George Mendez


“Really?” you asked, intrigued. You leaned forward a bit, “I bet he’s great and your wedding gonna be perfect.”

She smiled and glanced from you and the road, “Well, I’m Morello. We go by last names in here. What’s yours?”


“Oh… That’s nice… Maybe you’ll get a nickname, we sometimes have nicknames.” She read you’re worried expression and quickly added, “It’s really not that bad in there. We’ll show you the ropes and who to talk to. It’ll be great.”


“Do you guys need help?” You said, looking at the men argue over what to do, “I’m pretty good with computers… I think there is a cord unhook back here.” The men looked up at you and looked where you were pointing.

The younger one smiled at you and grabbed the wire, “Thanks.”

The one with the creepy mustache glared at you, “Why don’t you shut it, inmate?” You were taken aback by his harshness.

You thought back to what Morello had said and hoped this was gonna get better.