Clifton Washington was waxing philosophical.

     “Bein’ in jail,” he told John, factually, “is gonna change this nigger.”

     “Is that right?” John was unconvinced.

     “Tha’s right!  I don’t ever want to go back to that Dallas County Jail again!  Ain’t nothin’ but animals in that place!  Animals smellin’ like pig shit!“

     “Jail sucks, for sure,” John allowed.  He struck the Pose. “I was in this jail one time…”

     “I’m talkin’ ’bout me!  Fuck yo’ bullshit cracker stories!  You always tellin’ stories.  Let me tell you a story, homeboy!”

     “Okay.”  John Fact was open to about anything (except anal).

     Clifton began, “I was in this jail one time…”

     “Up against the wall!” the sergeant screamed.  “Pull down your pants, spread your legs, and bend over!”

     What’s going on? Clifton wondered.  I’m just a poor Negro.  Why they be fucking with me?

     “Officuh!” Clifton cried.  “Officuh!”  A big tall Nazi-looking blonde hillbilly came strolling over.

     “What, nappy?”

     “Why you be wantin’ us to bend over?”

     “We’re gonna search your ass!  Make sure you don’t have no contraband in there!”

     “A contraband?  Who be stickin’ a contraband up their ass?”  Clifton mistakenly thought a contraband was a musical instrument.

     “Who knows?  People hide everything else up their ass!  Especially around here!”

     “You crazy, white boy!  You be smokin’ the crack?  ‘Cuz that’s all I got up in my beautiful black butt!  Plenty o’ crack!”  Clifton was amused by his wicked insightfulness.

     The blonde jailer leaned in, and whispered into Clifton’s burning ear, “We’ll see about that after midnight, doll.”  

     Clifton was not consoled.

     “What you in for?” Clifton’s new cellmate asked.  The body cavity search was over, and Clifton felt hollow and used.

     “I got busted for bunk!  Two joints!  Damn!” Clifton shook.  “They treatin’ me like I robbed a bank!  Lawdy have mercy!”

     “They’ll let you go, man.  Two joints ain’t shit.  Me, on the other hand…” the cellmate trailed off.

     “What?” Clifton was interested.  “What you do?”

     “Stole a car.”

     “A car?  Bro, probation’s a cinch!”

     “It was the sheriff’s daughter’s car!  She got a damn Lexus, man!  I rolled that bitch!  With her in it!”

     Clifton shook his head.  “You’re fucked, homey.” “No,” Clifton’s cellmate reminisced.  “I didn’t get fucked.  She just blew me.”

2026 R.M. Reliable Electric