A recording plays. We hear gail and glory with the cell door between them.
Come on, give ’em over, give ’em back to me, Glory, right now. I’m goin’ on break and I need them to read the paper.
Glory, give ’em now. This is a direct order, Glory, do not be foolin’ around with those glasses, so help me God I need them to see—right now, come on . . .
Glory, will you give me back my glasses now.
Glory dear, I need those glasses back now . . . I know you can hear me. Just put them through the meal slot.
This is a direct order—
Glory, so help me God give me those glasses now—