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FORTY

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IN A GRIM OFFICE MUCH like millions of others around the world, a heavyset man sat in a too small chair. For the hundredth time this day and every day for what seemed like forever, he reached into his front shirt pocket for cigarettes that were not there and cursed silently to himself. He pushed a button on his desk. Almost immediately a skinny man with greased back black hair slid into the room. Killian Fridin always seemed to glide about rather than walk thought Sebastian Linear.

“When were you last out and about with our clientele, Fridin?”

Killian scratched his greasy head, rubbed whatever had come off the mess of grease between his fingers, analyzed it for a moment, and then spoke. “Well, sir, I saw our clientele,” Killian grinned as though he’d come up with this witticism on his own, and continued, “this morning at breakfast. Nothing unusual to report, the usual complaints about the food and lack of certain fruits, etc.”

“I’ve been watching the monitors closely the last few weeks, and yesterday I took a little stroll around my little facility. I’ve been watching a few people in particular,” As Sebastian said this, he tilted his head toward a bank of monitors against one wall of the office.

Despite the office being severely out of date, the video system was state of the art. A large screen could bring up video from any of the row upon row of color monitors, and from one of those, Sebastian pulled up video. On the large screen could be seen a laundry room with industrial sized washers and dryers; a dozen or so men in matching uniforms moved listlessly around the room. Sebastian, apparently looking for someone in this area, kept panning around the room and muttering to himself. As he did, he shifted in his chair, which groaned with each move.

Killian kept glancing from the monitor to the poor chair straining to contain Sebastian’s bulk, torn between curiosity about just who or what he was looking for and if this was the day that that poor chair would finally collapse. There were two office pools going regarding Sebastian’s chair. The first one involved the date the thing either collapsed or, Killian’s personal dream, crashed through this floor to the kitchen on the level below. The second pool involved the date when Sebastian having eaten one too many of Professor Good Fry’s AED Burgers, (which consisted of 1 ½ lbs. of ground beef, one slice each of cheddar, Swiss, American and Monterey Jack cheese, six pieces of bacon, all smothered in thousand island dressing), and became so wedged into his chair that he had to be extricated by the fire department.  Alas, today was not to be the day for either of the pools to come to an end, so Killian focused his attention on the big screen.

“So, Boss who are you looking for?”

“Those exchange prisoners we added last year.”

“Oh, yes, those two are extremely creepy. Even for this place. They are way too polite and well-mannered. I have a feeling they could slit your throat while drinking tea. Voss and Muis. They are usually together, and you can hardly miss them. They are like a couple of redwoods, solidly built and towering above everything and everybody else. There they are!” Killian suddenly shouted in his boss’s ear.

Sebastien would’ve jumped out of his chair, but due to his bulk he was wedged firmly in and only managed to slide forward, cracking his knee into the corner of the desk. “Mother fucker. Damn it, Fridin, I’m right here. Just point or tell me where. Never mind, I see the moving skyscrapers now.”

Sebastien zoomed in on Voss and Muis who had just approached a table with two large sacks of laundry and were dumping their contents out on the table. “I knew it!” Sebastien exploded, pounding his fist down on his desk. Look at those two. Do you see? When they first arrived at this little slice of heaven, what did you call them?”

“Well, I’m sure it was all in good fun and nothing that would offend anyone,” Friddin murmured while swiveling his head around looking for anyone that had snuck in while he wasn’t looking.

“For Christ’s, sake’s man, there’s no one in here, but you and I. You know how politically correct I am.”

“Of course, right. But can’t be too careful these days. Well, you know we had never done an exchange program before, and then we were told we were part of a trial program involving the Limburg Providence in Belgium. I couldn’t wait to see the Limburgers. I mean the jokes just write themselves, don’t they? And when they showed up, it was like a gift from heaven. They are like walking bricks of moldy cheese. Enormous, muscled cheese, but cheese just the same. All lumpy and pockmarked, yikes! And their scars! Frankenstein would’ve run off screaming like a little girl after taking a look at those too.

“Frankenstein’s monster.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Look at them now. Any cheesy jokes come to mind?”

Fridin looked at the screen, turned to Sebastien, and then back at the screen. “That can’t be them.”

“No? Wait for Sgt. Mongo to walk by and notice the size comparison.”

“You know he hates it when you call him that. Holy crap! That is them! No one is bigger than Sgt. Moritski except for the Limburgers. But they are, are...”

“Human-looking?”

“Yes. Wait! How did they get that super youth cream stuff? We pulled all the ingredients from our menu, and I can’t think of a prison that orders face cream for any reason.”

“How does contraband get into any prison Fridin? If the will is strong enough, it will find a way in. I received a memo regarding just this situation. I need to reply regarding how many inmates have been affected and the strength of the formula they are using. I have a feeling this may change sentencing guidelines a bit. These two supermodels are in for a string of armed robberies with violence and are supposed to do forty years. Now they have added ‘X’ number of years onto their lifespans. Should they get additional time here? Is the number of years supposed to be the punishment, or time needed to protect the public from violent criminals who’ll be too old and weak to do any harm when they’re finally released. But now, given this, who knows? ”

“I never really thought about it.”

“Well, people with bigger salaries than ours are going to do the thinking and hopefully come up with something.”

Six months later

If an inmate is found to have ingredients to make a formula or have a formula in their possession, additional 15 years will be added to their sentence. Said inmate will be examined to determine, if possible, how long they have extended their life depending on the formula they have taken, and their sentence will be extended accordance with these findings.

One month later

Thousands of lawsuits filed regarding unfair sentencing.