A sharp smell under his nose made Ryan reflexively recoil.

"Ah. You're awake."

Ryan took a second to orientate himself. He found himself on a hard wooden shelf trying to pass as a bed. As Ryan sat up, he surveyed his surroundings and realized he was inside a creepy prison cell that resembled something from a medieval era. The air felt heavy with an eerie atmosphere, adding to the unsettling ambiance. His attention was drawn to the pair of manacles tightly clasped around his wrists. The manacles were adorned with softly glowing runes and intricate magic circles adorned with arcane symbols. Ryan's gaze fixated on the glowing runes, his mind racing to decipher their power source. He contemplated whether they defied the laws of thermodynamics or if they glowed some form of radioactive material, which would pose a greater threat than simply being confined to a jail cell.

Prince Morgan condescendingly explained, "Suppression manacles. Don't plan on using your aura to escape." He gestured towards the restraints, "But please, examine them all you want. There is no way to free yourself."

Ryan looked up, "I have an aura?" He looked confused, "No idea what that means." He held up his chains, "Truthfully, I'm just trying to figure out where they put the batteries."

The prince pulled his head back slightly as he narrowed his eyes at Ryan, "Batteries? What’s a batteries?"

Ryan looked like he was going to explain then waved his hand dismissively, "Never mind." He looked around the cell but kept talking to his captor, "You know, I never caught your name."

The prince blinked, "What?"

Ryan replied with the exact same tone and inflection, "What?" Now that's a funny name. No wonder nobody likes you, Mister What." He finally looked at the Prince, "So tell me, did your parents hate you or is it some sort of family tradition?"

Prince Morgan sputtered for a second and then exclaimed, "I am the third prince, you fool!"

Ryan nodded, "Well, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince What. But my name isn't U-fuel. It's Ryan."

The prince sneered, "Lying to Royalty is a punishable offense! Your name is REED, not... -Ryan-"

Ryan smacked his forehead, "Oh! Right! DUH! Yeah. My name is-" He lifted both hands together and made finger quotes in the air, "Reed Ratman".

Prince Morgan clicked his tongue, "No. It's Reed Rat-LIFF"

Ryan rolled his eyes, "Ratliff. Rat cliff. Rat-Smiff. WHAT-EVAR!" Ryan twisted his head to the side to crack his neck, "I thought you were going to kill me, Prince What." Ryan smirked, "Or should I call you prince second base?"

Prince Morgan opened his mouth, then immediately closed it. He rubbed his forehead, "My name is Prince Morgan, you idiot. And I don't know anything about a second... base. Or a... first base for that matter.... Wait." the prince cocked his head to the side, "Are you talking about..." The prince's demeanor darkened and it was obvious he was getting angry again, "Who do you work for?"

"That’d be first base." Ryan calmly replied.

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"What?" the prince asked.

Ryan hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "He’s on second."

Prince Morgan roared at Ryan, "EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"

With jangling chains, Ryan held up both hands, palms out in a defensive manner, "Whoa, Whoa. Whoa! Calm down! I'll explain." Ryan cleared his throat by coughing once into his fist. Placing both hands in his lap he looked up at the prince, "Who is on first, What is on second, and I Don't Know is on third base."

Prince Morgan stared at Ryan like he was expecting Ryan's head to sprout wings and fly away. Finally, Prince Morgan's advisor stepped closer, "I suspect, my lord, that it is a series of code phrases. He is waiting for the proper countersign."

Ryan smiled, touched his nose with one finger, then pointed at the advisor, "Got it in one, Grima Wormtounge!"

The advisor was about to correct Ryan as Prince Morgan held up a hand to signal the advisor should remain silent. Intrigued by Ryan's statement, the prince took a step closer to the prison cell bars, his confidence evident. "So, this is a plot, is it?" A smirk played on his lips. "Well, no matter. Come morning, you will face your beheading."

Ryan's expression hardened, and without warning, he lunged towards the bars, causing Prince Morgan to take a startled step back. However, Ryan halted abruptly, avoiding a collision. He flashed a defiant grin. "I bet you my head will still be firmly attached come the afternoon," he declared confidently.

Ryan's grin got wider. His expression was beyond unnerving to those present. The guard made a quick holy sign to ward off evil spirits. Looking unnerved, the prince pulled back, then abruptly turned and walked away.

Ryan pressed his face against the bars and chuckled as he strained to look after the retreating Prince, "Hey! Prince! Don’t be ashamed of who you are!" The cell door slammed shut as the last guard stepped out.

Ryan muttered to himself, "That’s your parent’s job."

----------------------------------------

Ryan kept his face pressed against the bars until the prince and his entourage had long left the area.

With a sinister smile playing on his lips, Ryan's mind had been pushed to the breaking point and now he was long past being rational. He was no longer seeking victory or escape; instead, he was driven by spite. Assessing his surroundings, he counted the eight cells in the area, committing their positions to memory. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds reverberating through the prison, listening intently for any sign of vulnerability. There were sounds that echoed into the area; jangling keys, pacing boots, and the occasional cough. Among the cacophony of noises, he honed in on the distinct clanking of chains.

Ryan's gaze shifted towards the incarcerated lanky man who was in the cell across from him. He had a disheveled appearance with three-day-old stubble, unkempt hair, and tattered clothing. The worn-out attire struck Ryan as peculiarly excessive. There was an unmistakable air of peculiarity surrounding his cellmate. Urging for silence, Ryan placed a finger to his lips, accompanied by a gentle tug on his ear. He then directed his attention towards the corridor leading to the cellblock gate, punctuating his message with a slow, deliberate nod.

The lanky man across from Ryan seemed taken aback by the interaction, but he quickly grasped the message conveyed by Ryan's gestures. With a cautious nod of agreement, he responded by mimicking Ryan's finger to his lips. Ryan stretched out his arm to the other as he whispered, "Stretch your arm out. I need to estimate the width of the corridor."

The other man looked a little suspicious but did so. There were a good five feet between their hands. Ryan on the other hand didn't care about the corridor. He cared about the state of the man's nails. They looked far too well cared for a man who had been in prison long enough to be that scruffy. Ryan came to an obvious conclusion, ~This is a plant here to spy on me.~

Ryan dropped his arm and grabbed the bars with both hands. Quickly looking left and right to make sure they were alone, he whispered across to his fellow 'prisoner', "Hey, Buddy. You like gold?"

The other guy gave him a sideways glance, "Who doesn't, rich boy?"

Ryan laughed, "Rich boy? Nah. Call me O'sok."

The man squinted, then offered his name, "Fons"

Ryan blinked then laughed, "The Fonz? You... are... the FONZ?" Ryan staggered back and started giggling, "Hey, Fonz!" Ryan gave the man a thumbs up, "Aaaayeeee!"

The Fonz squinted and pulled his head back, lips bared in annoyance, "What?"

Overwhelmed by the weight of the events that had transpired, Ryan succumbed to uncontrollable laughter. It was not the laughter of genuine amusement but the laughter of a man whose sanity had been shattered by the relentless madness and chaos that had engulfed him. "Hey!" he exclaimed between fits of laughter, "Maybe Richie or Ponzie could lend you a hand in getting out of here!"

Fons' face went white, "You know the guards?"

Ryan stopped laughing, his eyes starting to water, "Wait... the guards are called Richie and Ponzie? Is your little brother called Cha'chi?"

The man’s face started to turn red as he launched himself at the bars. He grabbed them with both hands and shook the door to his cell as he growled through gritted teeth, "Are you threatening my family?"

Ryan bit both his lips and shook his head, then uttered, "Nope. Wouldn't think of fucking with... THE FONZ!" Then doubled over giggling. He started laughing so hard that tears started streaming down his face as he fell to the floor, "HAPPY DAYS!!!" He howled, "Everything has gone tits up! The walls of reality are crumbling shale!" He started to laugh even harder, unable to stop as everything had ceased being real to him.

The man across the corridor stared in growing discomfort at the child curled up in a ball before him in hysterical laughter. Every passing moment only served to confirm to him that the situation was not what it seemed.

And far worse than he imagined.