In Prison for Writing Satire

I was thrown into a prison cell, with cuffs around my hands and toes. I kept screaming that writing satire was not a crime, but the police were having none of it.

... "You should know better than that said Mike as he understood him but rules are rules. It's only going to get worse too as the next rule they are changing is....

the 3-second rule. It’s becoming the 3-minute rule next month.” I shook my head and said “that’s a custom, though. It’s not legally binding.”

Still, though, might as well get used to the new regime. I scraped what remained of the chili dog off the floor and into my tray. "Looks great," I said through clenched teeth. "Mmmmmmm."

For it was on this day that I knew that we would no longer be plagued with wastes and pestilence. With the new rule we would never waste food again. Just then a bunch of obese people came in and yelled “foood fiight!” Later that evening we were all forced to lick the floor clean.