Croaktown Dept. of Corrections — Cellblock D
Cellblock Dispatch: The Archive
The complete incident log from Cellblock D, in the order it was written down. One entry per occasion the defendant does something worth recording. The defendant keeps the night shift busy.
Defendant requested a second pillow citing 'executive back.' Request reviewed. Defendant does not have a back in the legal sense. Pillow denied.
Visitor turned away at the gate. Claimed to be the defendant's 'better half' and the 'real innocent one.' Wept in the lobby for forty minutes, left a casserole, would not give a name. Casserole logged into evidence. It was, regrettably, very good.
Defendant attempted to barter a contraband cigar to a guard in exchange for 'early parole and a small seat at the table.' No such arrangement exists. Cigar confiscated. Defendant winked. I have written down the wink.
Routine cell sweep recovered a hand-drawn map labeled 'the islands.' Defendant insists it is 'abstract art.' It has a compass rose and a dotted line. Filed under flight risk. Defendant remains, as ever, completely unrepentant.
Where the dotted line leads — the islandsDefendant filed a formal grievance that his mugshot 'is not being merchandised aggressively enough.' Grievance noted. Grievance is not a corrections matter. Defendant asked for it back so he could frame it.
Yard headcount delayed nineteen minutes. Defendant had reorganized the exercise rotation into a 'more efficient schedule' and three blocks were following it instead of mine. The schedule was, infuriatingly, more efficient. We are using the old one out of principle.
Commissary reports a sudden run on stamps, soap, and instant flies. Inquiry traced every transaction back to a single ledger kept under the defendant's mattress. Defendant calls it 'a community service.' The interest rate is not a community service. Ledger photographed, returned, photographed again.
Defendant requested 'a meeting with the warden, frog to frog, no lawyers.' Reason given on the form: 'a business proposal that benefits us both.' Request denied. The warden read it twice before denying it. I watched him read it twice.
Mail screening intercepted a sympathy card addressed to the defendant from 'your loving brother, who forgives you.' Defendant read it once, laughed for a full minute, and asked to have it laminated. Card logged. Lamination denied. The laugh is, regrettably, also logged.
Contraband sweep of cell 14 recovered a working set of dominoes carved from soap, a deck of cards that are all the same card, and a tin cup that pays out. Defendant insists these are 'morale.' Morale is now in the evidence room. Defendant's morale appears entirely undamaged.
Defendant submitted, unprompted, a typed performance review of the night staff. Mine was four pages. It was, in places, generous. I have not read the rest of it. I have read mine. Filed under 'do not encourage.'
Defendant marked his five-hundredth day inside by hosting an unsanctioned banquet in the rec room, catered with commissary stock he did not technically own. Half of Cellblock D attended. So, briefly, did two guards. The casserole from DAY 419 was, against all advice, served. It held up.
This log stays open. The defendant is not going anywhere — not legally — and he has yet to run out of material. New entries get filed the moment he gives us a reason, which is roughly daily. Check back. The dispatch keeps going as long as he does.
Follow the dispatch on XThe lay of the swamp
The Swamp Map
Six ways deeper into the underworld. Pick a door — they all wind back to me eventually. That's how you know whose swamp it is.
- The Rap SheetEvery count they could make stick, and a couple they invented. I did all of it grinning.Read the charges
- The JobsThe heists, worked step by step — the casino, the tongue-press, the pad that never was. Take notes.Case the jobs
- The CrewEvery toad, cricket, and bent cop on the payroll or in my debt. Loyalty runs one direction. Down.Meet the crew
- The Croaktown GazetteThe swamp's fish-wrap of record. They run my name on Page One every week. I never write in.Read the front page
- Frequently Alleged QuestionsThe questions the swamp keeps asking. The answers my lawyer keeps begging me not to give.Ask the frog
- Places of CroaktownEvery recurring address in one gazetteer — the casino, the lockup, the cell, the courthouse-that's-a-casino, and the dotted line offshore.Walk the swamp
Lost? Good — a frog who can't be found can't be served. Every trail on this map is a work of parody; follow at your own risk.
The log stays open
Next Incident Lands on the Feed
Officer Croaksworth writes it down after it happens. PooPee posts it while it's happening. New entries hit the feed first, and Cellblock D is always the last to know. Follow on X and read the dispatch before it's ever logged.
Follow PooPee on X — @getpoopeeNo visiting hours. No wallet. Just the feed. Lights-out does not apply.