It was a case of "Tiny little object meets an unstoppable force."
So anyway, this little idiot got it in his head that he was supposed to have a phone call last night. Started kicking and screaming.
Chuck and I actually checked his file and the computer. He was so pathetic I think we felt kind of sorry for him.
He had nothing coming. Told him he would get a phone call on saturday morning, just like everybody else.
Apparently that wasn't good enough for him.
We didn't think anything more of it and took out the few who wanted to go out to rec. Figured the situation was over.
About half an hour later Sgt LB comes out and says "The Lt wants you to bring rec in early. We have a situation that we have to deal with right now." The crew comes out and helps us get the inmates put back into their cells and we assemble in the sally port. Me, Chuck, Big Mess, KP, Sgt LB and Lt Strong.
Sarge says "This idiot is demanding a phone call and he is holding his cellie hostage until he gets it. Captain says we go in and get him out right now. No time for a movement team. We are the team."
I look around at the crew. Once again, I am the smallest guy. 6', 185. Chuck, 6'1" maybe 190. KP, 6' 220. Sgt LB, 6'1" 250. Big Mess, 6'2" close to 275. And Lt Strong, 5'8" 225 with a bodybuilders physique. Biceps like small bowling balls. I try to remember what that knucklehead in the cell looks like. Maybe 5'4" and about 120 pounds.
Ooooooooo..... this is going to hurt.
We go to the cell and tell him to cuff up. He refuses. Tell his cellie (who is up on the top bunk trying to look very small) to cuff up. Knucklehead tells his cellie "If you get down off that bunk, I'll beat your a**!"
Little dipsnap has soaped his floor, hoping we would slip on it and has pillows strapped to his arms, of all things.
Lt Strong says "Open the door." Showtime.
The door pops open and we go in. KP is first, with Big Mess right behind him. Idiot kid takes a swing at KP and they dogpile him into the back wall. By the time I get in there all I see is a wall of blue and white shirts and black pants. I look down and through a little gap I see a leg wearing inmate gray. Eureka! I grab hold of that sucker and set to pulling on it. Trying my best to make it into a little pretzel.
The kid goes down and he's still fighting. Somebody says "Spray him." I look up through the tangle of arms and legs and bodies. I have no shot. Then I hear it........ "Psssshhhhhht!" Ah... the sound of pepper spray. I love it.
Numbnuts starts immediately screaming. "Aaaaah! I inhaled some of that! I'm dying! Give me a drink of water! Please!" What an idiot. He screams all the way out of the wing, with Big Mess and KP toting him like a cheap suitcase.
Sgt LB, Chuck and I look up at his cellie. He's still huddled in the corner. Chuck says "Get down here." The kid flies off the bunk so fast I thought we might have to go again. He turns around and cuffs up and walks docilely out of the cell and sits calmly on the restraint bench.
I nip over to C-wing and the idiot is still crying "Please uncuff me! Please! Give me some water! Give me a shower! I'm dying! Please uncuff me!" And he's shaking so hard they are having trouble getting the cuffs off.
What a fool. I don't imagine he will be trying that again any time soon.
And of course Captain Crane was the shift supervisor. Mister Kill A Tree For Corrections.
Five hours later we get the paperwork done and get to go home.
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