We were handcuffed in our boxers and shower slippers, barely awake. They, however, were ready, looking for a reason to hit the button. And to be dead honest, they would've dish-ragged us in that unit that night had we'd done or said anything.
An obese, red-faced prison guard, his grey hair greased back, gets up from his swivel chair and shouts, "Hey retard, get over here!" He points at me and then in the direction of a faded orange brick wall. Two rookie guards [...]