"What? You don't like me watching over your shoulder?" Travis replied, and I could hear the scarcity in his voice.
"I'm not a child," snapped back Greg, his feet landing heavily on the ground. How was it that Travis was so silent that even my mouse couldn't hear him when he was right behind us, but a man, a fraction of his size, sounded like an elephant every time he moved? "I don't need to be supervised."
"Could have fooled me," shrugged Travis. "You let a prisoner escape. You didn't know about the employee in Cell Block A, and God only knows what you've overlooked."
"Listen to me, you fucking prick," yelled Greg, standing up and stalking over to Travis. Not to be outdone, Travis stood up and looked down at the other man. "You aren't my supervisor; you aren't anything. Hell, you are a new transfer. You haven't even been here a month. And yet you are acting so fucking superior? Fuck you and fuck this."