punchwood carefully made his way to the cafeteria. Jack and his crew were already sitting at their table, munching on food. Punchwood grabbed a tray. They had two choices for lunch, a corn dog or a krabby patty. Youngbuck, another inmate with golden locks and an effeminate complexion, made them as his job in prison. He could hear the other inmates talking about the food behind him. Some of them complained about having to force it down, others wanted seconds and three desserts. Punchwood grabbed a corn dog and sat at the other table. A decently built inmate named Mark introduced himself. "Hey new guy. Did Jack get you?"
Punchwood snickered. "Yeah, I'll get him back."
"Be careful." said Mark in between bites of his krabby patty. "Jack's super strong. Not very smart though. He spends his free time at the gym. I spend mine at the library, browsing the internet. You can learn how to craft makeshift tools. The prison filter doesn't catch it. We get time at the gym every day so that's when I work out. You have to be balanced to survive in here."
"Thanks for the info."
"No prob-" An inmate with black hair and a goatee pulled Mark onto the floor, knocking off his glasses. Mark easily got the upper hand and began to pummel him. Two guards quickly broke them up, beating them senseless. The buzzer sounded and everyone filed out of the cafeteria except Mark and the aggressive inmate. Punchwood waited for all of the guards to leave before checking the inmate's pockets. His name tag read Billygoat and in his pockets were talcum powder and soap. Punchwood simply removed Billygoat's clothes and put them on the ground next to him as a prank. He did the same to Mark before heading to the closet to get a mop.
The janitor job was the lowest of the low. It was the hardest to do and paid peanuts. Punchwood had trouble finding any spills to clean up. Other inmates were cooking meals, delivering mail, making clothes, and stamping license plates. Punchwood saw Jack delivering the mail. He had access to everyone's desks inside their cells and the guards were not yelling at him. That was the job Punchwood knew he had to have. Another sounds of the buzzer and it was time to hit the gym. On his way there, he spotted Warden Paolo Seraos III walking the halls. He stood upright with his hands behind his back and strutted like a rooster in his coop of hens. Punchwood caught up to him and walked beside him. "Hey Paolo, you remember me? Punchwood? Yeah you know me. We're pals! Anyway, you know I didn't do this, right? It was the spy chickens." The warden ignored him and strolled out the prison door where Punchwood could not go. A guard yelled at him to get to the gym.