It was a year ago. Detroit penitentuary. Staring down a black man's ass. I dropped the soap and now they we're going to make me eat crumbs. And they didn't look like cookie crumbs to me.
"You liked yesterday's lunch, right Freddy? Well why don't you try it again, I remixed it this time HAHAHA."
"I don't want that," I said.
Two men started to beat the shit out of me. The blows sent shockwaves through fiber after fiber of the corpse that was me.
Cascading water from above cleared the blood from my mangled face. Dizzy, I could hear them laughing as the white tiled walls merged into a blank, pristine void. Everything was just barely discernible forms now, and I thought then that I might as well give into their demands.
"He's going for it!" said a guy named Walter. Walter wasn't a part of the entire fiasco. He was a good guy, however I think something sparked a hidden fetish inside of him that day.
"Arrrgghhhh," said the man waiting gleefully to receive my service. His grin sank into a wince, and then he tumbled onto his side and died. A dart stuck out from his neck.
"Some motherfuckers are always trying to ice skate uphill." A man dressed like Blade stood at the entrance of the shower.
Wesley teleported right behind the whimpering man to my right.
"FFFRRROOOOOOSSST!" Welsey expressed himself as he shoved the man's arms into the poor soul's throat.
"What are you," the other man exhaled hopelessly.
"Looks like your mascara's running." And then Wesley turned him into a human pincushion. Hues of crimson oozed through the crevices of his dart infested carcass and twirled like a dainty stream into the shower drainage.
Lastly, Daywalker faced Walter.
"You better wake up. The world you live in is just a sugar coated topping!"
Walter stopped fapping as Wesley's fist impaled his face.
Awe inspired, I gazed at that wonder of a man, and I tried to contain my weeping. Wesley just ran his fingers through my hair.
"Why didn't you just use those darts in the movies."
"ok."
He smiled.