“Computer,” Ryan starts them off with.
“Ryan,” Alonzo replies coyly. Ryan rolls his eyes.
“El Norte,” Chico says.
“Nah,” Ryan interjects. “That’s an E.”
“Fine.” He thinks for a moment, then says, “necklace,” fingering the chain at his throat.
“El Norte,” Beecher says with a smirk.
“Em City,” Ryan replies.
“I don’t know if that counts,” Alonzo muses.
“Why not? You said name shit that’s in Oz. Em City’s in Oz.”
“More of a place than a thing.”
“What, but El Norte counts? That’s not a thing either.”
“The fuck are you trying to say?” Chico demands.
“It’s people.”
“People count. Torquemada said you, remember?”
“Em City counts,” Poet decides. “Torquemada, it’s you. Y, go.”
Alonzo shrugs. “You.” Ryan opens his mouth to say something, then reconsiders.
“Underwear,” Chico says.
“Rats.”
“There’s rats?” Alonzo asks with an exaggerated shiver. The others affirm.
“Shanks,” Ryan follows up with.
“Shamrock.”
“Killing.”
“God.”
“God?” Ryan snorts. "Come on, lawboy.”
“The old man talks to him,” Alonzo points out. “He’s here.”
“D-tabs,” Ryan says. Alonzo sticks his tongue out at him.
“Sex.”
“Man, you’re giving me an x?” Chico complains. “Fuck you.”
“Giving up, Chichi?”
“Nah. X-ray machine.”
“There’s no –”
“In the fucking mailroom, pendejo.”
“Entropy,” Beecher says.
“Man, what?”
“What are you dinks doing in here?” Murphy demands, entering the room. “Anyone not using the computer, out.” Everyone but Poet gets up and files out of the room.
“Yo, O’Reily, it’s still you,” Chico says, bumping his shoulder as the group heads for the TVs. “Y.”
“Hang on,” Ryan mutters, collapsing into one of the chairs.
“Ten seconds,” Alonzo reminds him as he takes the seat next to him.
“Fuck. Uh...shit. Fuck. I don’t know. Nothing starts with y.”
“Your mother,” Alonzo replies promptly. Ryan glares at him.
“Rat poison.”
“Nemesis,” Beecher says, taking a seat behind Ryan. “Necrosis, narcolepsy, nervous breakdown.”
“Hey, next time? You’re not playing.”
“Nephews, nurses, noses, nightmares.” He leans in. “No hope.”
“Entertainment,” Alonzo cuts in.
“Tits,” Chico offers.
“Shakedown!” Mineo bellows. The inmates groan as the TVs shut off and the hacks pour in.
“Nothing,” Ryan grumbles.
“Game over,” Alonzo agrees.