Carol stumbled from her bedroom, wringing a pair of dirty slippers in her wrinkled hands. “Socks! Socks! I need some!” Carol yelled, then stopped and let her bottom jaw fall, exposing the toothless gumminess of her mouth when she saw the man with the gun in the dayroom.
“Alright loonies, I’m in charge here, now.” Hela’s master held up the tiger striped gun. In his thick arms, the massive barrel seemed almost toy-like. “I want you all to fuck shit up. Fight, throw things, crap on the floor. You’re psychopaths, aren’t you?”
Hela’s master was greeted only with the unison blinking of glazed over eyes. He pointed his gun to the ceiling.
“Move!” he ordered and fired a shot. Flakes of ceiling tile rained down around him.
Markus stood and with his meanest thug face sauntered calmly to the television table, wrapped both arms around the small, black box then lifted it, dropped it, sending it splintering into shards of plastic and glass against the hard floor tiles.
Elena’s eyes lit up like fireworks. Her black hair bounced behind her as she ran to the bookshelf, next to Carol’s bedroom. Elena grabbed handfuls of paperbacks, last month’s tabloids, scribbled-in copies of donated classics and tossed them over her shoulders.
“Yipeee! This is fun! I like the man with the gun!” she cheered and heaved a dictionary behind her with both hands. It bounced off Carol’s nappy, gray head with a smack.
“Hey, you watch it you Chinaman!” Carol barked and threw her dirty slippers at Elena, who chucked more books at Carol in response.
At the counter, Nurse Jean fumbled with the keys on the phone.
“Hands up, hag!” Hela’s master pointed the desert eagle at Jean. She raised her plump arms. Her lips began to tremble. Behind her, an office door opened. Two heads peeked out, blonde ones. It was Dr. Littleboy and psychologist Kelly.
“Hey, how ‘bout you two stay in there.” Master said with a leer. The office door shut. Master surveyed the dayroom. Elena was still throwing books. Markus picked up the VCR and held it above his head. Fergus kicked over a garbage can. Used tissues and papers spilled out of it like a cornucopia.
Master noticed Alicia watching the whole scene, too. Cackling and slapping her thigh. “Oh and you, baldy. " he said to her. "Go stand by the door.”
Alicia stopped laughing and widened her eyes, the colorless one gleaming white like a hard-boiled egg. She said nothing and ran down the hall, through the eating area, to the door where she stood by Hela.
Master stepped behind the nurses counter, said to the now weeping Jean, “Sorry doll, would love to stay and raid your pill box.” He pressed the buzzer, then started for the door, where two girls, one soft and pale, the other dark and buff bounced up and down in a victory dance at the sight of his baseball cap and gun.
