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Breakout

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Baddy sat on the concrete floor amidst the cold walls of his prison cell, terribly missing the taste of tobacco on his lips. He had been arrested by Goody on the grounds of … well, everything he did, but mostly because she had planned an ambush at one of the bank robberies perfectly. When he was trying to make his escape, he was surrounded by police helicopters and the patrol birds were chirping on and on about Goody’s victory. Well, this surely put a damper on Baddy’s fun.  

Above all things, Baddy hated boredom and stagnation the most, so the grey walls of the prison cell encompassed everything he hated. He was even wearing that lame orange prison jumpsuit that he only saw in history books. There were no prisons on the moon, only time-out zones when someone was being extra naughty (which no one used, though they were still nice to have.) 

Bored out of his mind, Baddy started whistling songs to himself when suddenly he heard the sound of metal soldering from right above him. The sound of metal on metal, and a boy whining about this not being legal, and the other more feminine voice telling the other to shut up. Baddy beamed from ear to ear, knowing exactly who the two voices were. 

They sawed a circle on the ceiling, big enough for Baddy to leap out of. The two perpetrators peeped to check if they had the right cell only to bump their heads against each other. Sweetheart started spitting curses.

“It’s me,” Baddy announced, triumphantly, “now come and bail me outta here! I’m dying of boredom.”

“Coming right up!” Pocky answered, right before dropping a rope ladder down Baddy’s cell through the hole they sawed through. 

The noises drew a ruckus from the police just outside Baddy’s cell, so they didn’t have much time to dawdle. Baddy quickly snagged his foot over the first step before Pocky and Sweetheart pulled him up together. He landed on his knees, before rushing to return the plate his boys sawed out back into place. 

“Oh, I missed this!” Baddy exclaimed to the breeze that touched his cheeks again. He swooped his Sweetheart by the waist and kissed them hungrily as Pocky covered his eyes with his fingers. After the kiss, Sweetheart lit a cigarette and stuffed it between Baddy’s lips. 

“I know you missed that too,” Sweetheart smirked. They were right, of course.  

Pocky, who made himself the lookout, started yelling about how the police officers were running out with guns and that they were surrounded. Baddy removed the cigarette from his mouth with his fingers, huffing out a swirl of smoke. 

“Don’t you know who I am?” 

He passed the cigarette to his Sweetheart, who took a huff from it as well. Pocky fanned his hand in front of his face in disdain. He can never let himself be caught by Goody again. Oh no, the cute police officer will get her just desserts. 

“I’m Baddy!”