I told Jack that I have guilt inside me of using his body as an evil warding off dick—stick, I mean stick, but I chose the wrong words for that, so Jack, like the sweet little degenerate he was, said:

"Show me the dump truck, pal. I got some heavy garbage too."

But I didn't have the time to retort like a pregnant hyena or show him the dump truck. Of course I wouldn't have shown him that even if I had the time.

My right foot was on fire and I was seeing the end of the corridor a few steps ahead of me. It was my ray of hope. Like I was a virgin cameraman and it was my joining letter from porn industry.

I hopped on my left leg continuously like a professional double penetrated actress and used Jack's dead body with no remorse, especially after he expressed his wish to dump his garbage in me.

No guards reached near me and Jack's dead body was on fire like a dead body being cremated. Ironic, right?

His head and legs were burning and his chest was already burning from the start.

I hit each guard with his body like how an inspector's wife sleeps with each guard to see who has the most experience with handcuffs and I was getting the hang of it now.

But of course, Jack was still beside me.

"Why are you hitting even when the guards aren't close to you?!" He roared. "You are just enjoying using my body now!"

"That's what she said."

"No. She didn't said that! She was unconscious while I was doing her."

"What?"

"Kidding. If I had got to do her or anyone, I wouldn't be in prison in the first place."

"So even in anger you can joke. Nice."

I liked this quality. For me too, jokes should never stop. Comedy heals all like one good video with all the right genres explored.

"Watch out!" I shouted and Jack flinched.

I waved his dead body around and it passed through him, hitting the guard that tried to come near me.

And then, I smiled at Jack.

"Cool, right?"

Jack's eyes widened.

"The audacity to smile at me while destroying my body! And how dare you swing my own body right through me? Have some shame! Have some courtesy. Have some—"

Another guard came.

I swung Jack's body once more like I swing kids… at parks.

The guard got hit by Jack's legs and I liked hitting these guards.

Jack saw that too.

"You fucker! Stop doing tha—"

He stopped mid-rant.

Why?

I looked at him and his wide eyes gawked at the guard whom I had just kicked with Jack's dead body.

I followed his gaze and when I saw the guard, I frowned.

The guard was holding something with both of his hands like a petite girl holding a BBC. That thing was on fire but I managed to make out what it was.

And when I did, my lips twitched.

I slowly turned my head at Jack like an underrated serial killer and chuckled:

"Haha. That thing looks just like a prosthetic leg, Jack."

Jack gritted his teeth.

"Because it is a prosthetic leg, motherfucker!"

"Haha. So one of the guards has a prosthetic leg too just like you. What a coincidence."

Jack's eyes darkened.

"That's not a prosthetic leg just like me," He spoke and I covered my ears because…

"THAT'S MY PROSTHETIC LEG FOR REAL!"

Jack broke the bounds of yelling. I am sure that must have reached heaven and interrupted God while he was listening to Japanese ASMR with noise cancelling earphones on.

But I don't blame Jack.

He lost his leg.

The guard must have caught it when I kicked him with it.

Jack's dead body now had only one leg and he surely was shaken by that. Pun intended.

"You bastard!" He came just in front of my face. If he wasn't a ghost, his spit would have given me a bukkake.

I saw pure rage in his eyes. This was serious. Yes. This was. But there was a problem too…

I just can't find myself getting serious about him going all anime Mc angry mode just over a prosthetic leg! What the fuck kind of priorities does he have?

"You told me you won't use my body, but you did." He said, coming closer.

"You said you won't let my body burn, but you did." His nose overlapped my nose.

"You said you won't harm my leg, but you did that too." Now his whole face overlapped mine.

"Now," He spoke, his voice carried depth like a prostitute's vagina and I was rooted on the stop, not hopping further. "Now you will do what I said! Now you will lend me a hand!"

Shit.

"No. I won't do it. Can't you see that your body helped me? You always talk about humanity. You should be happy your body helped someone in need."

"Fcuk humanity!" Jack barked. "I only care about jerking off while standing. Lend me a hand right now."

"My foot is literally on fire right now, you nanny fukcer!"

"I don't care." Jack moved back. His face wasn't overlapping mine anymore. But he was still close to me.

"Lend me a hand or I will shout your location to everyone like a data stealing digital map wherever you run from here."

This bish.

I was worried about this and he exactly threatened me like that.

That's why I was against using his leg. I have to do something now.

This is not the fiction-writers mean by keeping the stakes high during the story.

"Look, Jack. I am sorry for doing all that with your body but I promise, if I get out of this prison, the first thing I'll do is to give you a leg. The same kind of leg as before. Just calm down and cooperate with me in this."

"No! You broke your promise before. You will do it again. And how the hell will you even make a leg? Do you even know anything about anatomy?"

"I know anatomy, alright. I have slept with a skeleton once."

"What? Why? And why only once?"

"Because I was banned from entering the biology class after that. But that's not important. I know everything. I will make you a leg. I promise this on my life, on my grandmoth—no, on my aunt's life."

Whew. Dodged a bullet there. I don't want my grandma to pop off just because of a promise made for a leg.

Jack heard me and he went silent.

I hope he doesn't question why I suddenly choose my aunt instead of my grandma.

He stared at me and my left foot was numb like an hentai protagonist's meat as I handled my body weight for all this time with it.

But eventually, Jack spoke:

"Fine. I believe you. I want my leg just after you escape this prison. The maximum limit is one week after you are out."

I beamed. "Thanks. I will do it even before one week. Now can I carry on moving?"

Jack nodded. "Yes. You can."

I didn't wait for anything and started hopping again.

The end of the corridor was near.

Just one more step and I would reach it.

"But, pal," Jack spoke from behind. I didn't stop hopping. "You still deserve punishment. So don't hate me for that."

Huh?

What does he mean?

Fcuk it. He will probably punish me after I escape from here. Considering his tastes, he would use whips and all.

I will think about it later.

I hopped one more step and the alley was just in front of me.

One more step, and this corridor would be over.

Yes.

But then, I heard some rapid footsteps coming from the alley in front of me like someone was being chased by his ex-wife asking for alimony.

My heart sank like a condom on a small d*ck.

I gulped.

And then—

"I am back!"

Just then, I figured what Jack meant by punishment.

Who came back was none other than…

Johnson, the therapist without the 'the'!