Title: Visitation
Featuring: The Masked Violators
Date: 11/2/16
Location: Orleans Parish Prison - New Orleans, LA

The prison visiting room was what one might expect from such a place.

Four dingy cubicles, each with a chair. Dividing the room (and each cubicle) was a thick wall and pane of equally thick (and in some spots quite dirty and/or scuffed up) reinforced “glass”. On the opposite side of the aforementioned imposing divider, sat another chair; one per cubicle. Older-model telephones adorned a wall in each.

One of our masked heroes stepped into the visiting room; this one wore a mask of red with blue and yellow trim. Dressed in a navy blue suit that didn’t quite match the brighter blue notes of his mask, the red of his neck tie made up for it by matching his bold, vivid red mask perfectly. While he was known to have several versions of his signature red mask, this one had the eyes, nose, and mouth all cut out, all trimmed with yellow and blue. His eyes wide in wonder and discovery, they swept the visiting room.

MV#1:
Ah! Isn’t this nice?

A nearby guard took note of him. Clearly he didn’t think so. Burly and bored, the guard glanced at Masked Violator #1 with the most interest he might exhibit all day. MV#1 nodded towards the guard as he stepped excitedly towards him, tipping an imaginary hat.

MV#1:
Hello, constable! I’m hoping you might be of service to me. I’m here to see an old confidante of mine, a prisoner at this very detention center… he goes by the name of--

GUARD:
I know who you’re here to see.

Even with the eyes, nose and mouth exposed, it could be a challenge to determine just what facial expression 1 was sporting. Was that a look of surprise on Violator 1’s face? Horror? How the hell should I know?

MV#1:
DO you?!?

Yeah… it was surprise. Definitely surprise.

MV#1:
How incredibly fortuitous!?!  What are the chances of that?!?

GUARD:
You serious? ...the mask, man. How many prisoners do you think are in this place who insist on wearing a wrestling mask 24/7?

Violator 1 chuckled, offering a light-hearted wallop to the stocky guard square in the middle of the back - jolting him slightly. The guard rested a wary hand on his sidearm, instinctively. But only momentarily.

MV#1:
I can’t answer that, I’m afraid. I only just got here. As I said: I’m here to see a friend--

GUARD:
Pod Number 2, sir.

More surprise.

MV#1:
Spill the beans! How did you know who I’m here to see? Front desk tell you?

MV#1 moved in tight on the officer, eyes squinted and accusatory. The guard absent-mindedly adjusted the fading cowboy hat on his head.

GUARD:
Well… firstly what tipped me off was the mask. Second-like… he’s the only prisoner who has a visitor right now. And he’s sitting right there.

1’s favorite corrections officer gestured, again, to the second cubicle from their left. Incredulous, Masked Violator 1 looked around and noted that the Guard was absolutely correct: there wasn't another visitor in sight. When his wide eyes swept the room they DID spy his friend and partner, in this case quite “in-crime”, sitting on the other side of the hazy glass/desk divider of cubicle Number Two.

MV#1:
Serendipity! Thank you, sir!

“Here we go,” Masked Violator #2 mumbled under his breath, as he sat on his stool, waiting for his masked brethren to approach his cubicle.

Before all of this, #2 was considered a problem. Now, he had become a hardened Beast.

His mask was mostly yellow - a stained yellow (mostly around the mouth), and very generic. Red and blue trim around the eyes, nose and mouth, with sweat stains that carried a stench that everyone noticed except him. Back in the day, in their hey day, Masked Violator #2 was an alcoholic, and an abuser of drugs. Today, he was a convict on the verge of release, with zero belief or respect in the “system”.

He had been promised his release by his public defense attorney ten times in the past year alone. No matter, you only do two days in the joint anyway: the day you go in, and the day you leave.

MV#1 leapt into his chair excitedly, wrenching the phone receiver from the wall and clenching it tightly, clearly smiling through his red mask. He pointed to 2’s phone, on the other side of the plexiglass divider. Then gestured again, even more enthusiastically. Grudgingly, Masked Violator 2 picked up the phone on his end and reluctantly brought it to his ear.

MV#1:
This place is FANTASTIC! I expected something darker… gloomier… But this is just SUPER! The “clink”! The “big house”! The “hoosegow”! And look at YOU! You look… like yourself!

MV#2:
I thought we discussed Taco Bell? I specifically told you not to come here without Taco Bell!

MV#1 recoiled. Clearly as disappointed in his reception as his partner was in the lack of Nacho Supreme.

MV#2:
What’s it like on the outside? Britney Spears grow her hair back yet?

2 squinted.

MV#2:
You lost weight. Are you sick?

MV#1:
Sick? Heavens, no! I’m doing a juice cleanse, thanks for noticing! It’s a no-juice juice cleanse. Incredibly effective. But how about YOU?!? I see YOU’RE not missing any meals, eh, old chum? And forget about Britney - I’m fairly certain that restraining order is still active. Besides…

1 lowered his voice to just above a whisper, peering quickly over his shoulder at the corrections officer still watching them - puzzled and amused.

MV#1:
...I’m here to spring you! Bust you out! Open the gates! ...spring you!

Annoyed, Masked Violator 2 palms his mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

MV#2:
What planet are you currently on?! Did you hear ANYTHING that I said on our call last week? I’m hearing I’ll be getting out in a few weeks. Listen, I’m not doing this again, I can’t do anymore time in the joint. I’m barely surviving as is. Some of my MS-13 brothers have my back, but I’m tired of sleeping with a sock over my heart.

The look in 2’s eyes spoke volumes. He was legit worried.

MV#2:
I’m gonna do better this time. I’m going to stay clean. We need a plan. You’re the smart one … What. Is. The. Plan?

Violator #1 picked up what his pal was putting down, adjusting his mask with his free hand absently.

MV#1:
I thought you’d never ask.

Another quick glance over his shoulder and 1 leaned in - tight to the glass. He beckoned 2 to follow suit.

MV#2:
What, man. I’m not f_cking around.

Another come-hither beckon - this time more insistent. Two obliged with a sigh, leaning in. His frustration was building. Masked Violator #1’s voice was calm, confident, and quiet.

MV#1:
I’m going to bake you a cake. And INSIDE this cake--

2 punched the glass - 1 flinched back, dropping the phone entirely and sliding back in his chair. Two guards stepped into 1’s sight, each putting a hand on 2’s shoulders. Muffled words were exchanged. As quickly as he had blown up with rage, 2 was now calm. 1 reached back for his phone as 2 begged off the guards.

MV#2:
Hey, chill… I was joking around with him, man. It’s cool, it’s cool…

MV#2 turned back to his friend. Eyes hard.

MV#2:
We need a plan, one… You’ve gotta help me… You’ve gotta do this.

Number Two stood, hanging up the phone with eyes still set on his partner. 1 could read his lips: “You’ve gotta do this”. And just like that, Masked Violator #2, the only friend 1 had in the world, was lead away.

MV#1:
I won’t let you down, old chum.



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