“May I?” a suddenly emboldened judge inquires gesturing with his hand.
“She, as well as every other inmate here, are presented for inspection and amusement under the auspices of the government,” Peggy pleasantly but patiently explains. “They are at your disposal.”
What Peggy conveniently omits is that the Penance Corporation of America bills the government extra for every moment of inmate care outside of the cell block. As far as she is concerned, we could boil every inmate in oil and eat them with the bill of fare serving to enhance the profits of the unique publicly traded corporation.
The judge steps forth, breaking from our little group which has been congregating at the entrance and gaping like impressionable tourists at a museum. He stands proximate to the helpless form. I can ima
