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Just Another Night at the R.T.C. before/after The trouble started when Chris didn't want to go to bed. A small child mind in a thug man child's body. He went into his drop box, and grabbed his celebrated cum rag, put one end in his mouth, and tore a strip off with his one unbroken hand. I got the kids out of bed and turned on the lights. He'd been unpredictable and violent the entire week. I asked Chris if we were going to have a nice quiet night tonight, y'know a good quiet night, everybody in bed, easiest part of the day, score points just for sleepin'. He looked at me with big vacant brown eyes, shaved, raisin-like wrinkly head, wrinkly from fetal alcohol poisoning, and said with a crazed look in his eye. "Nawh." I swear I heard the theme music to 'the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.' playing somewhere. Showdown time. "Circle him up." my costaff called. And the kids immediately all ran and stood crowded around him, six inches away. Chris immediately sucker punched the kid next to him, "HAH! YOU DIDN'T EXPECT THAT, DIDJA'?!" he said, and the rest of the group struggled to restrain him, he standing up under their weight, roaring like a dumb beast red of face and moving with the strength of the mentally deranged. Finally they got him down on the floor, and I raked him over the coals, he sobbed, the kid holding his head sobbed, "YOU'RE NOT HELPING THIS MAN." he said Oh, but I'm trying. My co-staff mocked up the incident reports something everyone learns early on in the job, and I got the kids back together and put them to bed. I was late for the bar. Chris was good the rest of the week. A friend told me he saw Chris out on petunia patrol, watering the flowers along with the rest of the low risk convicts. A career system rat, he's a county problem now.
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