I had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half, and I had just entered that state between dreaming and being awake. I don't know why I allowed myself to doze off for that long. Usually, I only sleep for forty-five minutes a night because you never know when you're gonna have to make a run for it, and if you're caught sleeping, there is no chance for escape. The cops knew this, and they used it against me. They must have been watching me for days, documenting my sleep patterns, recording my every move, learning how I operate inside and out. They planned their move carefully, and even I have to say that I was impressed by their commitment to bringing down the most notorious criminal in Southern Illinois... that's me. John Cheese.

3:30 PM

A pleasant knock at the door. The kind of knock you get from your grandmother or your other grandmother. My wife makes a fatal mistake and opens it to find our worst fear: a cop. Damn, he was good. He had to have picked up on the grandmother knock while staking out my house because she is the only person we ever open the door for. From somewhere outside my dream of welding an extra arm on the neck of Willie Nelson, I hear the words "warrant" and "arrest." Suddenly, I snap awake and sit straight up in bed, straining to hear the conversation between the fuzz and my wife. Again, I hear the words. "Warrant." "Arrest." Damn, I thought. A cop is here to arrest the band Warrant. How could he have possibly known that I was hiding them here? There was no time to think about that. If I were to make it out of here alive, I knew that there was only one thing I could do.

Silently sliding out of bed, I took off all my clothes and reached for my bottle of invisibility pills. Usually one does the trick, but in this case, I knew that I couldn't take any chances. I would have to be really invisible to pull this one off. I took four. Carefully putting the bottle back, I smiled. My private doctor had cleverly disguised the label by printing "Valium" on the side. I knew that one day it would come in handy. I stood there naked for a few minutes while my wife argued with the policeman, biding me some time for the invisibility pills to take effect.

Just as I began to fade from sight, my wife stepped into the bedroom.

"Why are you naked," she asked.

"Never mind. Close the door. Just stall him for a few more minutes until I become completely invisible."

My wife dropped her head and sighed.

"John, please don't do this. He says he has to arrest you because you didn't appear in court. You'll be in jail until we can raise $300 for bond, and on Tuesday, we can get this all cleared up."

"He'll never take me alive. He might say he's here for a failure to appear, but what he means is he's here to kill me. You stall him, and when I'm fully invisible, I'll just slip out the back door with Warrant. Now, hurry. We haven't much time."

"I'm not stalling him, John. You can't turn invisible, and Warrant is not staying at our house. All that happened was they sent the notification to appear in court to our old address. It's a simple mistake, and we can have it all cleared up by Tuesday morning. Now please get dressed and come out to the living room. Don't make this difficult."

Something wasn't right. Why was my wife so eager to send me to jail? Why wasn't she willing to stall the officer? Then it hit me. She was in on it, too. Grabbing her shirt with both hands, I ripped it open, sending buttons shooting in all directions. She jumped back in shock.

"I knew it! You're wired!"

"I'm not wired," she yelled. "That's my bra, you idiot! And you just ruined my favorite shirt! Now get your goddamn clothes on and come out here before he thinks you're in here beating me!"

"You bitch! How could you sell me out like that? What did they offer you? Immunity? Money? Whatever it is, I'll double it. Just stall him for thirty more seconds, then I'll be out."

Rolling her eyes, she put on a t-shirt and stepped back into the living room, shutting the door behind her. Faintly, I heard her tell the officer that I would be out shortly. Then, she said something about medication, but I couldn't make out much more than that because I got distracted by my own penis. I was getting a huge erection. Good. That meant the pills had taken effect. It was now time to sneak by the cop.

Slowly pulling back the door, I peeked into the living room. Damn, he was looking right at me. Wait, I thought. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the door. To him, the door was opening on its own, and that had to be an odd site. Thinking quickly, I made some wind noises with my mouth to make it appear that a breeze had blown the door open. Keeping my eyes on him, I silently tiptoed across the living room floor, being careful not to disturb any rugs or knock anything over. Inch-by-inch, I crept past him, pausing every couple of feet to make sure my erection was still present. If that disappeared, I was in big trouble. So far, I was still in the clear, but just to be on the safe side, I figured I'd better masturbate while I walked just to keep the erection going.

Something wasn't right. The cop was still looking at me. But how?

"What the hell are you doing," he asked in disgust. "Put your damn clothes on and let's go. I haven't got time for this shit today, buddy."

He could see me! How could he possibly be able to see me? I began to panic. Perhaps my erection wasn't good enough. In desperation, I whacked my penis faster and picked up my walking pace. But as I passed by the officer, it dawned on me: his sunglasses! Of course! He was wearing his police-issued, anti-invisibility sunglasses. Thinking fast, I snatched the glasses from his face and made a dash for the kitchen. Pulling the lid from the trashcan, I crumpled up the shades and threw them in, but it was too late. His expert tracking skills were too much for my simple escape plan. Before I had the chance to improve my fading boner, he tackled me and wrestled me to the ground. In mere seconds, he had me handcuffed and was dragging me out the front door.

"You can pick him up at the station, Mrs. Cheese. Sorry for the inconvenience," he told my wife as he shoved me in the back seat.

"You can't arrest me," I screamed. "I'm invisible! My erection tells me I'm invisible!"

The neighbors must have thought that cop was insane, pushing an imaginary man into his squad car.

4:15 PM

"Let's put him upstairs in the good-behavior cells," suggested one officer as I got my orange jail suit on. "His arrest was basically a mistake in the first place, and I don't think there's any chance of him being a pain in the ass."

"You sure about that, Don? I think he might be a little crazy."

"That might be, but the fucker took four Valium right before we brought him in. We'll just let him get some beauty sleep until his wife brings in the money to get him out of here."

The cop handed me some blankets, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some soap, a cup for water, toilet paper, and a few extras and led me to my holding cell. I had no idea how hellish a county jail could be. The television only got seventy-two channels, and it was obvious that the maid was clearly second-rate. We only had access to the pool table every two hours or so, and the guards were all located downstairs, so if we needed anything, we had to raise our voices to slightly above speaking level, putting a minor strain on my vocal chords. There were four decks of cards on the picnic table, and I could tell right away that at least three of them had been used. It was awful.

Two other men resided in this "good-behavior" cell, and I knew that if I were to survive my stay, I would have to make my presence known and establish that I was not a man to be fucked with. That's exactly what I did.

"My name is John Cheese," I announced as I approached the two men. "Which one of you wants to be my bitch?"

One of the men glanced up from his spades game and chuckled.

"Have a seat, Cheese. We heard they finally brought you down. What'd they get you for? Murder? Assault?"

Pulling out a smoke, I lit it up and pulled the ashtray over to me.

"Failure to appear in court."

"My God," the young man gasped. "And they let you come up here? How'd you pull that one off?"

"I'm John Cheese. And if you both remember that, we'll have no problems."

"GRUB!" yelled an officer from the front of the cell. Both men stood up, and I followed. I had never been in a jail before, so I figured the best thing I could do was follow suit and act like I knew exactly what I was doing. The two men sat back down with their trays and changed the channel to championship figure skating. This was my perfect opportunity to blend in, and I immediately took it.

"Marcella Abintini is really blazing some new trails in the free-style division this year," I began. "She's no Johan Bartalonas, but she has really come into her own since her birthday last November."

The young man looked at me oddly and took a bite of his cheeseburger.

"Ummm, OK. We're just waiting for 'Friends' to come on," he explained.

"Oh. So, what's your name and what are you in for?"

"Bobby. I forgot to pay a speeding ticket."

"What about you, slim," I asked the other man.

"He doesn't talk," explained Bobby. "He got caught with marijuana. His name is Mark."

I turned to him and laid my fork on the table. I could tell right away that this one was going to be a problem.

"So," I sneered, "you're too good to talk, huh? What, you think you're special? You think you're better than me? Well, listen up, fucko, you have about ten seconds to start talking before I jam this fork in your eye. What do you think about that?"

"No, no, no," Bobby chuckled. "It's not because he doesn't want to. It's because he doesn't have a voice box. He was born with a rare condition that renders his throat- OH MY GOD!"

The fork plunged into his eye up to the end of the tines, and blood spurted across the table, coating his cheeseburger in a thick layer of red. Mark opened his mouth to let out a scream, but nothing came out... only the thin rustle of air. Bobby stood and let out a bone-chilling scream, much like that lady in "Psycho," and soon we heard footsteps trampling up the stairs outside of our cell. Mark fell to the ground, and I positioned myself over him.

"You keep your mouth shut, Harpo, and you may just leave here with one good eye. That goes for you, too, Bobby."

"What the fuck is going on in here," yelled the officer as he unlocked the cell.

"I don't know," I stammered in my best panicked voice. "He was just eating his fruit cocktail, and the fork slipped. It landed right in his eye. Isn't that right, Bobby?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at me in horror.

"Goddamnit, Mark. I told you to be careful with those things. That fruit cocktail is slippery. Do you need a doctor? If you don't need one, just don't say anything at all."

Mark was silent.

"Alright. Pull that fork out and finish your dinner. I'll be back up to get your trays after 'Friends' is over."

The cop left, and we sat back down. Mark pulled out the fork, and huddled in the corner. Suddenly, the theme song to 'Friends' began in the background. I grabbed the remote and turned it off.

"Here's the deal," I began. "We're both locked up in this cell, correct?"

"Y-y-yes sir."

"Neither of us want to be here, correct?"

"S-sure."

"Good. We're on the same track. If you listen to me and you follow my directions, we'll both be out of here and on our way across the border by morning."

"Mexico? Sir, I don't want to go to-"

"Not Mexico, you dumbass! Canada! They'll never think to find us there. Are you with me?"

"John, why don't you just post your bail? My girlfriend will be here any minute, and I'll be out of here. You could do the same if you just-"

I gripped my fork and glared at the frightened lad.

"-yes, I'm with you," he said meekly.

"Good. Here's what we do. Now, from what I saw, there are only three guards and one dispatcher. The only camera in the whole building is downstairs by the front door. The cell guard comes up once every half hour, and the next time he is due up here is when 'Friends' is over. He'll most likely be in a bad mood because that show really sucks, so his mind won't be on his job."

"So, what do we do," asked Bobby.

"Right before he comes up to get our trays, I jam another fork in Mark's eye. When he unlocks the cell door to check him out, you tackle him and grab his gun. Now we don't want to kill anyone, but we're gonna have to disable him. So you shoot him in the crotch. After that, he's probably going to scream a little bit, so you're going to have to act quickly. As fast as you can, run downstairs and shoot the other two guards in the crotch. Then, grab their nightsticks and beat them in their crotches until they pass out. Remember that there is still another cop in the dispatch office, so you're going to have to get there quickly before she realizes that anything is wrong.

She is probably going to try to radio for help, so you gotta shoot her in the crotch several times and then punch her in the face. Meanwhile, I'll be up here pissing on the wounded cop and waiting for you to tell me the coast is clear. Once all the cops are inept, we steal their keys and free all the other prisoners."

"Why would we do that," he asked naively.

"Oh, Bobby, you are so young. You gotta remember that we're all in this boat together. We are all prisoners brought down by the man, and we gotta stick together. We are brothers in this man-made hell that they call jail. Plus, once the other prisoners have escaped, we can just get lost in the confusion. They'll be so busy trying to find everyone else, that by the time they get around to looking for us, we'll be drinking really strong beer and playing hockey on the frozen beaches of Quebec."

"Mr. Cheese," called an officer from the front of the cell. "Grab your stuff. You made bail."

A sigh of relief spread across my face, and I stood to grab my belongings. As I approached the entrance of the cell, I stopped, and a tear collected in the corner of my eye. I turned to face Bobby.

"Farewell, my brother. Fear not for your freedom. For I will be back, and you will no longer have to suffer the indignities of these caged walls."

"You don't have to do that, John. My girlfriend will be here in just a few minutes, and I'll-"

"I'll never forget you, brother. What we shared in here is a bond that only broken men can share, and I'll take that feeling to the grave. You have been so kind to me, and I'll do everything in my power to pay you back. Get your rest. I'll be back tonight, and by the light of the early morrow, you'll never have to undergo the persecution of the man again."

Bobby sighed.

"My bail is only fifty bucks. I'll be out in like fifteen minutes. Just go home and get some sleep, John. You will be better off if you just-"

"What we have shared, no other human can share, and I thank you for that, my friend. You have taught me some very important lessons... lessons that I will be honored to pass on to my own sons. As long as they live, they will always know the name 'Bobby,' for when we get to Canada, I will legally change their names, my own, and my wife's to Bobby. We will all be as one in the light and eyes of God, my brother, and when the-"

"Get your ass downstairs before I put you back in that cell, Cheese. I've got work to do."

"Oh, sorry. See ya later, Bobby."

"Later, John."

Reflections

The time I spent in jail has changed me. I am a hardened man, now. The man my wife once knew no longer lives in this body. The mind of a once-jovial comedy writer has withered and wilted, only to be replaced by something more primitive and raw. Sometimes, I long for the days when I could laugh and joke like other men, enjoying a warm spring morning or relishing a light-hearted afternoon with my friends. That has all been stripped from me now. My name has been pulled through the mud of the system, staining my heart with its darkened sadism. Maybe one day I'll be the John Cheese I used to know. But until that day comes, I will have to live my life of shame in hopes that God will forgive me for my horrible crime of not appearing in court. Only time will tell.

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