76. Grapes of Wrath

For dinner, they served some kind of vegetable thing. Well, I thought it was vegetable. Burbank’s pretty sure it was some kind of meat. Pork, probably, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it one of those skinheads. For dessert—they serve dessert in prison!—they served a little cup of grape cobbler. I got so angry, I chucked the bowl back at the guard, spilling green goo all over him. He hit me with his truncheon.