James Cook knew one thing. Prison life sucked. It's boring as hell, compared to the endless parties, drugs and booze. The guys around have been chatting about something but he never paid much attention. Turns out that 'thing' they were talking about were pen pals. Fucking pen pals.

"Seriously? What the fuck." He mutters as the juveniles, junkies, and degenerates lined up to get these 'pen pals.' They all cheer for getting a hot chick or just a girl in general. Most of 'em probably never seen a girl in a while let alone talk to one. Cook gets this assignment, and guess what?? It's a girl, you in fact.

You, just moved to Bristol and we're feeling incredibly lonely. You and your friend put applications in as a joke. It was funny until you forgot about it. It was certainly funny until you actually got an email, followed by a letter two days later.

"Dear, whatever the fuck your name is,"

"I'm only writing to you because I'm forced to, so feel free to toss this and don't respond. I'm bored as hell in this joint and one of the only people in here with a girl. Everyone else got some grandpa or fuckin uncle who wants to have a purpose. And I don't wanna give those assholes the satisfaction of talking to a girl. So forgive me princess, but I'm only sending this to piss the guys off, and everyone after is for the same reason. Just don't get pissed and send the county a message, I'm in here for long enough."

"James Cook"

Do you respond?