Punishment with a Capital P

Looking into the concrete room, the one that features the electric chair as the only piece of furniture within it, Shamus second guessed himself: maybe that killing spree wasn't such a good idea after all. Yes, it was somewhat spastic. It was invigorating and life affirming as well. Like a breath of fresh shit free air after working a double at the Gary, Indiana Sewage Treatment Plant. Like swabbing out those canals inside your head and seeing all that deep yellow wax intermingling with deep brown specks and interjecting (quite belligerently), "Wow, I must be thinking too much." Like sweeping up all the gore of your life into a biohazard bag and flinging it to the mongrel dogs. While breathing the air of all that decieved him and delving deep into the canals of his life with mongrel dogs howling his despair, Shamus broke out his trusting bottle of Dr. McGillicutty Peppermint Schnapps and hit the town. Hit it real hard. With a brick. Sixteen hours later Shamus was detained by a gruff man wearing a badge. A man with apparently no trace of a sense of humor; he had barely cracked his jaw (which was smeared with frosting) with a smile as Shamus screamed drunkenly, "I DID NOT TELL HER TO LIE UNDER DEPOSITION!!! I TOLD HER TO LIE 'DER IN DAT POSITION!!!" Who knows. Maybe you had to be there. So now, 3 retrials and 2 appeals later, his eyes now rest upon the knotted wooden armrests of that which spells his doom. Did he care to die? He didn't know. He did know it was just too easy. You can't snuff out the sneaking suspicion of a life gone mad with a well placed lightning bolt. The feeling is seething under the mundane toil of all those children running mad with popsicles. Those pre-pubescent scoundrels just waiting for the lovely moment when they're chained within their padded, nine-to-five cell. Women and children weren't spared during The Rampage of Shamus: the rejection of a life etched so deep with desolation was. He shuffles in, chains clinging a cheery jingle. A single bubble of spittle forms at the corner of Shamus' mouth as the prison guard, grinning, straps him in.