[ WP/MP ] Write a story reimagining a character from another piece of fiction as down-and-out/washed up/past their prime .

I looked down at my hands. I knew why I was here, I knew who turned me in. What would I expect? 
 
 After the little escapade with blowing up all of the credit company's buildings, I'd expected us to get back to the way things should be. Men would n't be neutered anymore, we'd be roasting deer in shopping malls. The cheap knickknack furniture I bought to impress no one would all get burned. It'd just go away. 
 
 I was wrong. 
 
 `` We could have done this you know. You just bitched out.'' 
 I looked at the chains on my wrists, the orange jumpsuit. It's funny knowing that I'm not alone, even in solitary. 
 
 The rebellion had lasted for a few months. Older stronger power bases had n't quite expected to see the credit system damaged in the way it was. *Who would have thought of blowing up all of the credit houses? * Me apparently, but I did n't think far enough ahead. The government is an older, and much more experienced proponent of mayhem than me and the Roberts. 
 
 After the project we'd had six-months of freedom. Well, really we'd only knocked the system back a handful of days. *Backups* I forgot to destroy the backups that were obviously kept at the banks. 
 
 Of course I could n't take full credit for that fuck-up. Tyler did n't think of it either. Now he was sitting in here, in solitary, blaming me for everything. 
 
 The Roberts were excited after Project Mayhem was over. Thought we'd get back to the way things were. Marla even stayed around for a while. I'd had Roberts in all of the major forms of oppression, the military, the police. It was all perfect. Except, when push came to shove, the few Roberts that tried to turn were executed by superiors in front of their squads, and the others. The others reverted to their old training, the `` new'' way. 
 
 Fighting, feeding, fucking, and *fleeing*. The four F's that drive all of us, and I overlooked the last one in favor of the other three. It was my own fleeing that got me in here. Tyler copped out, did n't want to die, again; so while I was getting some rest he called the cops, confessed to knowing the mastermind behind Project Mayhem ( the name was out now ) and they came and arrested us. 
 
 Now I'm sitting here in solitary -- turns out the guards do n't like fighting in prison -- waiting for them to finish charging me with sedition, treason, terrorism, and whatever other charges they want to lump on me. Why Tyler's here, I have no idea. The fact that he can be in solitary with me is astounding. But he is, and he wo n't shut up no matter how much I explain things to him. 
 
 *I guess we're both going to die. * 
 
 [ Edit: Little bit of grammar. ]
