Thursday, 10 March 2011

No bigger

here are a few ways to waste ones days away in this fucking
dickhead filled shithole..
 Scratching your balls and jerking your dick to american gossip
magazines DOES eventually grow tiresome..when that happens,
play some chess!

 I used to play chess in primary school, but i stopped abruptly
when i got my snes/super nintendo..

 Because of this,
i am more than a little rusty. It is a game of patience, class, sophistication
and planning ahead..
 Sadly, due to years of rinsing games like Gears of War, religously,
i am used to playing games in a rather different style..

..Running into a warzone, spraying all my firepower as fast as possible in a suicidally
epic, apocaliptic run for glory, is NOT how you with at chess.
 Trust me on this one. I've tried. Many, many times, to no avail.
For now, i just sit back and watch more experienced players..which is always entertaining..

 It's late in the evening, about ten minutes until lockdown, and i'm sitting in my cell with
my cellie, and one of his partners comes bounding into the cell, like a very happy dog..

This dude, i'm really cool with..which is definitely a good thing..

 The 'man' in question looks like a cross between one of the grimiest
orks from Lord of the Rings, and The Thing from Fantastic four..
 He has been shot,
stabbed, electricuted, hit by a car, poisoned, bitten by dogs, thrown
out of a 3rd floor window, hit in the head with a baseball bat,
and legend has it he was thrown out of a plane..
 This guy looks like he has been through many wars,
and DIDN'T live to tell the tale..
 Looking at him, he just looks caked in layers of crime..

"The n****rs straight twisted!"

 He also has a gambling problem.
I have been given strict instructions to, no matter what he says,
never let him in the cell or give him anything without my cellie being
 He 'borrows' things, then gambles/loses them, and you end up chasing
him forever to get them back..
 On the days he manages to get in the cell, he instantly starts scanning
all the shelves, terminator style, pricing up our belongings..trying to figure
out what will get him the most poker chips..until i shoo him out the room
like a stray dog..

 So what has he come to the cell for?
To play chess of course :D
 For five tunas..
Which to be frank is a ridiculous request ten minutes from lockdown, but my cellie is bored,
so the challenge commences!
 I'm on my bed overlooking the battleground,
the challenger sitting below me..the back of his head resembles one of them pug dogs..

Everytime he makes a move, he either says
"Get jiggy widAT n****r!"
or obsessively repeats
"Hit that bitch widda Wane train!"
All the while, laughing extremely loudly, just like pee wee herman..

 My cellie holds up a pawn..
"Look, you got a pawn brain, no bigger than this pawn..silly n****r"

..He talks too soon! His punishment?
N takes his queen!

 The pressure is mounting, as N seems like he has my dude lock stock..
"Check n****r, Check n****r, watcha gonna do about that n****r!"
 I ain't even involved in the game, but the pressure is getting critical..
So much so, i relieve some in the form of a load fart..

 Both players spend the next few minutes accusing each other of licking off the stray shot,
that echoed off into the cell like a shotgun blast in an empty warehouse..

"Why would i be farting?

No one accuses me,
so i just keep quiet..

N's lead seems to be fading, my dude has made some serious moves and he knows it..
..He takes N's queen, shouting

 It looks like he has the game in the bag..but he is overly confident,
and in one fall swoop, lands himself in checkmate..
 Not only has he lost the game and his/OUR five tunas, but for the remainder
of our time before lockdown, we have to endure N running up and down the tier
doing his pee wee herman laugh insanely loud, screaming..
 again and again and again and again and again...

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