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I attended a meeting. A couple guys in their twenties wondered
in. They got into a half-hearted wrestling scrap. Young men
frequently test themselves with such rivalries. These two weren't
doing much harm to one another or to anyone else.
But this was Frackville, the trembling village of pussies. A prison guard dropped by the meeting room. "Break it up," he muttered. "I really, really mean it; break it up." He didn't deign to actually interfere. As I said, this was Frackville, the village of pussies. A member of the recreation staff came in. While enjoying the entertainment, he muttered, "Break it up. I really, really mean it; break it up." He didn't deign to actually interfere. At least he got close to the combat. He didn't seem afraid. The wrestling scrap continued. Now the contenders were in a helpless tangle in the corner. They were tired. They were reduced to embracing like exhausted lovers. Another member of the staff wondered in attracted by the commotion. He may have been a teacher. "Break it up," he muttered. "I really, really mean it; break it up." He didn't deign to actually interfere. He kept his distance. The newcomer telephoned for reinforcements. Three members of the staff weren't enough to break-up a wrestling match. It was unnecessary. The guard had already radioed. He characterized the scrap as a "fight." Not to fear, fellows, help was on its way. Fourteen guards stormed in ... fourteen! I counted them. That's in addition to the three members of staff already there. Besides the overweight Keystone COps, there were two sergeants, a lieutenant and a captain. With a great show of excessive brutality and cowardice, the platoon literally fell on the wrestlers. Musical instruments went sailing. Furniture flew. It was a comical Chaplin film farce. Fourteen buffoons piled atop the two weary wrestlers. "Cuff-up! Cuff-up!" one of the genus guards commanded his captives. Over a ton of guard-gut was pinning the wrestlers immobile. Cuff-up? The guys couldn't breath! They were just glad that someone was finally ending their struggle. With very great excessive force and brutality the panting, gasping, grunting platoon finally manhandled the contenders to their feet. Fourteen Frackville prison guards had proven that. they could break up two wrestlers. They must have been very proud. The greatest harm done was that, in belly-flopping onto the immobile prisoners, one of the guards had lost his cap. My heart went out to him, poor dear! You are welcome to use or republish
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