08-12-2016, 10:39 PM
Yeah. So doing time at Butyrka was fucking like getting punched in the dick. Especially when you fucking got punched in the dick. And with the summer months coming again things weren't looking like they were going to get any better.
First he got the galloping shits. Then that needle he scored was full of dope that wasn't even dope. His reaction to the cell mate who ripped him off, especially after what he paid for it, went over so poorly the guards had to put him in solitary after that. And he didn't even want to get started on that Pi'zda caseworker assigned to his defense. She wouldn't do a fucking thing about getting him out on good behavior. Said he needed rehab. Fuck that.
Yeah, it was lonely, but so what. Food was probably half rat turds and half jailhouse chef splooge, too. The worst part was being stone cold sober. He tried making toilet wine but kept forgetting to shit somewhere else. There was no energy in life. The power was all gone and he couldn't touch it. Or even see it. That was the real loneliness. Life was so damn dull and drab it made him want to stick himself on the end of a bedsheet rope. If he had a little more courage he'd do it.
Even watching Mudak decorate a room with his brains wouldn't have been worth this shit. And he didn't even get to see that, cause of that stupid fuck fighting back against the pigs. He'd wished he had the foresight to keester some Blue Candy. If he'd just be able to touch the power he could probably remember how to make it. The pattern was there. One, two, shit in the loo...Yeah...
Midday came and went. He sat on the thin foam mattress laid across his concrete slab bed and watched the sunlight move across the floor of his three meter wide cell.
A guard came by. "Inmate 345432. Get up, you're coming with me."
Yuri perked up. "That's what your mom said to me last night."
He stepped back in expectation of a swing from the dude's nightstick, but the guard just gave a halfhearted sneer. Someone's got the case of the Fridays. He stuck out his hands so he could be shackled in order to make the trip. He was saving a wicked fart to let out when they did his leg irons, but the guard never put them on. Fucker was slacking.
The guard took him down to the first floor where there were some offices and shit. He put Yuri in a concrete room with no windows but a camera in the corner and a second door. There was a concrete table and bench. No metal furniture and nothing that can be moved. He waited.
The other door opened, and that fucking Pizda came out. She even had her hair back in one of those nanny buns and black framed glasses that screamed bitch. "I fired you already,
" he sneered at her. Get me a lawyer that knows her twat from her asshole. I'll show you how to tell the difference."
At least that fart wasn't going to go to total waste.
The bitch gave no hint she was bothered. "Yes, I know. And you represented yourself. That's why you got four years for a possession charge. The judge decided you were not competent to represent yourself and that it would be a miscarriage of justice to allow it to continue." She looked down at her notes. "I'm going to file to get you another trial. It seems some of your...behavior at your first trial was believed to have tainted the jury. But you were going through withdrawal symptoms. If the judge won't retry the case I'll ask for a plea down to a lesser charge. I can probably get you down to a two year sentence."
Two years? "Why the fuck two years? For trying to run a fucking bakery? I didn't do nothing wrong."
The bitch wrote on her notepad. "I understand. It's complicated because CCD law enforcement officers were killed during the raid, and it pissed them off that they came up with no drugs, only sugar."
Yuri smacked his fist down on the concrete table. Ow. "That wasn't my fucking fault! Tell them that. I didn't do that, that Mudak did all of that! I don't know what his fucking problem was!"
She took a step back. He knew she was a fraidy fuck. "Look, the reality is you're the only person that the state has who is still alive to point to to show that justice is being served, since they already killed Vladimir in the raid. There are family members who wanted you strung up as well. They were out for blood. Look, I'll keep working on it. Is there anyone you want me to send a message to on the outside?"
Yuri stood up and made the fig with both hands. "Yeah. Tell Date a Russian Inmate this is what I think of their girls. Put a personal in the local rag for me instead. Partying SWM nonsmoker likes to spend time in contemplation and DTF. And don't fuck my case up or I'll fire you again."
Pizda was on her way out already but fuck her. The guard came in. "All right, I'm taking you home," he said." Don't get behind me."
"That's not what your sister told me last night."
That one earned him a stiff jab in the gut. Guess it wasn't quite Friday yet. As Yuri struggled to suck his breath back in he couldn't help but grin. You got your kicks out of what you could when you were doing time.
Edited by Yuri Obrechennyy, Aug 12 2016, 10:43 PM.
First he got the galloping shits. Then that needle he scored was full of dope that wasn't even dope. His reaction to the cell mate who ripped him off, especially after what he paid for it, went over so poorly the guards had to put him in solitary after that. And he didn't even want to get started on that Pi'zda caseworker assigned to his defense. She wouldn't do a fucking thing about getting him out on good behavior. Said he needed rehab. Fuck that.
Yeah, it was lonely, but so what. Food was probably half rat turds and half jailhouse chef splooge, too. The worst part was being stone cold sober. He tried making toilet wine but kept forgetting to shit somewhere else. There was no energy in life. The power was all gone and he couldn't touch it. Or even see it. That was the real loneliness. Life was so damn dull and drab it made him want to stick himself on the end of a bedsheet rope. If he had a little more courage he'd do it.
Even watching Mudak decorate a room with his brains wouldn't have been worth this shit. And he didn't even get to see that, cause of that stupid fuck fighting back against the pigs. He'd wished he had the foresight to keester some Blue Candy. If he'd just be able to touch the power he could probably remember how to make it. The pattern was there. One, two, shit in the loo...Yeah...
Midday came and went. He sat on the thin foam mattress laid across his concrete slab bed and watched the sunlight move across the floor of his three meter wide cell.
A guard came by. "Inmate 345432. Get up, you're coming with me."
Yuri perked up. "That's what your mom said to me last night."
He stepped back in expectation of a swing from the dude's nightstick, but the guard just gave a halfhearted sneer. Someone's got the case of the Fridays. He stuck out his hands so he could be shackled in order to make the trip. He was saving a wicked fart to let out when they did his leg irons, but the guard never put them on. Fucker was slacking.
The guard took him down to the first floor where there were some offices and shit. He put Yuri in a concrete room with no windows but a camera in the corner and a second door. There was a concrete table and bench. No metal furniture and nothing that can be moved. He waited.
The other door opened, and that fucking Pizda came out. She even had her hair back in one of those nanny buns and black framed glasses that screamed bitch. "I fired you already,
" he sneered at her. Get me a lawyer that knows her twat from her asshole. I'll show you how to tell the difference."
At least that fart wasn't going to go to total waste.
The bitch gave no hint she was bothered. "Yes, I know. And you represented yourself. That's why you got four years for a possession charge. The judge decided you were not competent to represent yourself and that it would be a miscarriage of justice to allow it to continue." She looked down at her notes. "I'm going to file to get you another trial. It seems some of your...behavior at your first trial was believed to have tainted the jury. But you were going through withdrawal symptoms. If the judge won't retry the case I'll ask for a plea down to a lesser charge. I can probably get you down to a two year sentence."
Two years? "Why the fuck two years? For trying to run a fucking bakery? I didn't do nothing wrong."
The bitch wrote on her notepad. "I understand. It's complicated because CCD law enforcement officers were killed during the raid, and it pissed them off that they came up with no drugs, only sugar."
Yuri smacked his fist down on the concrete table. Ow. "That wasn't my fucking fault! Tell them that. I didn't do that, that Mudak did all of that! I don't know what his fucking problem was!"
She took a step back. He knew she was a fraidy fuck. "Look, the reality is you're the only person that the state has who is still alive to point to to show that justice is being served, since they already killed Vladimir in the raid. There are family members who wanted you strung up as well. They were out for blood. Look, I'll keep working on it. Is there anyone you want me to send a message to on the outside?"
Yuri stood up and made the fig with both hands. "Yeah. Tell Date a Russian Inmate this is what I think of their girls. Put a personal in the local rag for me instead. Partying SWM nonsmoker likes to spend time in contemplation and DTF. And don't fuck my case up or I'll fire you again."
Pizda was on her way out already but fuck her. The guard came in. "All right, I'm taking you home," he said." Don't get behind me."
"That's not what your sister told me last night."
That one earned him a stiff jab in the gut. Guess it wasn't quite Friday yet. As Yuri struggled to suck his breath back in he couldn't help but grin. You got your kicks out of what you could when you were doing time.
Edited by Yuri Obrechennyy, Aug 12 2016, 10:43 PM.