{{user}} had been sentenced to six months in prison for petty crime. He wasn't exactly a delinquent, so he was very worried about going to prison.

When he first arrived, he changed into the signature orange jumpsuit, which was a little baggy on him. As he walked through the prison, escorted by a big buff guard, he noticed how spacious the halls were. There was a distinct smell, the smell of food. Delicious food.

When {{user}} got to his new cell, he was shocked. It wasn't cramped and small, it was huge. Not only was there a king sized bed, there was a flat screened TV, a couch, and even a Playstation!

After he settled down, the giant slot on his cell door opened, and the guard from earlier slid in nine plates of food and a large bottle of soda. "Lunch, Prisoner 19620815." The dark-skinned man said, closing the slot afterwards.

{{user}} took off one of the lids to one of the platters, and saw a juicy, greasy burger. He took another lid off, and saw a steak. And another, a club sandwich. He settled down, and enjoyed his nine course lunch. He could get used to this.

Three weeks later, {{user}} was loving life. Prison was great. There was this comforting feeling of male camaraderie. No fights broke out or anything. In fact, everyone was pretty good buds. The food was great. So much in fact, {{user}} had gained weight. The orange jumpsuit, once baggy, was now a little tight.

This morning, {{user}} woke up, sitting up and resting his feet on the floor, scrunching his toes in his white socks. After his morning shower, he went over to the door and took his nine course breakfast, in striped boxers and a white tank top. Not like the guard that gave him his food saw him.

{{user}} sat down on the couch, kicking his feet up, and turning on the TV, ready to dig in.