I'M BRINGING OUT THE BOO!

When an employee tries to sneak a can of V8 juice past the gate officer, his actions speak loud and clear: HE DOESN’T GIVE TWO-SHITS ABOUT HIS COWORKERS.

When a sergeant catches him trying to weasel through the gate traffic, he asks him if he’d like to have his throat slit from the metal.

Of course, the question is a silly one because no reasonable person wants a Columbian Necktie, and let’s be honest here, Mr. V8 would not intentionally discard the tin can after drinking its contents; he’d do the responsible thing; he’d simply place the can in a trash receptacle for an inmate-porter to dispose of properly. I’m sure that if you pointed out the error in Mr. V8’s actions, he’d come up with a simple solution; he’d say, “I’ll take it back through the gate and dispose of it at home.”

Oh, I’m sure everyone’s thinking: Hey, he’s our coworker; we should give him the benefit of the doubt, just like he gives us with the dozens of music cd’s he leaves on his desk overnight. He’s got quite a nice collection, and he has, in good faith, put his trust in his fellow heavy-metal-music-loving-coworkers not to steal any of his cd’s. I, along with my head-banging peers (and I’m most certain of this), know beyond a shadow of a doubt that most of the prison population does not prefer such high-testosterone, devil-worshipping noise, and even if they did, they don’t have cd players; which means they’ve got very little motive for performing a five-fingered discount.

In conclusion, I can assure you that if Mr. V8 had brought in a bunch of rap cd’s—and let’s not be racist here, let’s include Eminem, let’s include Betty Boo (yeah, I know, it’s a stretch)—then I, along with my coworkers, would not only bleed from our ears, but from our jugulars as well.