Chapter 202

Joking about going to prison was one thing, actually setting foot in one, a completely different thing. Stu couldn't help a twinge of unease as he shuffled along the first of many gray corridors, the tether between his ankles keeping his steps short while his hands cuffed in front of him left little movement if he stumbled and fell.

Chris would have said his face could use some character, but Stu preferred his nose as it was, only slightly misshapen from his numerous mishaps, usually at the other end of someone's fist. Ignoble tripping and a subsequent nose break wasn't the kind of scar he wanted to live with, or explain. Not when he knew it would end up repeated at every family gathering for the next twenty years. What happened to Stu's nose? Oh, he tripped over his big freakn' clown feet and did a face plant on concrete.