Zombie Farm Stories: Randy's Tale Read online

  Zombie Farm Stories: Randy’s Tale

  M. L. Crisp

  Copyright © 2016 M. L. Crisp

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1530877474

  ISBN 13: 9781530877478

  For my friends at the park

  Special thanks to Debbie, Sarah, Kay, Kate, Thomas,

  Regina, Chris, and Grizzly. Thank you for all the support

  and encouragement, it made all the difference!

  Contents

  Inmates

  Guards

  Zombies

  Author’s Note

  INMATES

  “Wake up convict!”

  Randy opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep on the way to the penitentiary. The obese prison guard hovered over him, his nametag read “FILNUTZER.” Geeze, with a name like that, the tubby bastard probably took all kinds of abuse growing up. Probably why he’s in corrections now, nobody dreams of growing up to become a corrections officer. It’s the career of last resort, it’s volunteering to spend half your life in prison, refereeing squabbles over yard time and whether or not some shitbag stole some other shitbag’s dessert. The fat bastard probably washed out of the military, or more likely, couldn’t get in because he was too fat. Randy had been around enough prison guards in his time to recognize the type.

  “Move your ass convict!” Filnutzer bellowed, the grip on his baton tightening.

  Randy yawned, fat ass here might yell and scream, but Randy knew that if fatboy assaulted him, it meant an incident report and a day or two of paperwork. That’s one thing Randy had figured out in all of his various incarcerations, if there’s anything prison guards don’t like, it’s paperwork. No, more than likely, this guy just wants to get back to his comfy chair and watch game shows or soap operas, maybe sneak into a shitter stall and rub one out.

  Still, it was a long bus ride, and he would just as soon get to his bunk and sack out. “Simmer down there buddy, I’m getting up.” Randy said.

  “I ain’t your goddamned buddy, now get up before I drag your ass out of here!”

  Randy stood up and stretched his cuffed hands, then moved into the aisle of the bus. He stepped out of the bus, and joined the other new fish waiting outside of the gates. Randy got a whiff of the morning air and nearly puked. “Goddamn, what the fuck is that smell?” He asked, wishing he could hold his nose.

  “Paper mill.” Another convict stated.

  Filnutzer smirked, “yep convict, get used to it, we make sure to leave some windows open at night in the cellblock, just so you fellas can enjoy it.” Filnutzer held up a walkie talkie to his mouth. “Ok, they’re all out of the bus.”

  Somewhere in the prison, somebody pushed some buttons, and the gate slid open, and Filnutzer marched them in.

  After processing, Randy was taken to the warden’s office, he was told to have a seat in the waiting room. The secretary was cute, in sort of a buttoned down way, she wore glasses, and kept her hair in a bun. Randy imagined her hair down, brushing against him as she bounced up and down on his cock.

  The secretary was probably used to inmates in the waiting room, and made sure not to make eye contact. After a few minutes, the secretary didn’t look up, but she informed him that the warden would see him now.

  Filnutzer followed him into the spacious office, the warden was seated behind a big wooden desk. Randy nearly shit himself, the warden was a woman! It was usually some crewcutted asshole, occasionally it might be one of the former hippie types that would try to get in his head and ‘relate’ to him, never a woman though. God, how Randy missed the 70’s, the 80’s were just too fucking goddamned weird.

  It was a fat, disgusting looking woman, he’d probably rather fuck a man than her, but she was a bitch just the same. The warden looked up and smiled, she had short spiky hair, the kind women were wearing these days. Another reason Randy missed the 70’s, women were women, even the cunt feminists, now chicks wanted to be guys, especially the ugly ones.

  “Officer Filnutzer, please wait in the outer office while I speak to Mr. Wagner.” She said, her voice sounding like donuts and shame.

  Filnutzer stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. The warden, had an open folder on her desk. “Please, have a seat Mr. Wagner.”

  Randy sat down in a folding chair that had obviously been set out for him. There was a couch against the wall, but that was clearly off limits to his ass. The warden paged through the file in front of her, as if this was the first time she had read it. Randy had been through this drill many times. Most wardens wore either Old Spice or Aqua Velva. This bitch smelled like discount store hand lotion. She also had a bugar hanging from her nose, looking like it might drop at any moment.

  Finally, the warden took off her glasses and looked up from the file. “Hello Mr. Wagner, I’m Gertrude Wilson, I know a female warden is probably new to you, you will address me as warden or Ms. Wilson, understood?“

  Randy smirked, ‘Ms.,’ what a pretentious cunt, there‘s no mystery here, like anybody would marry her. “I reckon.”

  “I see you graduated from rape to murder on this last go round.”

  “What of it?” Randy asked, already bored with this routine, despite the novelty if it being a woman this time.

  “Says here some bleeding heart judge took pity on you and gave you life in prison instead of the death penalty, that was a mighty nice favor.”

  “Some favor, a lifetime without pussy.” Randy spat, knowing this would piss off the warden, you have to break up the boredom somehow.

  The warden leapt to her feet, grabbing a coffee mug off her desk, and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the office door, Filnutzer cracked open the door, “everything alright in there mamm?”

  The warden massaged her temple. “Everything’s fine officer.”

  Filnutzer closed the door again. Randy had seen versions of this little routine played out many times. If a corrections officer really thought there was an altercation with an inmate in the warden’s office, he would already be in here, beating the holy hell out of Randy, and several of his buddies would be on there way to get in their licks too.

  No, this coffee cup throwing nonsense is one of those things all warden’s must learn when they first get the job, even, apparently, bitches. It might scare a new fish, but not a seasoned con like Randy. He could tell the warden was a little disappointed it didn’t get a reaction out of him, and she sat back down in her overstuffed chair. While she was standing up, Randy noticed her boobs hung down nearly to her belly.

  The warden again picked up the file. “Look Wagner…” She dropped the ‘Mr.,’ they always drop the ‘Mr.” “…I know this isn’t your first incarceration, but barring a legal miracle, it is going to be your last. You’re going to grow old and gray in here Wagner. In a few years, I’ll be retired and working in my garden, and you will still be here. Simmons, our youngest correction’s officer, fresh out of the Marines, will, if he stays here, retire after twenty years, and you will still be here Wagner, rotting away!”

  Randy had to admit to himself, the bitch was right, he had gotten life this time. His longest stretch was six years, after his last arrest, he had gotten out a couple of years ago. But he would be damned if he was going to show any emotion about it in front of this fugly cunt.

  “You ain’t telling’ me nothing I don’t already know.”

  The warden smiled. “What I’m getting at here Wagner, is that you’re going to be here a long time, the rest of your life. You can make it easy time, do some laundry, watch the little black and white TV in your cell, that the state has so generously provided, jerk off to Victoria Principal on Dallas, play foosball in the dayroom, get extra yard time, tattoo the hell o
ut of yourself. Hell, the guards might even look the other way if you get some illegal contraband. All you have to do is behave yourself.”

  “And if I don’t behave myself?

  “Then kiss your TV goodbye, which I’m sure your cellmate will be happy about, and say hello to solitary confinement. Yard time cut to the bare minimum, less if we can get away with it. If you have any relatives or friends that still associate with you, no visits, if they send you so much as a piece of candy, I swear to God, I’ll let Filnutzer eat it right in front of you. Your cell gets tossed every day, if they find anything that even looks unauthorized, in the hole you go.”

  In response, Randy cleared his throat and hocked a loogie on the warden’s carpet.

  The warden sat back in her chair, closed the file, and called for Filnutzer to come in. “Take this piece of shit to his cell, I’ve got enough on my plate today, but Monday I’m going to work up a detailed plan of action for our Mr. Wagner here.”

  Randy got up, and left the room, with Filnutzer behind him.

  They entered the cellblock, and Filnutzer shoved the baton into the small of Randy’s back when they reached the middle of the walkway. “Home sweet home shitbird.”

  Randy stopped, and Filnutzer spoke into his radio, and the cell door slid open, and Randy stepped inside. Randy watched as Filnutzer walked away, and heard a voice behind him.

  “What you in for?”

  Randy sighed, if there’s one thing he hadn’t missed about prison, it was this. The social aspect of it, do you level with your cellmate about what you did, or lie? He turned around to see a large black man standing over the shitter wiping his ass. The bearded man inspected the shit paper, shrugged, tossed it in the toilet bowl and flushed.

  He stood up fully, and Randy finally realized how big this man really was, he sort of reminded him of the Hulk, from that TV show a few years back. The man pulled up his pants, and stepped forward, extending his hand. Randy knew he hadn’t washed it, but accepted it anyway, and shook it.

  “Name’s Lamont, you?”

  “Randy.”

  “Like I asked, what you in for?”

  Randy knew he had to be careful, if you tell somebody you’re a rapist, even the most hardened criminals start thinking about their sisters and mothers, and might beat the shit out of you, so he decided to just be partially honest. “Murder.” Randy answered.

  “Me too, bank robbery that went south, a Pig got in the way.”

  “They always do.”

  “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth, at least I didn’t cap no citizens, but Johnny Law don’t care none about that.”

  “Naw, I reckon they don’t, so how’s time here? Never had a bitch warden before.”

  “It ain’t so bad really, warden is set to retire in two or three years, so she’s just riding out her time. She don’t give too much of a shit, I fuckin’ dread her retiring, and some fresh faced puke takes over, it’s always the young ones with something to prove that are hard assed about everything.”

  “No shit, but I already got her pissed off, don’t want her thinking I’m no pussy.”

  Lamont grimaced, “Now wait a minute here, you go upsettin’ the apple cart, and they might take the TV away, Moonlighting is on tonight, I don’t miss Moonlighting for shit!”

  Randy could see the look on Lamonts’s face turn into a scowl. “Whoa there big fella’, it was just a first day pissing contest, shit happens all the time.”

  “Yeah, well, if they come to take the TV, you best get on your knees and apologize.”

  “You got it buddy, what’s this TV show that’s got you so worked up anyway?”

  Lamonts’s face loosened a bit, and then he chuckled. “Moonlighting, it’s this show about a detective agency, got this new guy in it, Bruce Somethingorother, funny as shit, and this chick, Cybil Sheppard, pretty as fuck. I tell ya’, if I ever got hold of her, I don’t think I could even fuck her, she’s too pristine for that, I’d just wanna’ have her sit on the edge of the bed while I jerked off to her.”

  “I’d never pass up fuckin’ a pretty girl, but Susan Lucci was always like that for me, I don’t even like them daytime soaps, but I’d watch hers sometimes and jerk it to her.”

  “Oh, Cybil’s way prettier than her, makes her look like dried up bubble gum.”

  Randy almost laughed, but he was intrigued, “you don’t say, well, I got to see this piece of ass for myself.”

  Lamont gritted his teeth, “don’t talk about her like that!”

  This was getting weird for Randy, he didn’t know quite what to say, “so besides Moonlighting, what else do you watch?”

  Lamont turned around and rifled through JET magazines and skin rags, and found a tattered TV Guide with Bill Cosby on the cover, “all we got is antenna, the state ain’t springing for no cable. Here, I got my shows circled.”

  Randy took the magazine and studied it, “you got some good shit here, I watch a lot of this stuff too, MacGuyver, Stingray, Airwolf, love that shit! I ain’t into all these sitcoms you got circled on Thursday, but I can live with it. We do got a problem on Friday, you got Diff’rent Strokes circled, that’s the same time as Knight Rider.”

  “Non-negotiable, I gotta’ laugh about something up in this bitch, and that little bastard makes me crack up!”

  “Come on, you really watch that over a cool ass tricked out Trans-Am?”

  “I tell ya’ what, you can switch over and watch after Strokes is over, catch the last thirty minutes, that’s when all the action happens on these shows anyway.”

  Randy didn’t really give a shit, he just thought it was funny this big bruiser was so into TV. Of course, on a life stretch, there’s not much else to look forward to except that, that’s something he was going to have to get used to. He had seen fights break out over the years over who got to watch what, and who’s football team was better. He had better shit to look forward to, but not anymore, shit, he was starting to get depressed. “Well, whatever, as long as we can watch Alice, that’s a funny show.”

  “Sure, I like that one too, Flo, now there’s a bitch I got no problem fuckin’, I’d bend that bitch over the food prep counter and go to town!”

  Randy guffawed, “Really? I mean, I know they act like she’s hot shit on the show, but I ain’t never found her to be that myself, I gotta’ say, makes me wonder if this Cybil Sheppard girl is all you make her out to be.”

  Lamont laughed, “I ain’t sayin’ she’s special in the looks department, but she’s a sassy bitch, reminds me of a sister, and you can tell she’s been around the block, nothing pristine about that one, bet she knows her way around the sheets is all I’m sayin’.

  Randy grinned, “you got me there buddy, ain’t like I would turn her down or nothing.” Randy handed the guide back, “whatever you want to watch is fine by me. Now that he had diffused the TV situation a little, he changed the subject. “What about this Filnutzer prick, he blows a lot of hot air don‘t he?”

  “Yeah, he runs off at the mouth a lot, but like most screws, he’s all bark and no bite, I doubt he’s ever been in a real fight in his life.”

  “Figured as much, he let us get away with shit?”

  “You know how it is, all the turn keys ever really want to do is kick back and drink coffee, talk about cars they can’t afford, and girls they can‘t get, they don’t never do nothing except the higher ups make em’. Ain’t no different here, oh, you got the occasional Tackleberry…”

  “Tackleberry?”

  “Heh, you know that movie, Police Academy? Funny as shit, anyway, the one idiot gung-ho cop in it, his name was Tackleberry. Simmons is the Tackleberry here, in fact, that’s what the other screws call him, well, Tack for short.”

  “Oh yeah, the warden mentioned him, young fella’, was in the Marines, right?”

  “Yeah, for about a year or so from the convo’s I heard.”

  Randy smirked, “A year huh? Sounds like a wash out to me, couldn’t hack it, so now he’s here.”

  “Y
eah, probably, he jumps our shit now and then, but most of the screws keep him in line. Anyway, a lot of screws will slip you shit if you grease em’, just don’t expect that shit from Filnutzer or Tack.”

  “Say, you got any smokes?”

  Lamont shook his head, “nope, this here is a non-smoking facility, although, I seen some of the guards sneaking a smoke now and then, but they risking getting fired, the warden’s that serious about it.”

  Randy frowned, the warden left that out of her little orientation. Well, there was no way he was going to quit, so he would have to find the right guards to grease.

  Randy looked around, and whispered, “I only done short stretches before this, so I ain’t never needed a prison bitch, I was fine with jerking off, but ain’t no way that’s gonna’ cut it for the time I’m doin’ now.”

  Lamont nodded and whispered back, “I ain’t into that shit myself, my hand works good enough for me. But others got Little Joe for that, cute ass little white boy, less you wanna’ pick your own, but he’s willing, and almost looks like a chick anyway.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah, he was clipped for drugs when he was eighteen, guess he didn’t just say no.” Lamont laughed when he said this, “anyway, he came in fresh as a daisy, eighteen years old and immediately got busted for drugs, happened to be buying from an undercover, shit luck right there!”

  Randy whistled, “boy howdy, I’d say that is some rotten ass luck, but they didn’t cut him some slack, first time offender and all?”

  “Nope, I don’t know all the why’s and wherefore’s, but the pretty little fuck is here now. At first, they made a wig for him out of a mop head, but he growed’ out his hair, so ain’t necessary now. They make it worth his while though, they take turns givin‘ him their desserts.”

  “So he’s into it huh?”

  Lamont sighed, “well, he put up a fight in the beginning, shoulda’ seen it, his little pipe cleaner arms waving around, screaming in his almost bitch voice, it was a sight to see. But he simmered down, he does what he’s told now. Sully, in the cell across from us, even got a box of makeup, lipstick, eye shadow, shit like that.”