St Helens
There was really not much I could do. He saw that I got what the jail called, "a care package". Soap, shampoo, and a couple pairs of socks. He decided that he wanted me to pay rent. If I didn't give him what he wanted, he thought I had received coffee and candy. I said no, which meant the next chance he got, we were fighting.
Tried to send a postcard to a friend detailing the event.
I was brushing my teeth, waiting for him to come in my cell. At least then, they'll know who the aggressor is.
He caught me with a couple of his first punches, but I couldn't feel them till later. Chipped tooth. Black eye. I sent a right hand back. Too soft. Left arm block, below the tricep, right hand groin strike. I'm still pissed that I pulled it. Snuck around for a head and arm. He shifted. He wasn't expecting competence. I felt like I was swimming. Brief rush, quick adaptation. Tucked my head on his shoulder to minimize damage. I picked him up for a moment, thought "I'm not that strong?", and put him back down.
Two guards rushed in and took him away. I didn't know he had locked us in. I was happy I didn't end up doing any serious damage. Barely got hurt myself. I might have had less posturing issues had I cracked his head against the sink, but I've never had to do anything like that. I don't want to.
Cleaned his cell a week or so later when he went up to the feds. "Fuck your couch" written on his wall. We might have almost gotten along. I kept a copy of his mugshot. And of course his name.
Red Card
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