Job

When he told her about the new job, Dalton expected Birdie to go apeperiodshitperiod; instead, she acknowledged that the prison was the only place hiring that paid more than minimum wage and she had decided to apply there, too. Dalton was less keen on that, but he needn't have worried; nobody was going to mess with her as she took her place in the administrative office. And nothing was going to happen to Dalton, either (which was the whole point of her being there); anybody so much as got it in their pea cooker brains to shove or punch him (let alone grab his gun), she'd tear out the throats of everyone in the place. Looking at a schematic of the prison elegantly framed on the warden's wall, Birdie thought, "Pretty straightforward; an apocalypse would take about 7 minutes. Bless their tasty hearts."