![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
history_gurlI wrote this for the Five for Six Challenge on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
oz_rapsheet.
Title: Five Things James Robson Never Thought He'd Be
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: It's Oz people. Do I need to warn you for rape, language, death, etc.? Huh, guess I just did.
Author's notes: This is my first real Oz story. I've written exactly one drabble in the fandom prior to this. Big thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cmk418 for the fine beta duties. She really helped me iron a couple of things out. And thanks to blade_girl for reading it even though she has no knowledge of the canon.
An Aryan
When Jimmy Robson was six years old, his teacher asked the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. Jimmy said he wanted to be a policeman. When he was seven, he wanted to be a fireman. Tony Ponzo said he was going to be an astronaut, and that firemen were dumb. Jimmy tried to explain that firemen helped people, just like policemen, and that's what he wanted to do. Everybody in the class laughed and the teacher looked at him funny.
By the time James Robson was ten, he had learned that you could only help yourself. His mother pope-loving Irish whore turned her eyes back to her bottle as his dad dragged him out to the shed. His teacher stupid nigger bitch smiled sadly when he pulled his sleeves down to cover the marks on his wrists. The guy from Social Services fucking kike named Goldstein told the neighbor that there wasn't enough evidence of abuse. But Tony Ponzo little guinea piece of shit learned that you couldn't grow up to be an astronaut when your nose got smashed so badly that you'd never breathe right again. And if James Robson grinned a little too much for a week, no one really noticed.
Fucked Over
When they cleared Em City after the riot, Robson was amused. When they stuck 'em all in Gen Pop, he was pissed. When they put Beecher with him, he was thrilled. He knew all about Beecher, the bitch. He knew Vern had trained Beecher, and that the prag had turned on the master. He'd show the little lawyer who was boss, and the other Aryans would reward him.
When James Robson woke up in the infirmary, minus part of his dick, he wasn't amused or thrilled. He was, however, still pissed.
Discarded
The light glittered off the shank. The Brotherhood had tossed him out; told him he was no longer worthy. Sure, maybe he hadn't been born into the Brotherhood, but he had earned his place, worked hard to be accepted. He'd protected Vern; even got shanked for him, and what did he get? Not pure enough, James. Not white enough anymore, James. Might as well just call him a traitor to the fucking race.
The shank was sharp as James began to cut; his mind raced to keep up with the blade. If he could carve out those parts, the parts that weren't pure, that weren't right, they'd have to take him back. Just throw away the bad parts, the wrong parts, the jig parts, and the rest would be okay. James' screams started in his head long before they echoed through the cellblock.
Turned On
James Robson hated being a prag. When he offered his ass up to Cutler in exchange for protection from the Italians, he thought he knew how bad it was going to be. He was wrong. But now, oh yeah, things were going right now.
Sucking Cutler's dick, Robson watched the noose tighten around Cutler's neck. Yeah, this was definitely right. When he felt his dick start to stiffen in his pants, Robson hoped it was all about the murder and revenge.
When Cutler stopped twitching, Robson came in his pants and smiled.
Dead
The AIDS unit: the place where they sent the fags to die. Funny, he never thought he'd end up like this. He had a mulatto doctor, a spic shrink and a death sentence. Maybe he should have been a fireman after all; should have helped people when he had the chance.
Sitting on his bunk, he pulled the mason jar full of bleach out and stared at it. Stupid hack thought it was moonshine and took his money to look the other way. Robson figured he had enough time for the bleach to eat the fuck out of his insides before the hack got suspicious. It was probably going to burn like hell, but he deserved that, didn't he? Holding his breath, he chugged the whole jar. As it fell to the floor, he remembered what he'd learned so long ago. You can only help yourself.
James Robson lay down and laughed until he died.
oz_rapsheet.Title: Five Things James Robson Never Thought He'd Be
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: It's Oz people. Do I need to warn you for rape, language, death, etc.? Huh, guess I just did.
Author's notes: This is my first real Oz story. I've written exactly one drabble in the fandom prior to this. Big thanks to
cmk418 for the fine beta duties. She really helped me iron a couple of things out. And thanks to blade_girl for reading it even though she has no knowledge of the canon.An Aryan
When Jimmy Robson was six years old, his teacher asked the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. Jimmy said he wanted to be a policeman. When he was seven, he wanted to be a fireman. Tony Ponzo said he was going to be an astronaut, and that firemen were dumb. Jimmy tried to explain that firemen helped people, just like policemen, and that's what he wanted to do. Everybody in the class laughed and the teacher looked at him funny.
By the time James Robson was ten, he had learned that you could only help yourself. His mother pope-loving Irish whore turned her eyes back to her bottle as his dad dragged him out to the shed. His teacher stupid nigger bitch smiled sadly when he pulled his sleeves down to cover the marks on his wrists. The guy from Social Services fucking kike named Goldstein told the neighbor that there wasn't enough evidence of abuse. But Tony Ponzo little guinea piece of shit learned that you couldn't grow up to be an astronaut when your nose got smashed so badly that you'd never breathe right again. And if James Robson grinned a little too much for a week, no one really noticed.
Fucked Over
When they cleared Em City after the riot, Robson was amused. When they stuck 'em all in Gen Pop, he was pissed. When they put Beecher with him, he was thrilled. He knew all about Beecher, the bitch. He knew Vern had trained Beecher, and that the prag had turned on the master. He'd show the little lawyer who was boss, and the other Aryans would reward him.
When James Robson woke up in the infirmary, minus part of his dick, he wasn't amused or thrilled. He was, however, still pissed.
Discarded
The light glittered off the shank. The Brotherhood had tossed him out; told him he was no longer worthy. Sure, maybe he hadn't been born into the Brotherhood, but he had earned his place, worked hard to be accepted. He'd protected Vern; even got shanked for him, and what did he get? Not pure enough, James. Not white enough anymore, James. Might as well just call him a traitor to the fucking race.
The shank was sharp as James began to cut; his mind raced to keep up with the blade. If he could carve out those parts, the parts that weren't pure, that weren't right, they'd have to take him back. Just throw away the bad parts, the wrong parts, the jig parts, and the rest would be okay. James' screams started in his head long before they echoed through the cellblock.
Turned On
James Robson hated being a prag. When he offered his ass up to Cutler in exchange for protection from the Italians, he thought he knew how bad it was going to be. He was wrong. But now, oh yeah, things were going right now.
Sucking Cutler's dick, Robson watched the noose tighten around Cutler's neck. Yeah, this was definitely right. When he felt his dick start to stiffen in his pants, Robson hoped it was all about the murder and revenge.
When Cutler stopped twitching, Robson came in his pants and smiled.
Dead
The AIDS unit: the place where they sent the fags to die. Funny, he never thought he'd end up like this. He had a mulatto doctor, a spic shrink and a death sentence. Maybe he should have been a fireman after all; should have helped people when he had the chance.
Sitting on his bunk, he pulled the mason jar full of bleach out and stared at it. Stupid hack thought it was moonshine and took his money to look the other way. Robson figured he had enough time for the bleach to eat the fuck out of his insides before the hack got suspicious. It was probably going to burn like hell, but he deserved that, didn't he? Holding his breath, he chugged the whole jar. As it fell to the floor, he remembered what he'd learned so long ago. You can only help yourself.
James Robson lay down and laughed until he died.
