The Prisoner's Fried Chicken

What do Capital Punishment and Cravings for Fried Chicken have in common ?

“Henry, I don’t know about this new experimental drug we’re supposed to Execute The Prisoner with today.  I’ve heard that a guy in Ohio took ten to fifteen minutes to croak.  It appears he Gasped for air and Jerked around the whole time before he finally gave up the ghost.”

“Ours is not to question or ponder upon the decisions of our Bosses, Hank.  This State’s got the Death Penalty.  We’re oughta’ the other stuff.  So, like it or not, we gotta’ use the new stuff.”

“Speakin’ of givin’ up the ghost, here comes Ralph and Raymond with The Prisoner.  Hank, you strap him to the table today, and I’ll give him the needle.  We should be done with the whole thing in nothin’ flat.”

“Alright, Henry.  You’re The Boss.”  The guards walked The Prisoner into the Death Room and Hank strapped him down to The Table.

The Prisoner refused to look at anyone in the Eyes.  He stared straight ahead at the ceiling and remained mute.

Henry hooked The Prisoner up to the I.V. line and began giving him the State’s prescribed chemicals.

The Prisoner began to Gasp like a fish out of water, and Flop around under the straps holding The Prisoner onto on The Table.

Fifteen minutes passed and The prisoner continued to Gasp and Flop.

“Henry !  What’ll we do ?  The new chemical’s not workin’.  The People behind the Glass watchin’ all of this are beginning’ to look and act a little nervous and grossed out.”

“Quick, Hank.  Unstrap The Prisoner and help me drag him over to the old Electric Chair we haven’t used in a while.  We’ll Electrocute The Prisoner, and get this over with.”

The two Prison Executioners drug The Prisoner over to the old wooden Electric Chair, and strapped The Prisoner in from head to toe.

“Alright, Hank.  Clear out of the way while I crank up the juice and flip the switch.”

Hank shuffled hurriedly over to Henry’s side of the Death Room, and watched Henry flip the switch with dazed and confused moon-pie eyes. 

The Prisoner jerked around much more rapidly and violently, and continued to Gasp and Groan more loudly for a few excruciating minutes.

Finally Hank flipped the switch off, and Henry walked leadenly over to The Prisoner to take his pulse and check for any vitals.

“Good God Almighty, Henry.  The Prisoner is still Gaspin’ for air and Floppin’ around !  He smells like Fried Chicken !”

“And Henry, look at the lady behind the Glass sittin’ beside The Warden on the front row.  She just puked in The Warden’s lap, and all over his expensive alligator shoes.  He’s gonna’ be furious at us.  He loves those shoes !”

“Gol-durn-it !  We haven’t used The Chair in years since we started usin’ the killin’ chemicals.”

“Quick Hank !  Draw your Pistol.  You and me will form a Firin’ Squad !  We’ll take this Sucker out now !”

“A Firin’ Squad ?”

“You heard me, the State’s thinkin’ of bringin’ Firin’ Squads back because a Bullet is cheaper than these dad-blamed chemicals.  Now, draw your Fire Arm, Hank !”

Henry drew his Pistol, and he and Hank emptied their Pistols Chambers at The Prisoner in the deafening roar and foul smelling gun smoke, and swirling wall plaster dust filling the Death Room.

Not one Bullet hit The Prisoner.  He continued to Gasp, Flop around and smell like Fried Chicken in the Electric Chair he was still strapped into.

“Heck, I knew I shoulda’ been practicin’ at the Gun Range this year,”  Henry spat out disgustedly.

“Henry, look at the room on the other side of the Glass.  The chairs are empty.  We cleared everyone out without meanin’ to.”

“Good, reload your Pistol, Hank.  And we’ll have another go at it.  We’re gonna’ kill this Sucker if it’s the last thing we do on this gol-durned job.”

“Henry, I don’t think we need to reload.  Look at The Prisoner.  He’s not Gaspin’ or Floppin’ around anymore.  But The Prisoner still smells like Fried Chicken.”

“Speakin’ of Chicken, Hank.  How about you and me grabbin’ a bite to eat at the Chicken Coop on the way home ?  This has been one heck of a day.  I think we should treat ourselves.”

“Henry, how about McScrew Burgers.  I don’t think I’ll ever eat Chicken again.  Not in this Lifetime.”

“Sounds good to me, Buddy.”

“Henry, I sure hope The Prisoner was guilty ‘cause nobody should die this way.  In fact, guilty or not, NoBody.

“It’s a Job, Hank, and it’s our Job.  Be thankful that you’ve got one you Ingrate.”

“Henry, The Warden’s tappin’ on the glass window and twitchin’ his finger for us to come to him.”

“Gol-durn-it !  Why couldn’t This prisoner have died easy like.  Now, we’re in the mix.”  Hank shook his head and sighed loudly.  “The Warden’s probably gonna’ ring our bells about our lousy shootin’”

“Is that all ?”

“What else could he fuss about ?  We did everything we could think of to kill The Prisoner.  That’s our Job.  To kill The Prisoners they send our way, and put into the Death Room.  What’s it matter how they go ?  Dead is Dead.”

“Come on, Hank, let’s go face the music.  We can clean this mess up and bag the corpse later.”

“Henry, I’m quittin’.  I can’t do this anymore.  Today with That Prisoner not dyin’ and then finally dyin’ the way The Prisoner did was the last straw.”

“Don’t jump to any decisions now, Hank.  Let’s get a burger at McScrew’s, and then you go on home and talk it over with the Missus.  Sleep on it, Hank.  Things always look different the mornin’ after.”

“Sure, I’ll grab a burger with you, Henry.  But I’m done.  I’m movin’ The Family to a State that doesn’t have Capital Punishment - doesn’t have the Death Penalty.  There are plenty of Prisons in every State.  It‘s a growin‘ For-Profit Business.  I‘ll be able to find another Job guardin‘ Prisoners somewhere else that I don‘t have to go through what I had to go through today.”

“Hank you never struck me as a Lily-Livered Chicken.”

“Henry, mention Chicken to me again, and you can eat at McScrew’s all by your lonesome.”

Leah Sellers