All Communications Were Cut Off 10 Minutes Ago-An Occupational Hazard>Act 33

Disclaimer: Problems are the price of progress. Don't bring me anything but trouble. Good news weakens me. It takes your enemy and your friend, working together to hurt you to the heart; the one to slander you and the other to get the news to you. Nothing travels faster than light, with the possible exception of bad news, which follows its own rules. Never awake me when you have good news to announce, because with good news nothing presses; but when you have bad news, arouse me immediately, for then there is not an instant to be lost. Fiction can be that way sometimes. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental & should not be taken or misconstrued as such. Anyone who thinks otherwise probably believes that friends are like television. Some are like PBS and always asking for money. Others are like the news, with sad tales to tell everyday, some are like that one station with the foreign language; you don't understand a word of it but you listen and watch.

Ways to communicate in and around Devil’s Island have been exceedingly difficult in the past and present, that is of course, you chose to subscribe to the monopolizing network of Broadcast Betty, which up until recently had exclusive rights to broadcast Devil’s Island official news and information; but not through the standard method, rather through the old-fashioned whisper-whisper ubidee-ubidee the tree method.

Up until one week ago, Broadcast Betty had broadcasting exclusivity rights to every living, half-living, late and former soul that once made their home on Devil’s Island, but no longer.

Enter Dirt-Dishing Daisy, one of the meanest and most lowdown broadcasters ever to hit Devil’s Island. Not since the days of Tamara The Toothless Telepathic Terrorist have the inmates of Devil’s Island seen such a true dogfight for the rights to broadcast information relatively unknown to others.

Dirt-Dishing Daisy, a former member of the now disbanded OCTOBER Sisters, acquired broadcast power in her own right after the suicide of fellow OCTOBER Sister Chimney-Smoking Martha. The other OCTOBER Sister, Loudmouth Lucy turned a deaf ear and went mum, when Broadcast Betty, as well as Dirt-Dishing Daisy came sniffing around her cell for information leading to Chimney-Smoking Martha's suicide.

Unbeknownst to Broadcast Betty however, was the mere fact that Dirt-Dishing Daisy had already set up her own prisoner broadcast network. With a trailer-trash demeanor and leathery skin to boot, Dirt-Dishing Daisy is the kind of broad you wouldn’t want to meet in a darkened prisoner yard upon Devil’s Island.

If you look toward Dirt-Dishing Daisy’s way even for a second without her permission, you be forever encoded on her “broadcast with intent to do harm list.” Whether you asked for it or not, she will inflict as much broadcast pain as possible upon you, so as to make you not forget your crime anytime soon.

Sometimes broadcasters are like that. They want and desire so much power, that sometimes it gets to a level where they have to prove to the population around them that they are the greatest egomaniacs they can be and being broadcasters, well this just fits the bill perfectly!

Lately the broadcasting competition on Devil’s Island has become fierce! Broadcast Betty has had to update her entire broadcasting network and protect herself from sabotage, thanks in large part to Dirt-Dishing Daisy who has made every effort to shut down Broadcast Betty both on the broadcast level and under the table.

Under the table execution is part of Dirt-Dishing Daisy’s plan and she thinks nothing of undercutting her competition by making offers to the likes of Upper Prison Brass, The X-5 Unit, The Barnaby Boys, Mugsy & Lugsy, The Great Divine Spirit, The Sorcerer Sisters and Sister Tootsie Footsy, primarily misinformation that leads a collective bad taste in prisoner circles and cut-throat style political broadcasting that make the aforementioned seem like saints.

Yes, friends, Devil’s Island truly lives up to its name. At last, truth in discretion has risen to the top where merde once predominately fermented. And the stench couldn’t be any finer than it is today!