Oz Drabble Tree Gives Love a BAD NAME!

[ozsaur]

The First Ever Oz Drabble Tree, The Return of Oz Drabble Tree, The Little Oz Drabble Tree That Could, Are You There God? It's Oz Drabble Tree, Oz Drabble Tree Knows Best, In Oz Drabble Tree, No One Can Hear You Scream, This Is An Emergency Oz Drabble Tree, Please, Sir, May I Have Another Oz Drabble Tree?, Leggo My Oz Drabble Tree, Come With Oz

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This one's special (100 words) - Schillinger/Keller

[cmk418]

Vern smiled as his new cell mate entered the pod. Nicely built white boy. Obviously the hacks had finally figured him out. “Welcome to Lardner,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Anything you need, anybody bothering you, you just come to me. The Brotherhood takes care of our own.”

“Good to know. And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” he said eyeing the new boy’s ass. “What’s your name, sweetpea?”

“Chris Keller.”

“Vern Schillinger.” He extended a hand and Keller shook it.

This one’s special, Vern thought.

This one might be the death of him.

The death of him (100 words) - Miguel Alvarez

[dustandroses]

Oz would be the death of him. The Homeboys were fighting. The Italians didn’t trust him. Torquemada was getting a facial, and the queens fussed around him clucking like hens. It was a sad fucking life that revolved around some faggot, and a handful of green pills.

Sometimes Miguel wondered if Keller hadn’t had the right idea. If he climbed this rail, for the time it took before he hit the floor, he’d be free to fly. The problem was, the landing would be a bitch. He studied the floor, one flight down, and a million possibilities away. Maybe tomorrow.

Idea (100 words) - Tobias Beecher

[sahem62896]

The moment the casts came off, Beecher was scratching at every miserable itch he had endured for six weeks. His face, his crotch, his armpits - they'd been everywhere! The ones under the casts had been maddening, but not as bad as the ones in his brain as he tried to figure out how he was going to get every last one of those fuckers back.

Just thinking of them made him scratch his atrophied arms harder.

He was startled when his uncut fingernails broke the skin... but as he looked at the fresh gouges, an idea began forming.

Beecher smiled.

armpits (100 words) - Schillinger/Beecher

[vanillalime]

"I can wiggle my ears."

"Yeah? Well, I can make farting sounds with my armpits," boasted Robson, giving a demonstration.

Schillinger looked thoughtful. "I can pick up things with my toes."

While the other Aryans nodded approval, Schillinger glanced at Beecher. "What about you, prag? Got any special talents?"

Beecher hesitated, then answered, "I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue." A quick flick out and up proved his claim.

"Nice," Schillinger leered. "I'll remember that tonight."

As everyone laughed, Beecher sat back and sighed. That's the last time he'd try to fit in with these idiots.

dreams (100 words) - Beecher/Keller

[vanillalime]

It was one of his favorite dreams: on a beach with Bonnie, convincing her she looked beautiful in a swimsuit. A *clang* brought him back to the reality of Oz in the dead of night.

Toby was awake, apparently searching for something.

"The fuck you doin'?" Chris grumped.

A response of unintelligible sounds and frenzied movements prompted Chris to get up. He studied Toby, saw desperate eyes in an anguished face.

Chris led him to his bunk. He held him, placing his hand over Toby’s racing heart until it slowed, until his breathing steadied.

It felt better than any dream.

Desperate eyes

[mazephoenix]

The new client had desperate eyes.
Chris liked that in a man.
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked the blond man.
“I want to submit and have my sins punished,” he said eagerly.
“You’ve come to the right place,” said Chris and smiled. “Now suck me, slave.”
“Yes, master,” said the blond one.
He pulled the zipper in Keller’s pants down and dove right in, running a wet tongue over the head of Keller’s rock-hard cock.
That one showed promised, mused Keller as his slave began to deep-throat him for real.
Keller moaned and the slave intensified his efforts, until Keller came down that sweet throat.
“What shall I call you?” asked Keller.
“Toby,” said the slave.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun,” said Chris and pulled him to his feet and kissed him.
The kiss tasted of his own salty essence and something sweet he could not name.

Tongue (100 words) - Nikolai Stanislofsky

[sahem62896]

Stanislofsky could only see a reflection of himself from the shoulders up in the tiny mirror above his sink. He looked down at his naked body and wondered if the goddamned pedik was going to find him attractive at all. It made no sense to do this if not. Maybe it didn't matter. After all, a man did what he had to do in prison.

He'd only seen this done once before in Gulag and never thought he'd be trying it himself.

For you, my dear friend Alexander, he thought as he carefully slipped the razor blade under his tongue.

Naked - Emilio Sanchez

[apple_pie_champ]

As the drug wore off - as he came down from his high - he noticed he was lying in a bed. The sheets were crumbled and soaked in sweat, and he was naked. He curled himself up into a ball. Those times were the worst - he felt like the whole world would crumble upon him, would grab him and rip him into pieces. And he was so damn cold.

He needed another shot so badly. It would make everything alright again. Emilio could feel golden again, for sure. He crawled to the bedside table and opened the drawer. She always stored some shit there. There got to be something. He can't take it anymore.

But then the door burst open and they grabbed him.

a second cup (150 words) - McManus/Murphy

[vanillalime]

Sean was rinsing his coffee cup when Tim stumbled into the room.

"You look like crap," Sean said bluntly. He poured a second cup and handed it to Tim.

"Didn't sleep well. Kept having nightmares," responded Tim blearily. "We were prisoners in Oz together, sharing a pod."

"Yikes."

"Guess who the warden was?"

"Hmmm. Adebisi?"

Tim looked at Sean in disbelief. "How’d you know?"

"I've had the same nightmare."

Tim rubbed his eyes. "Sister Pete was an inmate, too. She had killed a pro-death penalty marcher." Tim snorted. "How’s that for irony?"

"Drink your coffee," Sean instructed. "I’m gonna go shower."

Sean was halfway out the door when Tim called out, "Be careful not to drop the soap."

Sean paused, turned around, and said with a smile, "As a matter of fact, my fingers ARE a little slippery this morning."

Tim grinned and dumped his coffee down the drain.

shower

[mazephoenix]

Timmy took a shower, hoping to cleanse himself of his sins.
Satan would still find him.
Ever since he was a child, he knew the devil wanted him for his own.
The warm water only reminded him of hell.
The priest should have helped, but he didn’t.
Timmy was lost, in a sea of horned devils.
He laughed as he scalded his hand.

horned devil (134 words) - Warning: Real Person Fiction (but not slash)

[vanillalime]

Tom tapped his pencil against the yellow legal pad.

"A happy ending," whispered the winged angel into his right ear. "Toby’s paroled, Chris’s convictions are overturned. The fans will love you."

Tom rubbed his chin.

"Fuck 'em," hissed the horned devil into his left. "Kill 'em both."

Tom smiled.

The angel sighed. "Okay, I can work with that. Together, they meet a ball-less God at the pearly gates."

Tom nodded.

The devil snorted. "A just-a-dream ending is better than that. Remember St. Elsewhere?"

Tom frowned.

"Tell ya what," laughed the devil. "One commits suicide, framing the other for murder in the process."

An evil grin broke over Tom’s face. He began writing.

"Noooooooo!" wept the angel.

"Oh, shut up," Tom sulked. "In a few years, nobody’s gonna remember this show anyway."

Sighed-(Omar White)

[mazephoenix]

Omar sighed.
As usual Said slept peacefully while he tossed and turned, buzzing with excess energy.
He twisted in the scratchy sheets, while Said floated gently in the arms of the prophet.
Said was always so quiet, would never speak unless he had something important to say.
Omar choked on words trying to get through, becoming a confused jumble on the way out.
He had songs he wanted to sing, and no voice to make people listen.
He wanted more from life than to bounce in and out of solitary like a hyperactive Bugs Bunny.
He wanted a miss Sally to hold, and kids to bounce on his lap.
But he was in Oz.