The Curious Case Of Joseph Mulberry

Mordorph 'Muffin' Manton

Mordorph always thought of himself as quite a pleasant kind of guy.
In fact, in his last prison, some of the inmates even nicknamed him 'Muffin' because of his lovely, sweet nature.
Being a nice guy, however, did pose its problems at times.

For example, the first day he arrived at Syrup Sponge Institutional Correction Facility, Mordorph was caught up in an unfortunate misunderstanding which escalated into a rather unflattering fist fight. Unflattering for Mordorph because he was just too much of a nice guy to fight back. Yes, the inmate that attacked him was very scary and Mordorph wouldn't have stood a chance against him anyway, but that was not his reason for chickening out of a fight.

Mordorph was not a violent person. He was a nice person.

Sadly, not everyone realises that he does what he does because he is a nice person, so Mordorph ended up walking away from that fight with a very swollen lip and a very black eye.

If only other people could see the world through Mordorph's one-working-eye, he thought, as he lay on his dusty old bunk in his dusty old room. His bed creaked as he did a 180 degree turn to face his small, mouldy window. What even was mould anyway? Was it nature's way of punishing humans for the destruction they cause to their Earth? Was it a blessing, perhaps, from the peaceful Tree elves? Or was it simply a disgusting fungi that dared to grow on his window sill? These were the types of questions Mordorph thought people should be asking themselves. In his mind, the world was a beautiful place with so many wonderful possibilities and new experiences around every -

- Mordorph landed on the cold stone floor with a thump and a groan.
He should have known. When you got to his grand old age of 36, you wouldn't last long rolling around on a tiny prison bunk bed without watching what you were doing.

He did not appreciate his philosophical thoughts being interrupted like that.

Anyway, Mordorph always wondered how he ended up in multiple prison cells with a personality as kind and peaceful as his own. He was very intelligent too, could have been something great, as his old man would have said. But Mordorph didn't have to wonder; he knew why. He does what he does for the simple, nice people like him. Because in his one-working-eye, although the world is beautiful, the people who run it are not.

The truth was, Mordorph did always think he could do better, you know, get a high paying job, start a family, become something more than a thief and a criminal. Who knows? He could even -

- His door burst right open! (It literally did because it's hinges were so bad if you pushed it too hard they would come off). Great, Mordorph thought, more philosophical thoughts being interrupted.

A Police officer whose name tag read 'Dev Simpson' strode into the room, moustache neat, gun in holster. Looking very professional, Mordorph thought.

"Looking very professional, Dev." Mordorph said.
The officer gave him a very stern glare and Mordorph was surprised his cheekiness didn't cost him anything. Something was off. Why was he here anyway?

Dev had a very masculine look about him and his voice was deep and gruff and rung with authority when he spoke,

"Mordorph Manton, Inmate 402, your presence has been requested with The Director and Detective T.Y Tuppence, please follow me to the Director's office, immediately."