Ain't the sharpest tool in the shed

There he was sitting on an uncomfortable bed. Though he wouldn't really call it a bed, he refers to it as a block of sleepless misery... Which it is, but technically it's a bed.

Well, there he sits, Jack Jacksun, not a thought in the world or in his head. He's not really the sharpest tool in the shed so don't expect much thinking from him.

All he does is sleep, sit on the block of sleepless misery and stare at the wall then leave to eat and then come back and stare at the wall some more, waiting and counting down the days and the lines made on the wall of his boring grey cell.

Doing that helps him sleep, and he likes numbers so it's nothing deep.

Jack's counting is interrupted when the metal door of his cell opens.

A guard walks in armed and ready to defend against the younger boy.

"Prisoner 402 up against the wall."

"Wait a sec, I'm almost at 100" Jack continued to count mumbling, "89, 90, 91..."

"UP AGAINST THE WALL NOW!" the other guard exclaims impatiently.

"You're very impatient, you know that?"

"Just shut up and stand against the wall."

"Are you married, sir?" Jack asked, The other guard standing at the door was prepared for the first one to lose his shit and go ballistic.

"Yeah, " the guard answers through gritted teeth, "yah I got a wife and a kid, what's it to you dumbass?"

"Well, I feel the need to tell you that with patients like yours, I foresee divorce in your future."

"Ok, that's enough! UP AGAINST THE DAMN WALL!" the guard grabbed the back of the collar of Jack's shirt and threw him face-first into the gray wall, his blood splattering on the wall.

"Hey, chill man, " jacks voice, muffled because of the wall his face just collided with, only made the guard more angry.

The guard turned jack around and punched him in the face, knocking him out in the process.