Of all the places you could’ve ended up, this place wasn’t the worst. It was a nice change of scenery compared to where you were before. You lay at the foot of your dusty cot, staring up at the molding ceiling of the Retratic Jail For Delinquents, a place for troubled souls who were worse than criminals, but more placid than the insane. You thought back to how you wound up in a strange place like this, what exactly you did… “Here,” someone said, banging against your jail bars. “I need you to eat this today.” It was your assigned prison guard, bringing you your daily food, with his dusty blond hair and stern expression.