I wanted to make a warm and fuzzy crayola

I wanted to make a warm and fuzzy crayola drawing of two puppies playing tug 'o war with a tube sock. Then the owner smiling. The caption reads, "Fuck the police." If I gave

a rat's ass about this touchy feely art class shit they offer at the penitentiary I guess I should have picked a different title. If I was tryin' to get on the warden's good side

I wouldn't have shivved Mr. Smiley the jailhouse art instructor last week when he suggested I tap into my feminine side for the still life with charcoal pencil assignment. Now that

pissed the warden off something fierce. He brought me into his office for a "one on one". He yelled profanties and I tried to explain art. Stalemate. How could he be so obtuse?

Did he have an obtusometer? I tried to point out to him why it was art. I showed him the nipples. The whole of the bosoms. The swank posterior, a la tail. The warden didn't get it.

It was all well and good until the prisoners formed rival gangs. Surrealists wore mustaches and the Cubists rearranged faces. But the worst were the Abstract Expressionists,

who scattered their victims' remains in no pattern whatsoever, stacking arms and legs randomly or splattering body parts arbitrarily. Soon, Warden Hedgehog grew tired of squabbling

and realised he'd forgotten to take his medication. Warden Hedgehog started to feel ill and decided to sit down and rest his eyes. He never did take his meds and lapsed into a coma

tose lapdance. A video of Warden Hedgehog doing his thang went viral on YouTube and he was suspended from the force indefinitely...and it wasn't even his fault. See what happens?