 On the 22nd of every month, at 1500 hours on the dot, the door would open to 682 cell. Alarms would blare, the site would enter standard lockdown configuration, and then the show would start. What followed was five glorious hours of 682 against the most dangerous contraption that an army of engineers could design. This was the only break from the monotony of containment that the lizard got. It wasn't much, but it was something. And it was the something that gave 682 hope that the foundation would one day f**k up so bad that it would finally be able to roam the countryside doing what it did best slaughter except today they were late except they were never late. The lizard glared at the door. It refused to open.