So, despite my remarks about Maurice and I not being friends, I had to help him out. His blood was pooling and getting close to my shoes. I tore off some sheepskin and tied it around his wrist. Maurice didn't make a sound except for one big one that sounded like a chair squeaking across tile while I was tying his hand. I looked around the lobby for further aid. Wormy guy had ignored Maurice's one creak of pain and scampered up a vent, may as well let him, what am I gonna do? Tell him off for being a bad boy? He wants to live in a vent in a jail, I doubt any sort of word will make him not do what he just did.

There was a Self-Aid on the far side of the visitor's room entrance. I walked Maurice over to it, though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. What I hadn't seen was there was a small brass padlock on the Self-Aid case. I guess to keep prisoners safe, so they can't use what's inside as a weapon? I went to grab one of the heavier chairs to smash the lock, but by the time I had the thing picked up and I had turned around, Maurice had gripped the lock with his other hand and gnashed it in his grip, flinging it to the side, into the visitors room. It was a mighty toss. Everything was under control by that point. Maurice had stopped bleeding using the Self-Aid and the wound had been hermetically sealed. I could still hear wormy guy rattling in the vents, very distant, like he was a few rooms over. Still quite loud.

"Wow" said Maurice, unimpressed, "Now my hands gone".

I ignored him for the sake of reason and continued my search around the lobby. There were absolutely no staff, no workers, didn't even seem like there were any prisoners. Was this place abandoned? Was this a trick-r-trap? I mean, the lights were still on, and the front desk processor was still whirring. It's warm, like it's been running for hours. Very strange. VARY strange. dick dicky shit

I peeked into the visitors lounge. All the lights on, no one home. I jumped over the front desk to take a look around. I had to jump because the guards entrance was locked and I didn't have no key. It was a messy place back there. Scraps of paper with little notes on littered the workspace and floor, the processor had run out of space and had turned grey, and the stationary was scattered throughout its designated area rather than confined to the stationary corner as it should be. This was troublesome. I searched the notes for clues... actually fuck that, I didn't search the notes for clues, I spit behind the paper rack, mlaaaaah, fuck the government. I left the front desk area from the security door, spotting a massive ring of keys, thick with janglers.

"Maurice, check out this hoop'a'janglers", I jangled toward Maurice. He was taking a seat, posed very similarly to DaVincis "The Thinker", except he was a tall mexican with one hand.

He looked toward me. "Keeeys" he exhaled.

"Yeah, keeeee", I exhaled back. "Lets keep looking around".

The only direction we hadn't really gone yet was through a dusty looking hall on the farscape of the room. It takes a sharp left, so you can't see the end of it from the lobby. We started down it peering at the awards hung on the walls. "Best Suited for Comfort", "Most Well Equipt", "Best Reign". These awards were from a highschool. There were highschool awards in the bendy hall. They sucked, they were all placks. No bowlers, no brass squibbers. One plack looked like a tit. I gestured at Maurice. He had noticed and also gestured at a plack opposite that looked like a big nose.

"Very cool" said I, my comment echoing slightly.

The hall came to an abrupt stop after a large left turn and a small right hook. What looked like two shitty gym doors stood, frowning at us, like we had done something bad.

Maurice kinda did a turn jump and did a weird butt bounce off the doors opening bar. It budged, but not by much. "Butt doesn't work, Put it in the keyhole"

"Put it in the keyhole, 123, I said a put it in the keyhole, 123" I sung. Maurice also sung after he got the jist of it. Maurice was pretty jolly for a big tall idiot seeming guy. He got over his hand pretty quickly. I think he had a grudge. Maurice seems like a big idiot. His face doesn't shift much. Hes one of those guys that if you didn't hear him talk, you'd assume he was just braindead, or just a day laborer. He eloqutes nicely, like his parents made him practice elocution. Maybe english isn't his first language. I wonder if Maurice has a woman outside this place. He's far too deliberate to be a gay homo. All his movements make sense. If there is something over there that he wants to grab, his hand does point A to point B. No flair, no fanfare, no weak wrist shit. I wonder if his woman is short. Maurice is pretty tall.

I realize at this point you may be wondering "Isn't this a retelling of a memory because you just escaped prison? Why did he shift perspective?" To that I say, groan you! Get outta my head, i'm telling myself this story and I tell it the way I want. If you wanna listen to my fable tale, fess up and shut up. I'm a good man, i'm a grown man. I had kids once, now you're coming in and talling me a story about how you lost your dolly? Getthefuckouttahere.

I was thinking all of this as I was reaching for the hoop'a'janglies. Maurice was freestyling beatpoxing on my little diddy as I was scoping through the ring to find the right key. One looked particularly "shitty gym door"y so I tried it. It made a heavy "click", like something within the wall was built to receive this key this way. A very receptive, ominous sound. Maurice looked like he was ready to bolt through the door, Why the fuck does he act like a dog. He didn't act like a dog before. Is this a prank?

I gave the door a push and sucked the keys back to my person. Maurice did a little sideways push by and got through to the other side before me. I took half a step inside and the door closed behind me. 2 things hit me at once. For one, this was the heart of the prison. It was like a big basketball court with jail cells around the edge. Well lit, regulatory markings on the floor. No hoops though, only a nice waxed court.

The second thing that hit me was a loud voice beside me shouting "FREEZE" and the click of a hammer.