Tales from the Hole: How I learned to mind my own business

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I was on my way to the Black Hole pub one day when I realized I had wandered through a security ward near the mental care facility. I could hear a group of patients behind the wall I was passing shouting “13 … 13 … 13 …” in hushed, but excited tones.

I stopped, looking around, my curiousity getting the better of me, but the wall was too tall to see over. Fortunately, there was a small hole in the wall, from a loosened nut or something. I took my shades off and peered through the hole to see what was going on.

Some asshat poked me in the eye with a stick and as I recoiled all I could hear was the new chant of “14 … 14 … 14!”

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