The woman's articulate voice was music to Jake the Snake's ears. She was not a real woman but she was definitely bearing good news. It felt good to have a woman talking to him even if she was just a robotic machine. Jake the Snake pushed the #2 button on the phone once more to check his commissary account.
The phone said," You have five hundred dollars and zero cents. Push two to repeat this message." A smile ran across the hit man's face. So the letter hadn't been a phony after all. After he'd finish the job another five hundred would be added to his account. Jake the Snake had been indigent for the past 6 months. He was tired of brushing his teeth with the free 3 inch toothbrushes and that nasty toothpaste powder. The indigent care packages that the prison handed out were minuscule and the cheap one bladed razors often cut his face. A thousand dollars wasn't much compared to the jobs he'd been paid to do on the streets but a grand was a small fortune in jail. Besides, this job was going to be a piece of cake.
Jake the Snake hung up the phone and scratched his copper red goatee. He pulled the letter out of his pocket and read it once more. The letter said, Hey Jake the Snake remember me? The Teacher? The lady that lives inside the phone has some good news. I need you to buy the Catholic priest an ice cream. Next week I'll be sending you five pictures. The note was obviously written in code. Buying an ice cream meant to kill. Five pictures being sent meant five hundred dollars was on it's way. Jake the Snake looked at the clock on the wall by the mail room. It was 12:30 pm. In thirty minutes the Catholic priest would surely go to his cell for his daily afternoon nap. It was going to be a very long nap on this particular day.
Jake the Snake walked in circles around the unit with the rest of the zombies that were overly medicated. He had worked hard with feigning a mental illness to be on this special secluded "Pill Block" where it was nice and quiet compared to the rest of the prison.
Sure enough at precisely 1pm Jake the Snake watched the priest saunter over to his cell for his afternoon nap. Most of the inmates didn't like the Catholic priest because he was a big time rat. To make matters worse the priest was a kingpin pedophile. Jake the Snake hated rats and rats could never be trusted. The priest would observe inmates stealing from the kitchen and report it to the authorities.
The hit man ran all these thoughts through his mind to excuse his upcoming behavior. He circled the unit one last time and spotted the priest's cell mate sitting down at a table and starting a new game of scrabble. Good. That meant he had at least 30 minutes. Jake the Snake circled the unit for 10 minutes allowing the priest to fall asleep before he furtively slipped into the priest's cell. Perfect. The pedophile had the bottom bunk. This was going to be easy.
Jake the Snake pulled a thick clear plastic bag that had been used to hold the books his mother sent him out of his pocket and unfolded it. There were lots of identical bags like this in circulation throughout the prison. What made these bags so special is that they fit snug around one's head leaving virtually no room for air. The Catholic priest lay on his back toes up in the air and snoring like a bear. The hit man stared at the priest's cross necklace dangling from his neck then slowly crept towards him. Cross necklaces were the only form of jewelry the prison allowed inmates to wear.
Long nose hairs teetered about under the stertorous conditions of the priest's snoring. Jake the Snake wondered if he was dreaming about little children or alter boys. All in one swift motion the hit man leaned forward and pulled the bag over the priest's head. The priest sat up like the girl in the movie The Exorcist. When the priest inhaled to let out a scream the bag fastened to his face like saran wrap. The hit man clamped shut the bottom of the bag with his hands being careful not to leave choke marks. The hit man climbed onto the bed and used his knees to hold down the priest's arms. After an excruciating 90 seconds the priest's face turned pale and he remained motionless. Jake the Snake reached into his pocket and pulled out a shoe lace then neatly wrapped it around the bag and tied it in a neat little bow.
He took a few steps back to admire his work and then reached in his pocket once again and pulled out a small piece of a soda can shaped like a press on nail. He quickly ambled over to the priest's locker and used the tiny piece of soda can to pop the combination lock. A little trick he learned from the Mexicans. Jake the Snake reached in his pocket once more and pulled out a zip-lock bag containing a handful of anti-depressant pills, the exact medication the priest was purportedly taking. Ironically Jake the Snake was on the same exact medication as the priest and hid the pills under his tongue at pill line so he could hoard them up and sell them.
The hit man neatly tucked the pills under a t-shirt inside the locker and then re-locked the combination lock. They would later find the pills upon investigation and conclude that the priest wasn't taking his medication resulting in thoughts of suicide. Jake the Snake was just about to push the cell door open when he stopped dead in his tracks. He dug the neatly typed suicide note out of his back pocket and layed it on the priest's paunch.
" Another job well done." He muttered to himself and walked out the door.