Hawk: [Dramatically to himself.] I'm watching all of you. Do you hear me, you criminal pieces of trash? I see every one of you.
[Magazine flip.]
Hawk: Tennison... What are you doing?
[Magazine flip.]
Tennison: [Idly, distracted.] What are /you/ doing, Warden Hawk?
[Paper grab.]
Tennison: <Annoyed sound.> Hey! I was reading that!
Hawk: /I/ am doing my job! Those inmates are down there... plotting... and scheming...! And you're just SITTING there looking at...
[Magazine rustle.]
Hawk: Eh... PUSSY magazine!
Tennison: Well, I /am/ a Tom-Cat. What else would I be reading?
[Pause.]
Tennison: <Annoyed sigh.> [Defeated, as though he's saying what's he's expected of him.] What are they plotting, Warden Hawk?
Hawk: [Contemplative.] I... don't... know. [Pause.] But they /are/ plotting something. Every time we turn our backs, they talk... they whisper... they... /conspire./
[Magazine rustle.]
Tennison: <Grunts!> [Mutter under breath.] Gimme...
Hawk: Stop that!
[Magazine snap, hitting Tennison's paw.]
Tennison: Ow. <Annoyed groan.> What are they gonna do anyways? We got pretty good tabs on 'em. They practically can't take a piss without our authorization.
Hawk: [So dramatic and dark.] Oh what a fool you are, Tennison. You can't even see past your own muzzle. These rat-infested halls are filled to the brim with the very scum Scritch City has to offer. They know nothing of good and proper behavior. They know nothing of rules and regulations. They exist to cause havoc and mayhem... and that's it. You should remember that, Tomcat. It could save your life someday.
[Long Pause.]
Tennison: So is Hawk your first or last name? I just wanted to know, because if it's your first, that's pretty lazy of your parents.
[Long Pause.]
Hawk: [Resentful.] Shut up.
[Quickly the sound of closing cell doors and then silent room ambi.]
Terrence: <Struggling mousie noises.>
Russell: [Under breath.] You're gonna looooose.
Terrence: [Under breath.] No.
Russell: Was that a little twitch?
Terrence: <Struggling noises that build up into a little squeak.>
Russell: Ha! You blinked! Pay up, bitch!
Terrence: Ah, damn it! Here. [Cloth sounds.] Here. Three cigarettes.
Russell: Mine now, dummy.
Terrence: <Sighs.> I lose a lot to you. Can't figure out why.
Russell: [Pretty happy and confident.] I make you nervous. Mice have that problem. They get nervous about everything and then the rat ends up winning.
Terrence: <Sighing more sadly.> I don't think all mice are like that. I think it's just me.
Russell: Well, of course you'd side with your own kind. In a war between mice and rats, the rats would easily take a victory.
Terrence: How would /that/ happen?
Russell: Well, for starters, we would growl and hiss and snap at them with our big teeth. You know... psyching them out. Half the mouse army would flee just from that... and probably go change their diapers.
Terrence: <Scoff.> I don't wear diapers!
Russell: That's 'cause the prison don't issue 'em! You get to wet the bed like every other mouse.
Terrence: [Mad because something forbidden was brought up.] Hey! That doesn't count! You scared the living hell out of me that one time!
Russell: <Chuckles.> You're really not helping your case. I may have surprised you... but you still wet the bed.
Terrence: [Too annoyed/embarrassed to keep arguing.] Ugh. Whatever.
Russell: Anyways... after we psyche the mice out, we then go in for the kill. We bring in guns, knives, bats, and anything we can find to get the job done.
Terrence: [Wanting equality.] Well, what do the mice get?
Russell: [Blissfully.] /They get fucked./
Terrence: [Annoyed.] Just like that? They don't even have a chance?
Russell: Well, mice have always been at their best when they join a stronger gang. Not much good on their own.
Terrence: [Suspicious.] You're talking about a rat gang, aren't ya?
Russell: Well, of course! Rats are genetically superior to mice in just about every way.
Terrence: [Annoyed.] How do you know that?
Russell: <Chuckles before he replied.> Come over here, and I'll prove it to ya.
[Cracked knuckles.]
Terrence: <Small whimper.>
Russell: Yep. Thought so. Rats are smarter, stronger, taller, and the girls love us. Mice... well... They have that whole /cute/ thing happening.
Terrence: [Offended.] Cute? I'm cute?
Russell: You'd make a great poster boy for those greeting cards.
Terrence: [Yells angrily.] Fuck you, Russell!
Russell: [Instantly angry and dominant.] Hey! Don't you forget who's been the boss of this cell for the last year!
Terrence: [Instantly submissive.] Sorry. I forgot. [Pause.] So any ideas on our escape?
Russell: Hmmm. Not many. I was thinking about starting a riot or something.
Terrence: A riot? You're kidding, right?
Russell: Eh... There's a lot of rats in here. A whole army like I was telling you about. Get enough of 'em together, and we can break outta here real easy. Of course, you might get trampled, mousie.
Terrence: Well, that's what worries me.
Russell: [Confident.] Don't worry. I'd protect you. All we gotta do is talk to the other inmates in the courtyard and convince them that they aren't being treated fairly. Pretty soon the word will spread... and things will get very tense.
Terrence: [Thoughtful/Considering.] I guess that would lead to an uprising of sorts. [Pause.] But wouldn't that also cause a full lockdown? Even /if/ we were able to get out of our cells, there's still a lot of doors we'd need to get through.
Russell: <Sigh.> You're right. I was thinking we'd need a hostage. But even then, I don't think we could count on everyone involved to cooperate.
Terrence: [Mocking him.] I thought you rats work well together!
Russell: [Grumbling.] So it's a bad idea. [Pause.] And I'm punching you when we get outside.
Terrence: [Submissive.] I'm sorry.
Russell: Still gonna do it. So did /you/ have any bright ideas?
Terrence: I was thinking if we managed to get that grate off of the wall somehow, I could crawl in there and find a way out.
Russell: Yeah? As small as you are, you could fit in there. Not sure if I could though.
Terrence: Well, you're pretty scrawny for a rat though. You could get in there if you tried. The turns might be rough on you though.
Russell: Maybe... But how would we know where to go? We could end up getting caught in a fan blade or something. [Freaked out a little.] I don't know what's in there!
[Pause.]
Terrence: Well... we could steal the layout plans, I guess.
Russell: <Laughs lightly.> So go do it.
Terrence: <Sighs dramatically.> Okay, so it's a bad idea.
Russell: Heh heh. I'm gonna take a piss.
Terrence: [Depressed.] Whatever.
[Peeing begins.]
Russell: Don't worry.
[Peeing and Russell become muffled like they are in another room.]
Russell: [Muffled.] We'll think of something more plausible.
Terrence: [Muffled.] Yeah, I hope so.
Weasel: Those two are planning an escape. Oooooo! I jusst gotta tell! Gotta tell! Gotta tell! The warden will be sooooo happy with me! Yeah yeah yeah! I'm gonna do it! They'll be sorry! <Silly laughter for 5 seconds.>
qsharpe
