So! Hi! Fluff is still not here yet...but it shall be delivered soon! Man, I would make a terrible mailman. Because I'm a woman. Zing! XD idek guys. Notes at the bottom. Anyway have a chapter:

Their wasn't much to be said about the days Stanley spent there in prison. Many times Stanley found himself getting into fist fights for amusement. He would walk back to his cell, beaten and bruised, but the victor. The other inmates learned quickly and eventually stopped challenging him. He would spend his days staring at the ceiling, wondering how he managed to make such a mess of his life. He wondered if anyone else was even capable of screwing up the way he had. It was a long list, to be sure.

Some days he excercised, for hours, loosing himself in the rhythm. The officers murmured when he walked by, breaking their silence to speculate about the strangely quiet con-man. He didn't care. They could gossip all they wanted. It wasn't like they could ever figure him out anyway.

He never got any visitors. No one tried to talk to him anymore. A young man with a retched scar over his exposed left arm once tried to recruit him for one of the prison's gangs. They were planning an escape. Stanley wasn't sure why they wanted him, but perhaps they thought Stan would be helpful. They must've known Stan had broken out of six other jails before.

Stan stared at the boy until he left, looking uncomfortable at Stan's lack of response. Stan did sigh in slight regret. He missed having a proper conversation with another human being, but none of these scumbags were worth his time. Not that Stanely was much better, but at least Stan cared for something other than his own hide.

The days continued like this, in the same cycle. Days of utter inactivity and others of overexertion was the constant harsh pattern as Stanley did nothing more than survive.

"Stanley Pines? You have a visitor."

Stan lifted his head slowly from his bed, staring at the guard in disbelief. He pushed himself off the cot, internalizing a groan. He had forced himself into one of his rigorous excercised the day before and his muscles ached.

At least he'd dropped weight. He was in better shape than he had been for the last three decades. He stepped out the door, walking in tandem with the two guards at his side until they reached a door.

The officer on his right held it open and Stan stepped through hesitantly. Who on this planet wanted to talk to him?

His eyes flickered towards the booths and he blinked in surprise.

Stanford?

...

Ford was...feeling.

There were almost too many thoughts and emotions to properly explain, but the most overriding feeling happened to be relief. Weeks had gone by before he was given the green light to see his brother. Behind a glass wall, of course. It was hard trying to explain away why Stanford had "allowed" his twin to take his identity and where the real Stanford had been for thirty years.

Ford scrutinized his brother as he gestured to the phone on the other side of the glass. He was definitely skinnier than Ford remembered. Stan walked up to the seat slowly, picking up the receiver as he sat down.

"Heya Ford." Stan muttered, his face blank and his eyes trained on the opposite wall. Brows furrowing in concern, Ford tapped on the glass to get Stan to look at him. Stan glanced at him and Ford finally spoke.

"Stanley." Ford frowned when Stan wouldn't hold his gaze. "What are you doing here?"

Stan huffed. "Wrong question, Poindexter."

Ford sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Please, don't. Not right now. Just answer the question, Stanley."

Ford watched as Stan slumped in his seat, letting the phone drop for a moment before bringing it back up to his ear.

"You know why." Stan still refused to look at him.

Ford snapped, he stood up and banged his fist on the table, making the guards around them jump in surprise. "No, I don't! Stanley, I never wanted you to leave!"

The noise made Stan jerk his head to look up at Ford, who was glaring at him through the glass. Stan blinked.

"Yes, you did." He said simply, Ford watched in shock as Stan stood up, nodded towards a guard and left through the door he came through, leaving Ford behind, gaping.

Guess it's time for plan B.

stan: I'm like a robot. Beep boop.

Ford: ...you are are worse than a slippery snake singing sappy songs.

Stan: ...who are you and what have you done with my brother!?

XD idek. Anyways! OMGOSH MM I LOVE YOUR OUTLINE XD. "Exposition is expositiony." And "narration is narrationy." Especially spoke to me. XD

Didja know I get emails everytime one of you follows or reviews my stories!? XD now everytime I get an email my fingers are crossed it's you or any of you BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL ABLAZE! XD anyways, thank you for spamming me. Is this more enough for ya? :P XD. I wrote this like not ten minutes after I saw your reviews...sorry if it's short and a bit eh. :/