Felonious Fiction

The Sheriff’s Deputy shoved the heinous criminal into the crowded cell and barked: “You’re gonna love it here.”

The reeking beasties in the hoosegow chortled and loudly agreed.

“No worse place on earth,” one of the ilk opined.

“And wait’ll you get a load of the music they blare at us night and day,” another offered.

“Worst crap on the planet,” said still another unbathed bullyboy in for bad behavior.

Fresh meat grimaced, expecting Country & Western or truly schmaltzy Broadway musicals.

Instead, he and all the other felons got a mega-blast of a Verdi overture followed by a Vivaldi violin concerto and then a whole lot of Handel, Haydn and boatfuls of Bach and Brahams.

The other inmates covered their ears and cowered in the corners of the cell.

But the new man, the freshest meat on the slab, why he stood stock-still and hummed along for he was a truly cultivated criminal whose only crime was to refuse to fund the eternal-war-machine and the banksters with their hands in the Uncle Sam’s cookie jar with his hard-earned taxes.

He stood to attention and let the glorious music wash his soul clean, and then he gave it all up to God in joyful thanks and praise!