'Oi! What are you doing in your cell? It's breakfast time!' yelled the prison guard to the skinny feeble figure sitting in his space. His eyes were closed, as he maintained a steady posture whilst uttering nothing. The prison guard realised his "meditation", so he whacked his baton on the bars of the cell. No response. The only sign he was alive is because of his deep breathing. He could hold it for so long, which astonished the guard.
'I bet he has lungs like an Olympic swimmer,' the guard mumbled under his breath.
'Thanks,' the prisoner replied.
'How did you hear me?'
'You were speaking quite loud actually, I was gonna tell you to be a bit more quiet!'
'How dare you tell me to shut up!'
'No, I was telling you to pipe it down!' The short-tempered guard whacked his baton at the bars viciously, to release his frustration.
'Do you mind? I'm trying to meditate here!' The guard suddenly remembered his voice. The guard desperately fishes into his cargo trousers to find something. A metal jingling sound is heard. Like a fisherman reeling out a megalodon, he pulled out the skeleton key to all the cells. He unlocked the jail cell.
'Shoot me,' he said simply.
'I don't comprehend.'
'I'm telling you to shoot my leg, and escape. I know who you are, MKR sir,' he said with respect out of his fear.
'I can't shoot you, even if you know me.'
The guard shoots his own leg and exclaims in pain. 'Now leave, MKR sir, and never return again!'
'Where should I go?'
'Straight down the row of cells and open that emergency exit door. That'll take you to behind the jail, where you can escape! It was an honour meeting you sir!' He salutes. The man salutes back before walking majestically out of the prison…