Prisons in the United States of America are some of the hardest environments to be placed in. It’s hard, it’s scary, and it’s tricky to maneuver the system without showing “weakness”. Many folks are unalived in these facilities, especially if you don’t conform to the ideals of what it means to be a “man”. You have to be strong, masculine, and, most importantly, ready to use violence when in a tough situation. 

In a land not too far away is a man named Jasper. Jasper has always struggled, particularly when it comes to making the right decisions. Despite being indicted for murder, he continues to profess it’s not what it looked like. He didn’t mean to kill the cashier blocking his escape with a stolen snack, the gun just slipped and prevented him from not pulling the trigger seven times. A few days after he ran from the convenience store the police were knocking on his mom’s door, asking if Jasper was home. Unfortunately, his mom “Backed the Blue” and was distraught her son would commit such senseless violence over a Twinkie. They ate every morning and night, had water to drink whenever they were thirsty, and a little left over to go watch a movie. But, as Jasper came home from the theatre, he started craving the delicious creme-filled delight. This meant stealing the treat, regardless of who might be put in danger. Jasper was sentenced to 30 years in prison.

Since his conviction four years ago, Jasper has acclimated to this new environment in the best way he could. To his surprise, this new home wasn’t too scary. He befriended other men who were sentenced to hard crimes, avoided favors, and kept his head down. There were the occasional stabbings or tennis competitions, but he never involved himself. As a matter of fact, Jasper mainly spent his time with his closest friend, Markee. 

Markee was in prison for being in possession of drugs, which he claimed were not his. He states a corrupt cop planted them to send him away since he irritated the police with the shenanigans he would act out when high. In the cop’s eyes, he was a danger to society. The cop did him a “favor” by forcing him to reflect on his actions. Fortunately, for him, he did. He sobered up and realized he was causing problems for the “average citizen” in his community. He didn’t think he should have served time, but no one thinks they should serve time. Prison is awful. Did you know cheesecake when locked up contains ramen crumbs and Splenda? Hideous. Nonetheless, Markee was locked up for 50 years for repeat offenses. Plus, that murder of an unhoused who rejected Markee’s offer of a Slim Jim for the now deceased’s Nintendo Switch. 

Markee saw how terrified Jasper was the first day he was sent to the general population and decided to bring him in as a friend. Since then, Markee and Jasper have been inseparable. Yes, most veterans may try to take advantage of those who are desperate for security and safety, but Markee still had morals. He may have been a murderer, but he wouldn’t destroy one’s dignity. Jasper was tentative when they first started interacting because of all of the YouTube videos talking about the violence people perpetuate against newcomers—sexual and physical—but he grew to trust Markee as a genuine friend. 

“Do you want to try making a cheesecake tonight,” asked Jasper between his benching sets.

“Bet,” Markee gently claimed while spotting his friend.

The excitement of consuming a treat not normally given to prisoners was enough to bring weeks of jubilation into Jasper’s life, but there was something about Markee’s smile that made him respond with an even bigger grin. It didn’t matter what they were doing, Jasper always looked forward to spending time with Markee. But, friendships in prison tend to be more serious since you spend every day with each other—watching out for one another.

“Can you spot me? I want to hit a personal best today on my bench press,” stated Jasper.

“Bet. What you aiming for?”

“I was thinking 300,” Jasper excitedly stated. “What about you?

“Oh, I’m good. Just a casual workout.”

Despite their relaxed demeanor, they had to be ready for anything. It’s still prison and some unsavory individuals are looking to manipulate those who are “weak”. For instance, there is the duo strolling up on our beloved protagonists, Tiny Javier and Tiny Raphael. They only ever saw red, were filled with resentment for being locked up, and were envious of anyone taller than five feet since they looked like pale Kevin Harts. But, the Tiny Twosome were also slightly addicted to sugary and flavorful meals, which is why they sought out those with special skills to “assist”  them. Being able to taste a snack primarily from the outside is enough to satisfy a prisoner for weeks, especially since regular prison food is unanimously seen as inedible. But, these incarcerated individuals had to eat these standardized meals. To keep their privileges going, like more yard time or Twilight books in the library, they were forced to consume these unappetizing dishes. When you have a warden who is petrified of another hunger strike, they do their best to keep these convicts somewhat stable, peaceful, and content. After all, the last hunger strike had journalists flocking to the facility, comparing the prisoners to Auschwitz survivors. It didn’t help the warden had a Nazi flag hung up in his personal and locked office. 

“What ya doing little guy,” asked Tiny Javier.

“Yuh trying to outpower us,” questioned Tiny Raphael.

“It wouldn’t take much,” Markee said without looking up from his warm-up set.  

“What did ya say,” Tiny Javier said in anger.

“I’m not repeating myself.” 

“You’re a funny one, Markee. But, not enough to slide that disrespect,” Tiny Raphael said while pumping his chest up. Markee chuckled internally since Tiny Raphael could barely reach his breasts. 

“What are you going to do about it,” questioned the gentle giant named Markee. 

As the three men stared at each other, Jasper decided to put the barbell down but slyly grabbed a ten-pound plate.

“Alright, alright, alright,” hollered a correctional officer; separating the three after another guard nudged him.

As they stared at each other, Markee stood firmly in place, never taking his eyes off of them while the two tiny-statured men stepped back. As they dispersed, Markee went back to spotting Jasper.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Jasper shyly spoke.

“We gotta. Prison isn’t friendly,” Markee said sternly. “They use it as a chance to take advantage. It might cause a fight, but it’s better than being a bitch.”

Jasper just stared at Markee with a smirk rising from his face.

“True. True,” Jasper quietly replied. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

Markee smiled back and Jasper felt a flutter in his chest. Jasper doesn’t understand why his body responds in the way it does whenever Markee defends him, but he doesn’t fight it or find it uncomfortable. Markee’s confidence makes him feel safer, as well as the fact the number of people who are substantially smaller than them doesn’t question their friendship. It didn’t matter if Markee was destroying the communal toilet or annihilating other chess players, Jasper always felt butterflies when around him. Because of this, Jasper’s Joker-like smile would linger a little too long at Markee. 

Although, when it was time to spot Markee, Jasper had to fight the urge to touch him. His chest glistening in sweat and muscles popping from the extreme weight made him envious of his physique. He couldn’t ask his other friends about these feelings since emotions are meant for girls and gays. Without these outlets, though, Jasper was forced to accept these as normal sensations convicts experience in prison since they were always together. Jasper would hover his hands under Markee’s bench press bar, paying attention to his set but fearing what genuine contact would portray to the rest of the yard. 

Jasper wondered why these emotions were appearing since he had never experienced these thrills before. He would catch himself staring at Markee when someone else was talking. He would think about Markee while showering, despite it being a moment most prisoners would normally reminisce about their times with exes. He would even see Markee in the mold growing at the foot of the food hall. Some saw Jesus Harold Christ and created a shrine, but Jasper saw Markee. 

As they finished their workout, Jasper and Markee were shuffled back into the cell blocks. They were identified and strictly counted to ensure no one escaped the outdoor yard. There has only ever been one escape, twenty years ago, but the warden didn’t want to risk it again, so they are forced to spend an hour a day, lined up elbow to elbow, without the possibility of resting their legs. This task actually takes ten minutes but these Rhode Island prison guards, just like most American correctional officers, enjoyed causing any discomfort when they had the chance. Many prisoners tried reporting these forms of abuse to HR but were laughed out of the room for thinking convicts have the same rights as employees. 

Once allowed to spend the rest of their two hours of “indoor freedom”, Markee and Jasper went back to their cell to lie down. While unusual, it isn’t uncommon for people to bunk together and request transfers to be with others they trust. Markee and Jasper finally started bunking together when it was clear their friendship had truly blossomed into the flower it is today. Gangs were big consumers of this exchange, but mainly to control those who knew how to make ramen at a Michelin Star level. The Michelin guide has refused to acknowledge these meals as worthy of their rankings.

“I have enough ingredients to make an Oreo cheesecake or a peanut butter one,” said Jasper. “Which one are you longing for?” 

“Peanut butter for sure,” Markee happily replied.

“Okay! It should be done in five hours.”

As Jasper started mixing the peanut butter, ramen noodle crumbs, sweetener, cheese spread, and instant coffee creamer, Markee stared in astonishment over the other murderer’s ability to take basic ingredients from the commissary and turn it into a treat even the most “wealthy” would crave. By “wealthy”, the two usually think of those who have enough money to avoid prison, but this isn’t a story about class. It’s a story about the bonds people make when forced into isolation, discrimination, and violence. 

“What you going to do to feel truly “free” after your time is up,” asked Markee.

This single question brought intense anxiety to Jasper. Not because he didn’t know what to do or where to go, but because once he’s out, he’ll probably never see Markee again. Yes, it’s unlikely they would ever be functional enough to survive out of prison since their terms end when they are over 50 years old, especially Markee. But, the thought of Jasper being a civilian again without Markee scared him. So much time will have passed and the real world can be terrifying for even the most aloof individual who has never served time. Jasper may be able to adapt but his fear of never being able to replicate these feelings with anyone else, especially an outsider, scares him to his core. 

“I don’t know. I would probably grab a hamburger and watch a Marvel movie,” answered Jasper.

“Marvel movie? Why a Marvel movie?”

“I don’t know. They were… really fun when I was on the outside. Granted, I only saw up until the second Avengers movie, but, apparently, the decade-long plot they were focusing on was… worth the pay-off,” Jasper subtly answered without showing his excitement to Markee.

Markee didn’t say anything. He just smiled and stared at Jasper. A look Jasper couldn’t quite pinpoint but saw when he was around happy couples not in prison. A look showing something more than just interest or lust. Yes, they’ve had private conversations but these past few months have started to stir something in the murderer. Such intense intimacy was starting to impact how he understood Markee. Jasper didn’t see Markee as only a titan of defense, he saw him as a constant force of comfort. Despite human beings lacking the true ability to picture the future, the previous twinkie-addicted murderer would regularly imagine them both having picnics in their grey jumpsuits; attending raves in their grey jumpsuits; and going to church in their grey jumpsuits. 

Remaining collected and silent, they penetrated each other’s souls with their neverending gazes. Then, as smooth as a Ken doll, Markee moved in for a kiss. He didn’t force Jasper, he wasn’t aggressive, and he was gentle enough to not startle him. Jasper, shocked by this action, didn’t know what to do, but, after half a second, he embraced the movement himself. They laid there on the ground, waiting for the cheesecake made from ramen crumbs to solidify, and embraced each other more lovingly than elders trying to swing for the fourteenth time. One single kiss caused his body temperature to rise, sweat, and flush with redness. It didn’t matter this was against prison rules—socially and literally—they just wanted to be with each other. They kissed and it was more magical than a pygmy hippo in Thailand causing the world to become infatuated with her sassiness. 

Pulling away, they smiled and stared at one another with inhumane levels of joy. Being hot, red, and sweaty usually reminded them of drinking their toilet hooch, but they didn’t mind this sober intoxication. This unknowing addiction was the first step in them never being alone. This complete ability to be their true selves only required them to end innocent lives whose only fault in life was existing in destinations near these murderers’ homes. Despite their abhorrent actions, despite the hostility toward homosexual relations in prison, and despite COs wanting to limit happiness, they continued to hold each others’ faces and quietly kissed one another. This single moment reminded them of the vision boards they made when young, they just didn’t know the genders were misplaced. 

But, happiness isn’t forever. Tiny Raphael and Tiny Javier started to block the only doorway out. Each one glaring at these two lovebirds and their sinful tendencies with more malice than a Republican finding out their son is a drag queen. Sure, the duo are barely 5 feet tall, but height doesn’t normally matter when someone has a weapon capable of castration. Staring at the two, Tiny Raphael and Tiny Javier started to vibrate in anger. They were filled with hate because anything feminine was beaten out of them by their fathers, uncles, and grandparents. This resentment only festered after entering the Criminal Recuperation and Affirmation Program in Rhode Island. It also didn’t matter Markee and Jasper were able to lift the two were they attached to a curling bar. These insignificant bullies couldn’t allow this disrespect to continue.

“The fuck you two faggots doing,” angrily asked the 4’10 Tiny Javier.

“Waiting for our cheesecake to rise,” answered Markee without looking away from Jasper’s uniquely green eyes.

“You got jokes, huh,” hollered the 4’9 Tiny Raphael.

“We’re waiting for our cheesecake to rise,” Markee answered again but with a little more force.

They didn’t take the hint. If anything, their animosity grew to such heights Tiny Javier started to grip the object in his prison wallet. As the Tiny Duo stepped forward, Markee gave Jasper another kiss and slowly rose. 

“Whatcha got there, bud,” he sarcastically asked.

“Something ridding the world of filth,” Tiny Javier yelled. But, it was barely a shiv, it looked more like a toothpick you’d use after eating a large piece of beef from Outback Steakhouse. Seeing the “weapon”, Markee laughed, reached into his own prison wallet, and pulled out his modified toothbrush. The large contraption forced the two thugs to stop in their advance since it was the size of their shin bones. Mouths agape, they could only stare at the size difference. But, Markee didn’t. Markee lunged at Tiny Javier, causing a geyser to gush from the taller one’s neck. 

Markee squatted down as Tiny Javier’s neck squeezed his life force out of him in the hope it would stay inside him. But, we can’t always get what we want. Staring at the paralyzed, feral man, Markee calmly spoke, “You could have ignored us. But, your addiction for the ultimate sweet led you here.” Slumped over on the ground, with the light in his eyes slowly draining, Markee gripped Tiny Javier’s short hair, pushed his head to the wall, and kissed his forehead. 

Jasper, while happy about Markee defending them, was worried the guards would punish them. But, as one might expect from corrupt prisons, the guards were gone from their posts. “But, narrator, what about the cameras?” Corrupt prisons benefit the elites of the facility, which means preventing certain folks from ever facing consequences. While the guards leaving their post and “resetting” the supervision equipment was meant to support the Tiny Twosome, the lack of attention benefitted the lovers. 

Tiny Raphael immediately ran away, body flailing down the corridor as if he were a car dealership’s inflatable tube trying to survive. Acting completely oblivious to the scene they resolved, Jasper and Markee fled. Laughing as they walked away, the two quickly gained a new reputation. Some would call them “Gaybos” but most would know them as “Jasper and Markee: The Two Who Would Castrate for Consensual Love.” It’s a long title so most called them Jasper and Markee, especially when they heard moaning around a corner.