Here’s Dick – Chapter 7
Richard Pennisman is locked up for selling the secret Coca-Cola recipe to North Korean rocket scientists. But Richard Pennisman doesn’t plan on staying locked up for long.
Chapter Seven – The Brother
A short stocky balding older black man is in the Macon State Prison visitor’s lounge, speaking to guard Harry Schette.
“Enos Pennisman, here to see Richard Pennisman.”
Harry chortles. “Did you say ‘Penis’?”
“I most certainly did not.”
Harry turns to his fellow guard on the other side of the room. “Hey Ricky, Dick Penis Man’s brother is named Penis Penis Man.”
Ricky nods, not looking up from a Game of Thrones book. “That’s hilarious, Harry.”
Enos crosses his arms. “No, it isn’t.”
Dick is escorted into the room and seated. “It kinda is, Enos. Just sit down, I need to talk to you about something.”
Enos Pennisman sits down across from his younger brother after wiping the seat off with a kerchief. “Talk about what? About how you besmirched our good family name?”
Dick rolls his eyes. “Oh, ‘besmirched’. You’re a truck driver with a history of DUI’s, which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“No. Although, you know, cut that out. No Enos, I’d like to speak with you about your truck.”
Bumps & Cherokee are on work detail in the basement; Cherokee banging away, widening the hole the crew plan to use to crawl into the now-disabled sewer pipe while Bumps turns up a radio to drown out the pounding and keeps watch.
Cherokee is huffing between hammer strikes. “I cannot wait to leave this infernal place and get home to my wife and my two babies. And to kick my cousin Johnny Red Feathers’ ass for horning in on her. Do you have anyone waiting for you on the outside, Bumps?”
Bumps Blackwell glances down a long hallway at an odd noise, crinkling his nose. “My girlfriend Sally. Tall drink of water. I gotta climb her when we’re making love.”
Cherokee leans over, his hulking frame resting against the long hammer handle. “Yeah, you are awfully short.”
Bumps peers down the hall and turns back to Cherokee. “Wait here a sec, I’m gonna go check something out.”
Cherokee resumes hammering away in rhythym to the 80’s New Wave music coming out of the radio.
“Out of the question.”
“But you’re my brother.”
“And if we’re caught, I’m in here with you.”
“We won’t get caught. My plan is foolproof.”
“It can’t be foolproof if there’s a fool at the helm.”
“You cut a hole in the bottom of your truck, park over the manhole and wait for a knock on your cabin. If anyone questions you, just say you’re temporarily broke down. Lift the hood and check the engine if you need to. We’ll be down old Mexico way, lickety-split.”
Enos fumbles with his visitor’s pass, staring down at the table. “I don’t know.”
Dick pushes forward. “Think of mom. Wouldn’t she be happy to see us working together?”
Enos sighs and stares out the window.
Bumps creeps down the long hallway which opens up into a large sub-basement chamber where hundreds of inmates are feverishly racing around, bottling a black substance while Warden Amanda Wu hollers directions harshly at them in Korean.
“The fuck goin’ on here,” Bumps mutters. He makes his way down to the work floor and flips one of the bottles over in his hand, reading ‘Wu Cola’.
“What’s this shit?” Bumps whispers, before hearing a tapping high-heel shoe directly behind him. Bumps spins around to find Warden Wu glaring at him.
“This shit is your new job, prisoner.”
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