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"Officer, you have to let me go!" Janice protested. "I'm not the one you're looking for! I've explained exactly what happened ..."
"Save it, Maeve," said the guard. "Nobody's buying your bullshit today."
"I am NOT Maeve! I don't even look anything like her! My name is Janice Courtenay. That woman stole my clothes from me at gunpoint, and this vulgar orange ensemble was all I had to wear. Why won't you believe me?"
"Yeah, Bill, why won't you believe her?" the woman at the back of the cell spoke up, with a wry smile on her face. "Matter of fact, exactly the same thing happened to me ... that's why I've been in here all these years. Just forgot to mention it before."
"Margo, you better watch it," the guard snapped. "You're already on thin ice this week after what you did to Doris."
"Listen, we can straighten of all this out," said Janice desperately. "If you'll just let me call my father, then -"
"This morning I was missing one prisoner," said the guard, as he pulled the cell door shut with a loud clang. "This evening, I'm not missing any prisoners. That's good enough for me. So I suggest you be a good girl and go to sleep ... Maeve."