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Disclaimer: I do not own Willard, or any of the characters in Willard.

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Willard looked around the grotesque cell, that he called home. He sat in the same corner day after day, watching the pea green wallpaper peel, wishing he and his rats were together again. Willard quickly shook the thought of those rodents out of his head. How can he still adore them? They had destroyed his life, and put him in the asylum. Although it was he who ordered them to do his bidding, it was the rats who had betrayed him. Revenge was sweet though, and Willard knew it. He was displeased with the rats, but angered with the predicament he fell into. Would he ever be free? Would he have to spend the rest of his life looking at peeling wallpaper, in this hell on earth? All these questions puzzled Willard. He needed to find a way out. He needed to escape.

Willard awoke to the sound of a cafeteria tray, banging on the floor next to him. It was breakfast time. Oh how he hated the food here, the oatmeal was discolored and soup like, the eggs looked like something that had been eaten and thrown up again, and the toast was stale. Although the food looked disappointing enough, Willard was even more disappointed to see that this morning there was no spoon on his tray. He looked up at the nurse with shining eyes and said "Ma'am, may I trouble you for a fork?" The nurse looked down at the tray and said "You don't need a fork to eat any of that, you crazy lunatic." "But I can't eat my eggs with a spoon ma'am; I'd much prefer to eat them with a fork." replied Willard. "Alright then, I'll go and get you a fork, but don't make this a habit." Yes! Thought Willard, my plan to escape is finally beginning to unfold. When the nurse brought back the fork, he quickly hid it in his pocket, and shoved the tasteless eggs into his mouth, with the spoon.

That afternoon, Willard just sat in his corner and thought so hard, he was afraid his head would combust. He had so much to plan, but so little time to plan it. Willard didn't have any rats to help him this time, so indeed it was going to be a tough escape to accomplish. He figured that when the nurse came to give him his dinner, and turned around to exit through the rusty white door, he would viciously thrust the fork into his heart. When it was clear that he was no longer breathing, Willard would put on his uniform and act as if he were a nurse. When night came, all the patients would be sleeping, and he would then make his escape. It was a cheap, risky way out of this hell on earth, thought Willard, but there was nothing else he could do. He sat there rocking back and forth, a creepy smile pasted upon his face, laughing to himself, I'm a genius, I'm the King of Rats, and I'm going to escape.