You don't talk. You never, EVER talk. As has been pointed out above, not only do snitches get stitches, but they end up in ditches. Even though we're incommunicado with each other, my partner knows this - it's one of the rules of the Biscuit Syndicate. So we get a year, big deal. As members of the Syndicate, coupled with the fact that biscuit thieves stand fairly good in the prison hierarchy, we should have a pretty cushy time of it in the nick.
But there's another option. Our run at stealing cookies turned out to be so profitable, that I'm able to hire a pet psychiatrist to prove that I wasn't in my right mind during the crime spree ('I ask you, M'lud - would a sane man target these poor little girls?'). Getting off with a verdict of 'Diminished Capacity' would not only avoid prison time, but - since it was a non-violent crime - the most I'm likely to get is orders to report to a counselling session one a week for six months, and just go on and on about how I was mentally abused by my domineering mother who forced me to parade around in Father's cocktail dresses.
Boru
But there's another option. Our run at stealing cookies turned out to be so profitable, that I'm able to hire a pet psychiatrist to prove that I wasn't in my right mind during the crime spree ('I ask you, M'lud - would a sane man target these poor little girls?'). Getting off with a verdict of 'Diminished Capacity' would not only avoid prison time, but - since it was a non-violent crime - the most I'm likely to get is orders to report to a counselling session one a week for six months, and just go on and on about how I was mentally abused by my domineering mother who forced me to parade around in Father's cocktail dresses.
Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
