Every prison has its Greensleeves--sometimes they are called by
different names. Old Marquette called it "the canary;" Louisiana State
called it "the red hats;" elsewhere it was called "the hole," "the
snake pit," "the Klondike." When you're in it, you don't much care what
it is called; it is a place for punishment.
And punishment is what you get.
Block O in Estates-General Correctional Institution was the
disciplinary block, and because of the green straitjackets its
inhabitants wore, it was called the Greensleeves. It was a community of
its own, an enclave within the larger city-state that was the Jug. And
like any other community, it had its leading citizens ... two of them.
Their names were Sauer and Flock.
Sue-Ann Bradley heard them before she reached the Greensleeves. She
was in a detachment of three unfortunates like herself, convoyed by an
irritable guard, climbing the steel steps toward Block O from the floor
below, when she heard the yelling.
"Owoo-o-o," screamed Sauer from one end of the cell block and
"Yow-w-w!" shrieked Flock at the other.
The inside deck guard of Block O looked nervously at the outside deck
guard. The outside guard looked impassively back--after all, he was on
the outside.