Post by Mack "The Knife" McKane on Sept 3, 2020 19:59:48 GMT -5
Little one gotta heed my warnin’...
...Devil is Kind.
He come in the early mornin’...
...Devil is Fine.
...Devil is Kind.
He come in the early mornin’...
...Devil is Fine.
“OPEN BLOCK C”
*NNNNGGGGGGclick*
(We see the lowered, parted mohawk side cut head of a betrayed man lowered to the ground as he shuffles forward, wrists and ankles bound in cuffs. They lead him through the trench of cells where the inmates are whooping and cat calling him...he pays them no mind. They finally reach his cell where he turns around and they uncuff him as he massages his wrists as the loud buzzing of the door locking behind the guards rings. He sits on his one inch thick plastic cot. He sits with his head still lowered. He slowly reaches over and takes the flimsy hand towel and the single roll of 1-ply toilet paper and begins to fashion himself a makeshift pillow. Once he’s done...he lays with his back turned to the door as the inmates in the pod are still calling to him...telling him he’s pretty, asking him what he did, trying to con him for commissary...he shuts them out and tries to rest.)
Little one better find your way now…
...Devil is Fine.
Little one better find your way out…
...Devil is Kind.
(We see breakfast...the next morning. As the new man in the pod, he decides not to ruffle any feathers and willingly gets his tray last. The last tray in jail is always basically...what’s left. And what’s left is usually not even fit for a pig. But this was apparently life now. His best friend’s father had gone off the rails before but now...he was just being an ass. It’s fine though...he’s used to betrayal. As he gathers his tray...he looks around for a spot...and all he sees is the magnifying glass table. The one table they leave empty that they don’t tell new inmates about so they sit their on their own and get sized up. This wasn’t civilization...this was the Serengeti...and he was a fresh baby antelope. But he was unafraid...undeterred...in fact a part of him wants a conflict. Just a glimmering chance to vent out some of this...unyielding rage. So he proudly walks over and takes a seat at the table and suddenly notes all the eyes on him. Hushed whispers and giggles just like a gaggle of prepubescent schoolgirls. He’s not paying them any mind...until one approaches. He’s a bigger man...middle aged...covered in prison tattoos you can see because he’s not wearing a shirt and the “KILLER” tattoo he has just above his naval has been stretched beyond all reason from his beer gut. He’s bald...but not by choice. He has a Homer Simpson thing going and a butcher’s mustache. And he approaches...with a grin.)
Inmate: Well now...where’d they dig YOU up, tough guy?
(It’s a very important understood rule...you keep your head low and keep to yourself...don’t start a scuffle. But if you’re pushed you DO NOT back down. Opting to try and keep his transparency...he continues eating...as the bog of body odor washes over him with the inmate sitting on the table right by his tray.)
Inmate: Got such a purty little mouth, don’t it know how to talk? Name’s Keates...what’chu in for?
(...he doesn’t...acknowledge.)
Keates: Listen, boy. I’m tryin’ to have a friendly conversation! And you’re just hurtin’ my feelin’s now! So I tell you what...to make it up to me? I’m just gonna take yer cake.
*There is nothing but a low snarl in warning*
Keates: OOOH HOO HOO! He CAN talk! And what a feisty little bitch he is! Well I see the scars on ya, boy. Tells me? I can’t teach you nothin’ you ain’t heard about fifty times from the looks of it! So we’ll just have that cake no-
(Keates...has touched his cake...and before anybody knows what’s happening, he is contorting Keates’ fingers completely out of socket as he stands up in full control as Keates falls to the ground on his knees at his mercy. And suddenly…
...he raises his head…
...and the street rat, the underdog, the bloodletter, the FURIOUS Mack McKane came to life. A few of Keates’ friends look like they’re about to interject but with each step, Mack wrenches the fingers one by one as we hear sickening pops with each finger being dislocated.)
Mack McKane: ...allow me...to introduce myself...
(Mack suddenly yanks Keates’ arm through two steel bars and as hard and as vicious as he can yakuza kicks it the opposite way of how it is supposed to bend as we hear a nauseating, blood-curdling, ungodly SNAP and CRACK and the yowling pain of a man from the very depths of his burdened childhood soul as he collapses to the ground...arm flailing around like Jell-O. Mack calmly sneers at everyone and walks towards the guard’s door and gets down on the floor with his hands behind his back as the guards rush in and cuff him.)
Guard: ...guess we’ll just put this one on your tab.
(They yank Mack up and lead him to solitary segregation as he cracks his neck and lays down on the steel grate...they don’t give you anything but toilet paper, a toothbrush, a small toothpaste, and a liquid body wash that’s supposed to cover your body and your hair. He sits with his back to the wall staring at the small opening before laying his head back and closing his eyes.)
Little one better run for your life…
...Devil is FIne.
Little one where you goin’ with that knife?
...Devil is Kind.
...Devil is FIne.
Little one where you goin’ with that knife?
...Devil is Kind.
(It seems impossible to track time in a room with no windows, clocks, or any discernible sign of the bustling world outside. It feels like he’s been meditating for hours...of course, HIS brand of meditation is festering and broiling in the unforgotten rage he now holds threefold in his putrid, black heart. Jacobs got too close to Mattie...he was damn proud of her for standing up for herself...to fight her own nightmare. But still...he was there. His throat was in his direct line of vision...it was all he wanted, all he NEEDED, ALL HE LUSTED AFTER!!! The blood of the petulant adorning his battle-tested hands...he could FEEL IT! And as things were according to PLAN…)
...LEVI FUCKING RUSSOW...SPOILED...EVERYTHING!!!!!
*Clang*
Guard: MCKANE! Bed and Baggage! SOMEHOW you maid bail.
(Mack’s eyes fly open and he looks immensely confused but he’s not one to question as he gathers his things and prepares to go be processed. The guard muses to him…)
Guard: I’ve NEVER seen that before...you had almost a million dollar bond, an’ someone just...PAID it! Who the Hell are you friends with, kid?
(Mack didn’t know...he didn’t care...all he knew, was he would soon breathe fresh air and the hunt would be on again. As Mack is finished processing...they lead him to the door...and kick him out of the police station. There was no one there to pick him up...whoever paid his bail definitely didn’t want him to know it was them. But it was fine...he was free...he was loose…)
...and he was unabashedly...PISSED.
(Mack takes a deep breath and starts walking off into the night.)
NOBODY GON’ SHOW YOU THE WAY NOW…
...NOBODY GON’ HOLD YOUR HAND NOW!
NOBODY GON’ LEAD YOU AWAY NOW…
THE DEVIL IS FINE!
THE DEVIL IS FINE!
...THE DEVIL IS FINE!
[END]