Repeated requests for a lawyer have been met with head rubs and chin tickles. I have a feeling that I'm not being taken seriously.
My cell is much smaller than my normal residence but comfortable in its way. The Chief Minion seems to have forgotten her jumper so I am curling up with it when I sleep to ensure that the light coating of my hairs remains upon it.
There is a disreputable-looking tabby in the cell next to mine. I've not spoken to him much - one doesn't like to associate. There appear to be others incarcerated in another cell block across the way. I try to ignore the noise.
On the plus side, I don't have to put up with that pesky little Jazzer. I wonder if he's pining for me...
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