More and more people were finding themselves in the big house. By people I mean your everyday criminals, and by big house I mean that mother fucker of a place you spent time when something went wrong. Maybe you took a shot at the wrong time, or picked the wrong pocket, or tried robbing the wrong joint. It didn't matter really, cause fuck jail, cause time was money.

What started as simply a way to offset the overcrowded jail houses, turned into something unimaginable. The country's county and city jails had created a 'space' for inmates who they deemed too unruly for the general population, Attica Correctional Facility in New York. What nut job came up with the idea the God's only know, and it was ultimately what lead to the single biggest prison riot in the history of the united states.

People wanted out more than they wanted in. Why? Well these were the type of criminals who made the rules, and didn't care too much for playing by someone else's. Simply, people wanted out so they could continue their life of depravity and violence, and as the days wore on with this country wide experiment the inmates got more and more rowdy..

"We want women!"

The prisoners cheered in support, as they gathered together in the main mess hall. Guards started packing in, slowly at first then more and more as the crowd got more and more lovely, vocal and assertive.

"We want tits, but we also want to take proper shits!" another bellowed out.

'Yeaaaaaaaaaaaa' the collective cheered along in unison, and now started banging tables and chairs, picking up anything they could find to use as instruments to drum their beat of freedom on any surface they could find.

"We want a proper fuckn meal you cheap fucks!" Axel shouted in support whilst waving his fist in the air.

A warden came forward from within the group of guards. The authority, as they liked to call him. He held a sway over the prisoners through intimidation and ruthless action. He was a prickly prick with an ego unmatched. He smiled and started a slow clap, as the inmates simmered down.

The authority's reputation was fierce, and many standing in defiance had been at the brutal end of a baton or two, his way of showing his undying unquenched affection. He hated not being in control, and would do anything to have that sense of power over those in his jail. And it was always his jail.

"Wow, you guys, just wow." he boomed put into the mass of unhappy tenants, still slow clapping.

"All this for little old me? Why, you shouldn't have." he continued, then pulled out a steel baton from his holster.

As all guards did, they carried what they deemed necessary to keep order. Sometimes that meant physical force, other times smokes and the like to use as leverage. Now though, it was all about keeping order.

"No, really. Who the FUCK said you could ruin my birthday? I should clarify, it's not actually really my birthday today, but right now this disturbance is gonna make a real nice present when I beat the living PISS out of each and everyone of you!" 

The baton was now pointing at the crowd of criminals and alleged innocents, moving slowly from right to left.

"If ya'll don't simmer the FUCK down-.."

Suddenly another voice from the crowd arched up in defiance, cutting off the egotistical maniac mid rant..

Mario observes from the lunch tables, thinking that he is not convinced of risking his life for an foolish plan of such riot. He only has one year left and damn he is not willing to risk it it's his last year. My freinds sit with me and he lets out an shirt laugh, before continuing my meal. It’s okay they will either get there asses beaten down or end up in the hole. 

I continue to eat my bread and finish. As I get up the rest of my freinds get up at the same time. Its one of the guys throws away my meal, he turns around and walks over to the starter of this. I order my men with an arm gesture and they surround some rat who sold me out lat night to the guards. They took my shank because of you and now it’s punishment time get him. The man looks in horror as he is punched and kicked till he falls to the ground. I pull the guy down the hall and nobody see’s since the guards are occupied. I close the door and tell the guard to fuck off. The guard quickly scampers off and I continue. 

Get up you sorry motherfucker and fight like a man. The bloody face of the man looks up at me and then back down to the ground. Fine be like that and I drive my foot into his stomach as he slumps to the side in pain. This guy is so fucking pathetic look at him, his Mom would be so ashamed of him. He is not worth our time kill him and let’s move on already.  He closes the door normally beheind him and is intrigued with the riot. But he continues to not want any part of this madness. 

"You can't take on all of us!" piped up an inmate, cutting off the egotistical maniac.

Fed up with his shitty sentence and oppressive conditions, the rowdy and very much pissed off inmate launches a steel cup at a prison guard. It barely misses his head, the clunk sound leaving a ringing noise in his ear as it smashed into the wall right next to his right cheek.

With the show of aggression, the crowd gets more confident. More things begin being thrown at various guards around the facility, like missiles being launched, one by one at their intended targets, with a ton of pissed off aggression behind them.

The energy is heating up, not yet boiling point, yet enough for the guards to all pull out their batons as they stand at the ready. Some swing and try hit the projectiles back, like a game of baseball, and others just stand their ground waiting for orders to advance or a sign of a need to advance in defence.

The authority was beginning to get really peeved, not liking not being in power at all. He gripped the baton tight with both hands, watching from an elevated position down at the guards as the ruckus continued to heat up and bigger objects began being thrown.