~Y/N POV~

As we were outside, just hitting the shit and trying to come up with a plan on how to get my Baby back. Otis was chomping down on some beans while I was on the lookout for pigs.

Otis: Is it just me, or are these the greatest fucking beans on earth?

Winslow: It's just you. Takes a while to get that prison slop out of your taste buds.

Otis: You got that right.

Winslow: So, Y/N, how do you figure we go about doing this?

Y/N: Well, I've been stewing about it 24/7 for about an eight ball. I got some ideas.

Otis: Y/N, we've been creeping around this fucking place for a month.

Winslow: Otis is right, it's suicide.

Y/N: Hey, we gotta have some patience, you know?

Otis: Yeah. You know, I've been running that movie, The Desperate Hours, through my head over and over again. Remember that shit? Anyone?

Winslow: Not really.

Y/N: No clue.

Otis: It's a fucking Bogart movie.

Winslow: I always liked Cagney better. He's a tough fucking little shit.

He then did this impression while holding up the shotgun he used to kill the guards and everyone else!

Winslow: "Come on and take it, you dirty, yellow-bellied rat or I'm gonna give it to you through the door!"

Wolfie then laughed as I was starting to think that he hasn't grown up a bit. I mean, I would tell him to grow up, but he's 54, so what's the point in that?

Winslow: So lay it on me. I can only assume in this scenario I'm Bogart. "Listen, sweetheart, here's the plan."

Otis: You know, enough of these lousy impressions.

Winslow: Lousy impressions?

Otis: How can you be fucking Bogart when you don't even know the fucking plan?

Winslow: I'm a lot more fucking Bogart than you are.

Otis: Well, fuck you. You are as delusional as fucking ever.

Y/N: Just cut the shit, alright? I'm pretty sure we just need to come up with something so we can get Baby out of the can. Wolfie, just trust Otis for once.

Winslow: Fine! Fuck. Whatever, man. Fuck, you can be Bogart, brother. Just what do plan we should do?

Otis: I say we make a house call.

Y/N: I think I know what you mean.~

~Baby POV~

Ten years ago, I've been incarcerated, now I'm eligible for parole.

Announcer: 23-20, you have a visit. 23-20.

The guards grabbed me and we walked down the hallway to the parole office. I really will miss that kitty in the vent, but at least I can reunite with Y/N.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

We walked into an elevator and into a room where we were gonna talk about my parole, so here's what I did: I smiled to make myself a bit more presentable and I sat down.

Officer 1: So, we're just going to, you know, just jump right to something that gave us grave concern. Since your time of incarceration, you've had 157 violations.

Baby: 158. 158.

Officer 1: Okay. Yeah, 158, the most recent being, you know, you were found in possession of an inmate manufactured weapon.

I nodded as his friend talked to me.

Officer 2: One second. Do you understand that these statistics do not reflect positively on these proceedings?

Baby: Look, suit, I gotta do what I gotta do. It's my rules or the grim reaper comes a-rolling through in a big black Cadillac. "Hey, bitch. Hop in!"

I chuckled before saying,

Baby: You dig?

Officer 2: Yes, I, um... I believe I do. Uh, take a look at these.

And he brought these pictures out that looked so old, I didn't know what to think!

Baby: Ah, a little closer, please.

He brought it closer until I recognized it.

Baby: Oh! Yeah.

Officer 2: Do you have anything to say regarding these photographs?

Baby: Yeah. You can't bring the past back up and prostitute that mock-up as a picture of something that happened a hundred years ago!

Officer 2: You think this happened a hundred years ago?

Baby: We can only live in the now. Now is the now.

Officer 2: Do, um, you believe you're, uh, suitable for parole?

Baby: I mean, look at me. Really fucking look at me. I'm fine.

I was laughing while saying I'm fine again.

Officer 2: Do you think that you are, um, ready to walk out that door, walk onto the street and live a productive life?

I took a moment with my answer until I said the answer...

Baby: Yes.

Officer 1: If down the line, for parole presented itself, and you were given a parole date, what would your plans be?

I was so excited just whooping and everything!

Baby: I'd be Snow White in the forrest, playing with all the animals. I'd play with the bunnies, whistle while I work.

I then just moved around while singing...

Baby: I'm a star, motherfucker
Stars always shine
Sparkle

Officer 2: Prisoner is denied parole for five years, at which time the case will be reviewed.

Baby: That's cool.

As this bitch named Greta walked up from behind me and put me up, I was able to backhand her and headbutt her nose!

Of course, I was beaten down by the warden's yesmen like the little dick bitches they are.

Greta: FUCKING BITCH!

~Y/N POV~

It was morning and all of us were sleeping outside, trying to think about what our plan is.

For real, I just wanna get my girl out of there. If I have to repeat what I've done to get Karen out of the can back in Ruggsville, then so be it. I'm ready to go rogue.

All of a sudden, we were woken up by two assholes wanting to interrupt our slumber.

Man: Wake up, asshole. Get those clams up where I can see them.

Wolfie got up as I managed to wake Otis up and get his attention, but before he could yell about why I woke him up, I covered his mouth while shushing him.

I signaled to him that there are two people confronting Winslow. We managed to get behind a tree and see that Wolfie was stalling and it looked like he saw us but didn't say anything about us.

Once I was close enough, I covered the mouth and slit his throat, much to the horror of this fat bitch.

Wendy's Baconator.

Once I threw the body on the ground, I aimed one of my revolvers at her, daring her to move a muscle.

Y/N: If I were you, I'd put the fucking gun down nice and slow.

That was when Otis appears with a shotgun, and cocked it, forcing the bitch to turn around.

Winslow: Shit, man. I mention a pair of titties and every fucking asshole forgets what he's doing, huh?

Y/N: You crying, motherfucker?

Winslow: I ain't crying. I got some fucking blood in my eye. That shit hurts.

Otis: Man, you sure can bitch about a song about nothing.

Woman: Please. I beg you. Please. Just let me go. Let me go and I won't... I didn't see anything!

Y/N: You want to run away, lying to us about not meeting us and then call the pigs over and take us back to the fucking clink? That's not happening, not while we're around you.

Woman: Let me go, please.

Y/N: You'll be dead before Otis cuts off your face, which is more than what you fucking deserve, I'll tell you right now.

Woman: Young man, I'm sorry. Young man, I'm sorry. Young man, I'm sorry. Young man, I'm sorry.

I went behind her with my rope and I started choking her with it, wrapping it around her neck, while moving it around as she fell onto the ground and when I snapped her neck, she wasn't breathing.

Y/N: Cut her fucking face off, put her next to the body. I'll pull their sets of teeth out.

Otis smiled and got to it as I focused on the dead guy's teeth. Thing is, I had a clamper for pulling stuff, so why not use it for pulling out their teeth?

Once I was done pulling their teeth, I put them in their hands, the guy's in his hand and the woman's in her hand after Otis cut her face off and hung it on a nearby tree and we escaped before anyone else could find us.

(A/N: Here are a couple little facts that you probably don't know, but Y/N had to pull their teeth out. Back in the 70s and 80s, DNA didn't exist, so people would identify bodies with dental records.

Also, you probably didn't know that the woman who Otis volunteered to cut off her face, killing her, was Lucinda Jenney, an actress, who happens to be BILL MOSLEY'S WIFE, whom he married in 2017, two years before the movie was released!

How convenient!)