It's a jail. Which, really, isn't all that interesting. However, if one wished to visit one Mark Cohen, this is where one would have to talk to guards.
A voice can be heard down the hall. "It's just a video tape! You can't open it up, you'll ruin it! These are precious memories people!" The voice is female and very familiar to Mark.
"Miss, Mr. Cohen is in here on drug charges, and we have to make certain that contraband is not being smuggled it." A moment later, the cop gives up on the tape, and ushers Maureen into a room where Mark is already sitting at a table in an orange jumpsuit. He looks tired, and has what looks like a waning black eye. He cracks a smile. "Hey, Maureen."
"Pookie! What happened to you? Drug charges? I keep trying to tell them you don't do drugs." She turns back to the police. "He doesn't do drugs. It's not in him to do drugs. It's just not! I'm calling Joanne and we're getting you out of here."
"Maureen, calm down, please." Mark sighs. "It's not that I was doing drugs, I bought AZT for Roger and Mimi." The cops just facepalmed and left Mark and Maureen in the room. "I've been talking to Joanne, Maureen. It's being worked out. Really." He fapcepalms. "I just want to get the hell out of here. Really. It's been too damn long."
Comments 55
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment