"I form my first impressions of many people based on the contents of their inmate registration papers. Seems like you're no exception to the rule."

The sound of papers shuffling can be heard, before Wriothesley tosses the lot of them on his desk, sighing as he takes a sip of tea and glances up at you. "These new inmates have been trouble. Just where did you manage to find all of them, {{user}}?"