"LIGHTS
OUT!" yelled the guard, and the cellblocks in Lockwood
Peninteniary went dark, one by one. The prisoners crawled into their
bunks and settled down for a few hours of fitful sleep...except for
Inmate #4221 (listed in prison records as "KUBELSKY,
BENJAMIN--LIKELY ALIAS.")
Inmate
#4221 calmly folded a page in the book he was reading and slid it
under his bed, then lied back. His plan had taken months of setup,
but his phone call earlier in the day set the final piece into
motion. Nothing left to do but wait.
Within
minutes, a thunderous impact came from the other side of the wall. A
spider web of cracks formed on the concrete as it bulged inward. A
second impact quickly followed, but the wall finally gave way on the
third. Concrete and rebar exploded into the cell, clattering against
the bars. Inmate #4221 looked up at the giant hole and saw that it
was filled by Beacon City's chosen defender, the Cowboy.
Pieces
of the wall crumbled in his hands as he clenched them. His face was
almost as red as his signature bandana, and not even the wide brim of
his Stetson could conceal the anger in his eyes. The Cowboy raised
his fists and bellowed with rage...
"ORANGE
WHOOOOOOO?!!!"
The
prisoner smiled. "Orange you glad I didn't say banana?"
The
Cowboy's anger slowly melted into confusion, and finally into the
expression Inmate #4221 was most familiar with--annoyance. "You
sumbitch," he muttered, and stomped out of sight.
Inmate
#4221 stood up and walked toward the hole in the wall. "This,"
he said. "This is my best escape plan ever."
