Mike Irish paced around inside the small jail cell like some sort of animal in a cage. A lion, maybe. He punched his fist into his palm, and shouted angrily.
“Damn it! Here we are, trapped in this Nazi castle, while Hitler II is out there, breeding his new race of Super Nazis!”
“Ja, Mike”, replied his extremely brilliant cellmate, the wizened Dr. Helmut Gottdammerung, “Ja, but vhat can ve do? Ve’re in jail, avter all!”
Mike furrowed his brow in extreme thought. “We’re in jail…we’re in jail …” he murmured to himself repeatedly. Suddenly, he lifted his head, and punched the wall with his thick fist.
“Helmut, we may be in jail now, but we can break out!”
The good yet Germanic doctor looked incredulously at Mike, his prince-nez glasses slipping down his nose. “Break out?! Mike, are you insane?”
“If staying in jail is normal, then I don’t want to be sane,” said Mike, gritting his teeth together. “We’ll break out tonight and then stop Hitler II.”
“Quiet down in there, you two!” shouted the guard watching the cell. Little did he know that in a few hours, he would be dead and his prisoners would be heading to
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