Orville Pflugradt, nicknamed Flu, because it sounded like part of his name, and Wolf, due to his facial hair and hair style, is my favorite inmate. There it is, I said it. Why would I make a big deal out of an inmate being my favorite? The staff is definitely not supposed to show any favoritism in any way. I have no intention of doing anything special for him. I would not hang out with him on the free-side, if he ever gets there. Wolf is simply the most entertaining human being it has ever been my pleasure to encounter.
I am not sure the name, Wolf, would have been my choice for his moniker. The slicked back appearance and length of his hair makes him look more like a character from
The Planet of the Apes. Orville is 37 years old, and has about 40 more years to serve for the murder of an extended family member. He is not a lifer, but his parole officer probably has not even been conceived yet. Then why would he be my favorite? The reason he is my favorite is simple. Flu provides the most material. When I am on the outside, I talk about the inside. Nine times out of 10 Flu has provided my story. Flu makes me laugh. He creates vocabulary without knowing he is. He makes me wet myself with laughter.
Flu grew up with a troubled childhood. He was raised in a dog cage with his brother. His brother was severely retarded to the point that he actually began barking, believing that he was a dog. Flu would joke a bit about it in the future, claiming, “I didn’t realize I could bite people above the knee until I was 12-years old.” He attended Atkison-West Holt High School for most of his freshman year before calling it quits. Flu is not book smart, and his IQ would not convince you that he knew much of anything. Having spent the last 15 years in prison, Flu has learned one of the more important things in life…how to survive.
Flu has worn out most of the staff with his constant rants about other people and his paranoia. He spends a great deal of time around the offices because he is the lead painter for the housing unit. Flu is allowed to come and go pretty much as he pleases in order to pick up painting supplies, and he is allowed to work on any gallery in the unit. He always wants somebody to talk to, but then he chases them away with his repetitive stories about why he got transferred from the Lincoln Correctional Center to the Nebraska State Penitentiary.
Apparently, Flu convinced a couple of female guards to have sex with him. By looking at him, nobody would believe it, but the proof is in his file. It was not as if the female guards in question were terribly attractive. In fact, he was frequently asked, “Why would you fuck those nasty bitches?”
Flu would reply with, “For the same reason people in parts of Western Nebraska listen to AM radio. There isn’t anything else available.”
I am probably the only person left with the patience he requires, and my patience is based on my need for his distracting humor. He was the unit painter, and is also probably one of the few people in the world who knows the difference between the colors, Time for Teal and Turquoise Trick.
“Hey Count. What’s the matter? I’m pulling a bad bribe off you.”
“Nothing Flu, I’m just hung-over.” “That’s not very a…fessional.”
“Well, it’s me today, take it or leave it.”
“Hey, I can drop this whole conversation, but I’ll drop it towards you.”
“That’s a veiled threat.” “Huh?”
“Do what you gotta do, Flu.”
“Well, have you got time to a…listen to me?”
“Yah, it’s Sunday morning, I have time.”
“Are you sure? I seen you have a book there. That’s a good book.”
“Oh yeah, I haven’t read it yet. What’s it about?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet either, not enough pictures. I think prison is fuckin’ me up. Last night on second shift, I tried to talk to that other woman caseworker… I’m interfering to Caseworker Haverkamp. I’m not a stalker, but her skin was milk as cream. She makes the cream of my crop go up. I was trying to tell her something from the mental health a…people, and she kept talking to other a-people. I was just delaying a message…”
“You fuckin’ got that right.”
“…and she didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to tell her that mental health ran me through a whole gamble of tests. She was making me so angry, and my anger is a whole nuther force. She made me want to hurt somebody, but I got nothin’ to hurt ‘em with.”
“You got a can of paint…?”
“I ain’t losing my job with a can of paint. I got sponsibilities. Its okay though. I can rebilitate myself. I’m fisticated. My concern is…it will never be azolved.”
“What won’t be resolved?”
“My a…problems with her. It won’t go away until we have a grationable conversation.”
“Flu, you need to respect her feelings toward you, even if you don’t like them.”
“I don’t think anybody likes me; in fact, I think you all a…hate me.”
“Flu, I don’t hate you.” “Pinion Berries.” “Nobody hates you.”
“I’ll just take ‘em in stripes. You people underestimate me. You forget, I am the master nipulater. Hey, a…Batiste, I got another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Do I have affluence on people?” “Why do you ask?”
“This a…guy on my a…gallery, he’s been fuckin’ with me.”
“Who?”
“Uh, that’s not important. I just want you to know, if it comes to an arms race, I’m gonna blast him. I’m so angry my insides are shaking. I want to tear his heart out of his lungs! I want to choke the daylight-dogshit out of him! I’m not likeable to react though.”
“What did he do?”
“He was making fun of me. He didn’t think I heard him, but I did. I have really good hearing, like a dog, it’s 20/20. He’s lucky I’m a nice guy…I think I’m a pretty nice guy.”
“I believe that you think that.”
“Well, I’m gonna get back to my painting…uh, after doors. There is not much you can get started and finish in a day.”
“You can smirk, cause you ain’t got it. Don’t hate yourself. I know you find my virility repulsive, but this animal magnetism is crazy. You can’t resist. It’s a chromosomal thing. I must have an extra.”
“I think you are giving me a taste of how women view me when they have had enough of my bullshit. What a revelation. Thank you.”
I am not sure the name, Wolf, would have been my choice for his moniker. The slicked back appearance and length of his hair makes him look more like a character from
The Planet of the Apes. Orville is 37 years old, and has about 40 more years to serve for the murder of an extended family member. He is not a lifer, but his parole officer probably has not even been conceived yet. Then why would he be my favorite? The reason he is my favorite is simple. Flu provides the most material. When I am on the outside, I talk about the inside. Nine times out of 10 Flu has provided my story. Flu makes me laugh. He creates vocabulary without knowing he is. He makes me wet myself with laughter.
Flu grew up with a troubled childhood. He was raised in a dog cage with his brother. His brother was severely retarded to the point that he actually began barking, believing that he was a dog. Flu would joke a bit about it in the future, claiming, “I didn’t realize I could bite people above the knee until I was 12-years old.” He attended Atkison-West Holt High School for most of his freshman year before calling it quits. Flu is not book smart, and his IQ would not convince you that he knew much of anything. Having spent the last 15 years in prison, Flu has learned one of the more important things in life…how to survive.
Flu has worn out most of the staff with his constant rants about other people and his paranoia. He spends a great deal of time around the offices because he is the lead painter for the housing unit. Flu is allowed to come and go pretty much as he pleases in order to pick up painting supplies, and he is allowed to work on any gallery in the unit. He always wants somebody to talk to, but then he chases them away with his repetitive stories about why he got transferred from the Lincoln Correctional Center to the Nebraska State Penitentiary.
Apparently, Flu convinced a couple of female guards to have sex with him. By looking at him, nobody would believe it, but the proof is in his file. It was not as if the female guards in question were terribly attractive. In fact, he was frequently asked, “Why would you fuck those nasty bitches?”
Flu would reply with, “For the same reason people in parts of Western Nebraska listen to AM radio. There isn’t anything else available.”
I am probably the only person left with the patience he requires, and my patience is based on my need for his distracting humor. He was the unit painter, and is also probably one of the few people in the world who knows the difference between the colors, Time for Teal and Turquoise Trick.
“Hey Count. What’s the matter? I’m pulling a bad bribe off you.”
“Nothing Flu, I’m just hung-over.” “That’s not very a…fessional.”
“Well, it’s me today, take it or leave it.”
“Hey, I can drop this whole conversation, but I’ll drop it towards you.”
“That’s a veiled threat.” “Huh?”
“Do what you gotta do, Flu.”
“Well, have you got time to a…listen to me?”
“Yah, it’s Sunday morning, I have time.”
“Are you sure? I seen you have a book there. That’s a good book.”
“Oh yeah, I haven’t read it yet. What’s it about?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet either, not enough pictures. I think prison is fuckin’ me up. Last night on second shift, I tried to talk to that other woman caseworker… I’m interfering to Caseworker Haverkamp. I’m not a stalker, but her skin was milk as cream. She makes the cream of my crop go up. I was trying to tell her something from the mental health a…people, and she kept talking to other a-people. I was just delaying a message…”
“You fuckin’ got that right.”
“…and she didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to tell her that mental health ran me through a whole gamble of tests. She was making me so angry, and my anger is a whole nuther force. She made me want to hurt somebody, but I got nothin’ to hurt ‘em with.”
“You got a can of paint…?”
“I ain’t losing my job with a can of paint. I got sponsibilities. Its okay though. I can rebilitate myself. I’m fisticated. My concern is…it will never be azolved.”
“What won’t be resolved?”
“My a…problems with her. It won’t go away until we have a grationable conversation.”
“Flu, you need to respect her feelings toward you, even if you don’t like them.”
“I don’t think anybody likes me; in fact, I think you all a…hate me.”
“Flu, I don’t hate you.” “Pinion Berries.” “Nobody hates you.”
“I’ll just take ‘em in stripes. You people underestimate me. You forget, I am the master nipulater. Hey, a…Batiste, I got another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Do I have affluence on people?” “Why do you ask?”
“This a…guy on my a…gallery, he’s been fuckin’ with me.”
“Who?”
“Uh, that’s not important. I just want you to know, if it comes to an arms race, I’m gonna blast him. I’m so angry my insides are shaking. I want to tear his heart out of his lungs! I want to choke the daylight-dogshit out of him! I’m not likeable to react though.”
“What did he do?”
“He was making fun of me. He didn’t think I heard him, but I did. I have really good hearing, like a dog, it’s 20/20. He’s lucky I’m a nice guy…I think I’m a pretty nice guy.”
“I believe that you think that.”
“Well, I’m gonna get back to my painting…uh, after doors. There is not much you can get started and finish in a day.”
“You can smirk, cause you ain’t got it. Don’t hate yourself. I know you find my virility repulsive, but this animal magnetism is crazy. You can’t resist. It’s a chromosomal thing. I must have an extra.”
“I think you are giving me a taste of how women view me when they have had enough of my bullshit. What a revelation. Thank you.”
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