Old School Justice

My approach to settling scores within the concrete jungle was, shall we say, ‘old school.’ None of this modern-day nonsense where you can just tweet your grievances or file a formal complaint. Nah, this was about digging, about sussing out the truth, about understanding the whole damn story before dropping the hammer. You see, the prison system, it’s a petri dish of deceit. People lie like they breathe, and often, their lies are designed to line their pockets or get someone else in more trouble than they deserve.

There was this one bloke, a real slippery character. He’d spun a yarn about some bloke owing him a fortune, not just in prison currency, but in the outside world too. Said this other guy had promised him a car, some jewellery, the whole nine yards. But as I started digging, asking around, a different picture began to emerge. Turns out, this ‘victim’ was the one doing the conning. He’d manipulated the situation, trying to leverage something he’d never truly earned, all while painting himself as the wronged party. He wanted to take the other guy’s property, his cash, anything he could get his grubby hands on. It was a classic case of a con artist trying to pull a fast one, and I, with my newfound respect and connections, was in a prime position to uncover it.

When I confronted him with the facts, the truth of his fabricated story, his face fell faster than a poorly baked soufflé. He stammered, he blustered, but the game was up. The ‘victim’ was actually the perpetrator, and the intended ‘victim’ was just trying to survive his machinations. So, what do you do with someone like that? You can’t exactly send them to the governor for a stern talking-to. This is where the ‘hardcore justice’ came into play. It wasn’t about inflicting pain for pain’s sake, not entirely. It was about a brutal, unforgettable lesson. It was about ensuring that these kinds of parasitic individuals never got the chance to exploit someone else again.