Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Guy ❯ Chapter 3
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: IMIAST 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.06.2008 | Updated On: 09.12.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 793 | Visits: 216 | Status: Completed
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.06.2008 | Updated On: 09.12.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 793 | Visits: 216 | Status: Completed
John was taken from the Ministry of Freedom on an hour-long ride to his new home, a prison run by the Ministry of Bad Guy Supervision. His Advocate had spit on him and walked away the moment his fate was announced, and he was still trying to get over that. They finally reached the prison.
"You, Bad Guy!" said the pilot. "Get the hell out!"
The other man grabbed John and threw him out of the shuttle. John just barely avoided landing face-first on the pavement. He didn't have a bag with him; all his possessions were now Imperial property, and would be sold off to "decent citizens".
"Get in here!" yelled a voice from inside the prison.
John got up and entered the building. There he found a group of Males who no doubt had been similarly manhandled. One was even nursing a black eye.
"Eyes forward, Bad Guys!" said a Male who was walking in. "I am your Supervisor, Samuel Jones, but you will refer to me as 'Supervisor' or 'sir'. If you want to survive here, you'd best not make me hate you any more than I already do. As far as you are concerned, every moment you continue living is a privelege. Any of you causes trouble, and I won't hesitate to Colalt-60 your worthless ass. Do you understand me?"
The other Males hesitated.
"I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" It was clear Jones wanted an answer.
"Yes, sir!" the new Bad Guys replied.
"Hesitate like that again, and there WILL be punishment! Now that you know who's in charge, let me tell you the facts of life around here. As you may already have been told, you are NOT Imperial citizens, and thus will not be treated as such. A citizen is not obligated to respect your rights since, well, you have none. Obviously, your days of participating in our political system are over. The Ministry of Bad Guy Supervision is your government, and you are accountable to us, NOT vice versa! From time to time, a citizen may wish to 'have fun' with you. If you don't like it, that's TOO DAMN BAD." Jones took a moment to catch his breath. "Report to the dining hall. It's time for dinner and, as a special treat, this time we didn't fish it out of the trash."
It was during dinner that the Bad Guys got there new names; since their citizenship was revoked, their old names no longer had any legal standing. Jones was lazy, so he gave his group rather simple names. There were Ugly, Stupid, Underpants, Vomit, Neutron, and Anthropod. Either Jones was kidding around, or this was just another way of "punishing" them. Since John had once been a captain of an Imperial warship, his new name was Failboat.
"I hoped you enjoyed your dinner," said Jones, "because you will NEVER eat that well again! Some of my staff are now handing out pencils and pieces of paper. I want each of you to write a letter to the Emperor apologizing for wasting his people's food on a useless burden such as yourselves. Any of you who fails to comply will face death by Cobalt-60 exposure. As soon as you're done, Underpants and Failboat will collect the papers and bring them to my office."
Jones continued to stand there for a moment.
"What is wrong with you?" he said. "When I give you an order, YOU WILL ACKNOWLEDGE IT!"
"Yes, sir!" they all replied.
Jones could detect a resentful tone in their voices, but he figured he'd be able to break them. If not, then at least he'd get to watch them die painfully. Either way, he'd win.
Once the letters were finished, John brought them to Jones.
"Neutron's letter is unacceptable," said Jones. "He clearly wasn't sincere about it."
Half an hour later, Neutron was strung to a post, then stoned by his fellow Bad Guys. They didn't want to go along with it, but if they hadn't the whole group would've been killed. Besides, they realized Neutron had actually gotten off easy, all things considered.
Finally, it was lights out. John grabbed an old blanket, no doubt infested with bedbugs, and lay down on the floor. One could hardly blame him for not looking forward to the next day.
"You, Bad Guy!" said the pilot. "Get the hell out!"
The other man grabbed John and threw him out of the shuttle. John just barely avoided landing face-first on the pavement. He didn't have a bag with him; all his possessions were now Imperial property, and would be sold off to "decent citizens".
"Get in here!" yelled a voice from inside the prison.
John got up and entered the building. There he found a group of Males who no doubt had been similarly manhandled. One was even nursing a black eye.
"Eyes forward, Bad Guys!" said a Male who was walking in. "I am your Supervisor, Samuel Jones, but you will refer to me as 'Supervisor' or 'sir'. If you want to survive here, you'd best not make me hate you any more than I already do. As far as you are concerned, every moment you continue living is a privelege. Any of you causes trouble, and I won't hesitate to Colalt-60 your worthless ass. Do you understand me?"
The other Males hesitated.
"I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" It was clear Jones wanted an answer.
"Yes, sir!" the new Bad Guys replied.
"Hesitate like that again, and there WILL be punishment! Now that you know who's in charge, let me tell you the facts of life around here. As you may already have been told, you are NOT Imperial citizens, and thus will not be treated as such. A citizen is not obligated to respect your rights since, well, you have none. Obviously, your days of participating in our political system are over. The Ministry of Bad Guy Supervision is your government, and you are accountable to us, NOT vice versa! From time to time, a citizen may wish to 'have fun' with you. If you don't like it, that's TOO DAMN BAD." Jones took a moment to catch his breath. "Report to the dining hall. It's time for dinner and, as a special treat, this time we didn't fish it out of the trash."
It was during dinner that the Bad Guys got there new names; since their citizenship was revoked, their old names no longer had any legal standing. Jones was lazy, so he gave his group rather simple names. There were Ugly, Stupid, Underpants, Vomit, Neutron, and Anthropod. Either Jones was kidding around, or this was just another way of "punishing" them. Since John had once been a captain of an Imperial warship, his new name was Failboat.
"I hoped you enjoyed your dinner," said Jones, "because you will NEVER eat that well again! Some of my staff are now handing out pencils and pieces of paper. I want each of you to write a letter to the Emperor apologizing for wasting his people's food on a useless burden such as yourselves. Any of you who fails to comply will face death by Cobalt-60 exposure. As soon as you're done, Underpants and Failboat will collect the papers and bring them to my office."
Jones continued to stand there for a moment.
"What is wrong with you?" he said. "When I give you an order, YOU WILL ACKNOWLEDGE IT!"
"Yes, sir!" they all replied.
Jones could detect a resentful tone in their voices, but he figured he'd be able to break them. If not, then at least he'd get to watch them die painfully. Either way, he'd win.
Once the letters were finished, John brought them to Jones.
"Neutron's letter is unacceptable," said Jones. "He clearly wasn't sincere about it."
Half an hour later, Neutron was strung to a post, then stoned by his fellow Bad Guys. They didn't want to go along with it, but if they hadn't the whole group would've been killed. Besides, they realized Neutron had actually gotten off easy, all things considered.
Finally, it was lights out. John grabbed an old blanket, no doubt infested with bedbugs, and lay down on the floor. One could hardly blame him for not looking forward to the next day.