Can you hear it? Wafting gently like a syphilitic nightingale’s gin-perfumed song adrift on the breeze of sour disapproval? It’s the tinkling melody of exactly ZERO jaws dropping at the news that K DD has returned unaffected from her stretch at the “deprogramming center”. Wherein burly felons were reduced to weepy, girlish hysterics as a result of their failed attempts to inflict “tough love” on our girl K DD, vis-a-vis her brobdignagian alcoholism. Or as she refers to it, her “nicey nicey”. Thrusting helpful pamphlets under her liquor-drenched moosh only served to whip her up into an unfocused rage. Has anyone seen “Mad Dog” Jenkins (aka Prisoner # 112542) from cellblock C recently? No? Really? Well don’t go digging around in K DD’s litter box any time soon. You may just find a scrap of convict-scented buttock skin with a prison tattoo of K DD’s paw print a-mouldering under the Fresh Step. Don’t be squealing, ya stool pigeon. Or you may be next. She will stone cold SHANK you.