Soap on a Rope? Thanks, but where were you when I was getting male raped last week?

Coming to visit me again, I see? Gee, all prisoners should have a
friend as caring as you. No really, you are making it seem as if my
stay in this place is just flying by! What's this? A gift for me!
Really you shouldn't have. Here, gently slide it across the table and
I will pick it up after a prescribed waiting period of five seconds.
The guards here really take that no touching rule seriously! I can't
wait to see what's inside. Is it? Could it be? It is!! It's soap on
a rope!............I'm sorry, you must notice that my joy is a little
bit affected. It's a fine gift and all, and I know your heart's in
the right place, but darn it, where were you when I was getting male
raped last week?!

I don't mean to take my anger out on you. After all, you weren't the
one that forcibly sodomized me. That was Oscar the Mad Dog Rapist,
otherwise known around these parts as Squirrel Dick. Why do they call
him that? Why, when he male rapes you, it feels as if a squirrel, or
for that matter any sharp clawed rodent, is frantically tunneling its
way up your anus, as if your rectum contained a delicious horde of
acorns, rather than very fragile and tender living tissue.

Now I don't mean to be a sourpuss, and I certainly don't want to put a
damper on your visit, which rightly ought to be a joyous occasion.
It's just that it's hard to put on a happy face when, for the last
three days, you have been unable to hold your bowels. As a matter of
fact, I'm sitting in a growing pool of my own seepage even as we
speak. But hey, on the bright side, at least the bleeding has
stopped! And I'm fairly confident that over the following weeks…and
months…my anus will regain some of its lost elasticity as long as I
follow the exercise regimen set forth by some of my fellow
accountants. For some reason, it seems that we, the convicted
accountants, are singled out for the harshest treatment in the shower
room. Strange, that. Anyway, I'm getting off track. If for some
reason the exercises don't work, well, that's why they invented the
colostomy bag! I'm sure my much younger trophy wife, whom I trust is
waiting chastely for me as I serve out my sentence, won't let a little
bag of human feces get between us and a fulfilling sex life!

Speaking of sex life, how are things with you and my former secretary?
As I seem to remember, you were busy diddling her when I asked you to
shred those documents that the SEC later seized when they raided my
office. I think I had been badgering you to do that for a week, which
is rather ironic, because that is the exact amount of time ago that
this soap on a rope would have come in really, really handy. Oh well,
it appears that seven is not my lucky number!

But seriously, this is a very thoughtful gift. The next time you
come, would it be too much to ask for you to bring a couple of dozen
corks? I haven't had a dry night's sleep in a couple of days, and I
believe, if properly inserted, they might be just what the doctor
ordered. White sheets, here I come!