
Mond

The week starts w/ Madoff naked and tied down to a sandpaper sofa. His movement is completely restricted. He’s given a sub-lethal dose of a super-laxative. So he’s stuck there in the nude w/ his ass like an open fire hydrant spurting brown water. The TV in front of him airs nothing but Ghost Dad on continuous loop. And every 5 minutes a guard flicks him in the ear after whispering, “Your mother never loved you!”
Tuesday
Talk to him out of nowhere in 3rd period English. Tell him he’s “cute” and touch his leg a

Wedn

Place him in the center of a giant, padded maze w/ no solution. It’s pitch black and his only surroundings would be the left over rotting carcasses from a local slaughterhouse and the same insects they used in Temple of Doom, but a lot more of them. If he refused to move or was stationary for >10 seconds, a mild electrical jolt would be administered through the floor. This is exercise day.
Thursday

The next room he is hung upside down and forced to listen to I Saw the Sign, by Ace of Base over and over. Every other minute all the oxygen is removed from the room, effectively suffocating Bernie for 30 seconds. When the air is let back in, it’s a special mixture of stained baby diaper scent and the farts of lactose intolerant inmates drinking Shamrock Shakes. This goes on for 12hrs. His lunch break is a dose of Ipecac that, of course he is fed in the same inverted position, forcing him to puke back into his own mouth continuously.
Frida

At this point, Bernie has been kept hydrated w/ IV fluids but has eaten nothing all wk. Present to him a trough filled w/ the spit-chewed tobacco that all the prisoners have contributed during this time. If he refuses to eat it, feed him via TPN (in his veins) but only after a meticulous plucking of every hair on his body and a liberal application of “Ícy-Hot” to his scrotum each hour.

Each of these is based on real life scenarios I have encountered, and likely explains why this blog exists in the first place.
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