SKILLS GAINED:

CONCEALMENT FROM 3 TO 4

An astute observation of somebody notable was the seed for my insight. It only bloomed when I had to watch my back. I'm not on trial yet, but I know you have to carry yourself different in prison. They don't have to know I have a knife. For all intents and purposes, it doesn't exist.

The following is not written physically. Unfortunately, it's hard to write a journal in this situation.

It was a blur, and it was all going so well.

I had the opportunity to express my skills, and I whiffed it. Incompetence is a slow and insidious killer.

I got rammed off the side of the road. Tired, exhausted - watched a coworker get filled with lead.

Next thing I know I'm in the back of a cop-car.

After that, I'm booked, my mugshot's taken - all my stuff's gone, and I'm being questioned.

I'm just the getaway driver. I don't eat meat, I'm herbivore - no more answers. After a few hours, no more questions either.

After a few days - I managed to slip past the system before - I have to take a shower. It only takes a few seconds for my mouth and nostrils to catch a good amount of water, and next I'm being restrained as I cough out the liquid - throughout all of that, I only heard a horse whinnying throughout the drain pipes. I had no control over this fact. God-DAMN this curse.

Guess what? Suicide watch. I wonder if people think I'm a coward for doing that? I wonder if ANYONE has tried to kill themselves like that?

Do those pigs seriously believe this shit? Then again, I haven't said anything to 'em.

Probably not going to look good in court.

Shit, can felons still work Postal?

Oh, god. I left the fucking faucet on, too...

SKILLS GAINED:

Thievery 0 to 3

Plea deal. I got a plea deal to avoid getting my head cut off.

So much for the expedience of the justice system.

A. Fucking. Plea-deal.

Do you think I can afford a good lawyer on my salary? Because I sure can't!

Miss the bonuses, though. I got dental coverage.

Technically, I still do, but..

Everything is rough, everybody sucks. Everybody thinks they're 'hot-shit'. Pfah! Dumb-fucks!

I'll tell you what I see. You know what I see? A bunch of losers with a spare few assholes preforming hits for some dipshit who acted out of line.

What'm I doing? Well, shit. I ain't got any contacts outside of this joint barring me' dad, but I'm a damn-fine pickpocket.

Someone needs cutlery from the kitchen?

I'm already gone.

Somebody needs a battery?

Looks like one of the guards left a flashlight somewhere.

Can you get these keys to Larry without anybody noticing?

Buddy, I gave him those a week ago.

Did you repent before the eyes of the lord?

Buddy, I 'AM' him.

I keep getting screwed over by these circumstances, though. Can't shower directly under the faucet-head, or my lungs get filled with water. God, I can hear those fucking demon-horses screaming and whinny-ing down the drain, trying to DROWN me. Even in prison those fucking Kelpies are after me.

They got me off suicide-watch initially when I transferred over here, probably assumed it was because of the sentencing, and I avoided kicking the bucket by taking a shower - avoided drowning in my own cell by using my spare socks as washcloths if I gotta' wash my hands.

I'm going to drown in this fucking place before-long.

Wait, shit. I've got a tattoo now too. It's an Evil Eye.

Doesn't look half-bad, too... Especially since a coke-head murderer inked it for me.