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Mercy at the Coliseum
I had always been told that prison cells were places where no one would want to end up, that they were incredibly unsanitary, littered with muck, mold and encrusted excrement that had slowly become one with the straw floor. The straw would be damp and you could feel bugs skittering between your toes, the only relief being to flick them off with your paws, but that could only last for as long as you kept your hind paws from slipping back into the insect abundant canopy bed. What they didn’t tell...