"Unlike you, a bully- I'm a s u g a r pie

"Unlike you, a bully- I'm a s u g a r pie h o n e y bunch."

The bully looked confused. He didn't know what was going on but he was sure he didn't like it. His fist started moving before he even knew it was wanted. Sugarpie Honeybunch ducked

The bully's fist increased momentem as it missed it's intended target and met with the resilience of a brick wall. Sugarpie Honeybunch decided this would be a good time to vamoose.

Sugarpie kicked off her impractical pink cha-cha heels and gritted her teeth as she fled down the alley from the brute, who was waiting over his broken fist. This was her only

chance to escape these thugs, and her shoes were only slowing her down. Turning around the corner, Sugarpie managed to get lost in the crowd.

Sugarpie weaved through the crowd until she came across a small sand which shop tucked into an alleyway. She quickly went inside and sat down at a booth, pulling a menu up to hide

her silver eyelashes. Those eyelashes were a giveaway-- if she was seen on the streets (or anywhere) with her eyelashes in their full glory, she could well expect to be punished by

the Spectacle Squad, who would give her forty eyelashings and banish her to an asylum, where only other people with weird-colored eyelashes were sent to stare blankly at the wall.

We watched the security footage on a hidden camera. After 37 hours, the occupants simultaneously turned to stare into the camera, unblinking, until it was time to be fed. They had

been institutionalized, living only to eat and emit. Or so we thought. The “emit” part was a problem. At feedings we endured storms of thrown shit, so we slid food under the door.