Death Row

Todd Lewis sat in his cell, hours away from death. A prison guard named McCauley delivered to him his last meal, a dish that consisted solely of an uncooked potato. He plonked it down in front of him and stared curiously at Todd.

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Yeah, used to eat them all the time. Love them so I do.”

This was of course a lie but earlier when McCauley was taking the order, Todd joked that he would like nothing more than a raw potato. He mistakenly thought that McCauley would erupt into a fit of laughter and be telling that anecdote for years to come but instead McCauley just glared at him and asked, in a rather petulant tone, if he was being serious. Too embarrassed to admit that this was a weak attempt at humour, Todd then had to pretend that raw potatoes were his favourite food.

A different guard took the plate away, a much older man and one whom Todd had not seen before. He couldn’t help but notice how much this guard resembled the actor Danny Glover.

Perhaps he’s related to him or maybe it’s Danny himself researching a role, Todd thought to himself.

When the time came for Todd to meet his maker, he was led into a room surrounded by panes of glass where a small crowd of onlookers, including his family and the family of his victim were sat waiting to watch him die from a lethal injection. McCauley and the prison warden strapped him to a gurney.

“Is there anything you’d like to say Todd?” the warden asked.

Todd had always envisioned that when it came to this moment he would make some sort of quip along the lines of “well if I wasn’t scared of needles before I certainly am now!!!!!” but then he remembered how poorly his potato gag had been received so he opted not to make any jokes.

“I actually do have a question,” said Todd. “The guard who took my last meal away looked a lot like Danny Glover and I was just wondering if it’s him or if he’s related to Danny Glover or what?”

“Who’s he talking about,” the warden asked turning to McCauley.

“Probably old Clifford.”

“Is Clifford related to Danny Glover?” Todd asked.

“What am I, his boyfriend?” McCauley snapped.

“Go find out Bill will ya?” said the warden. McCauley sighed and left the room. He returned a few minutes later, breaking what had been a very awkward atmosphere in the execution room, with the warden and Todd making small talk about the warden's plans for the weekend. 

“No relation,” McCauley muttered.

“Anything else Todd?” asked the warden. 

Todd had wanted to apologise to his victim’s family and then tell his own family that he loved them dearly and that he was sorry for putting them through such heartbreak. He also would have liked to find out what his mailman was doing there and why he was so visibly upset considering the fact that him and Todd had only ever been on nodding terms. However Todd was reluctant to delay things any further as he could tell that McCauley was getting impatient with how long this was taking and he hated the idea of anyone being in a mood with him so he declared that he had nothing left to say and a mere 15 minutes later, a medical technician pronounced Todd Lewis dead.

And let me tell you, while all this was going on, guess where Mr. Danny Glover was? Fast asleep in his plush, Hollywood home. And you’ll never guess who was lying there beside him? A whore! . . . . Or maybe it was his wife. Either way, it’s well for some isn’t it?