It’s a typical night shift at the Orleans Justice Center. The guards are drinking coffee, likely bickering whose turn it is to monitor the security monitors, and somewhere—way down in one of the dirtier cell blocks—a group of guys are gazing at a toilet like it’s the path to freedom.
Because, well… it was.
Let’s Rewind
Sometime before May 16, a group of 10 inmates—some accused of murder, armed robbery, or general chaos—discovered a hole behind a toilet. Now, for most people, a hole behind a toilet would be the end of the story. You’d file a maintenance report, complain about plumbing, and go back to your day.
But not these guys. Oh no. These boys looked at that broken-up drywall and said, “You know what? Let’s Ocean’s Eleven this thing.”
Except they did not have George Clooney, but Kendall Myles (a second-degree murder charge), and slick tuxedos did not fit the bill, but orange jumpsuits and raw desperation did.
Step 1: The Toilet Plan™
So someone, presumably the group’s unofficial “contractor,” gets the brilliant idea to test the hole. It leads into a “pipe chase” — basically the narrow space between cells, not designed for escape artists, but apparently very accommodating if you’ve skipped a few prison meals.
They crawled through one by one, pushing through the dusty rusty junk, likely not trying to cough too hard because quiet was a priority. Then they crawled through the maze like rats through a Marvel movie’s ventilation shaft. Their last boss? Barbed wire.
But they were prepared. Blankets. Yes. Actual blankets, which they spread out on top of the fence to climb over without cutting themselves open like pepperoni.
I mean… at least, credit them for creativity and cooperation.
Step 2: “Wait… Where’d They Go?”
Here’s the punchline: Nobody noticed. For more than seven hours, no one was aware that 10 prisoners had escaped from jail Houdini-style.
That’s like losing a whole basketball team and subs, and not knowing it until you go to look at the scoreboard.
Eventually, at the 8:30 a.m. count (I’m assuming was not their morning coffee), someone scrunches up his face and says, “Wait. didn’t we have more guys here last night?“
Cut to complete pandemonium as guards dash in all directions, alarms shriek, and someone in management blanksly glares at a hole behind the toilet as if it wronged them personally.
Step 3: The Fallout (a.k.a. “Uh… Who Was Watching the Cameras?”)
Cue the investigation.
Turns out, security wasn’t just loose — it didn’t exist. Locks? Broken. Cameras? Not monitored. Employees? Suspended. And now, a group of guys are loose in the wild, with murder charges and homemade escape tactics.
Three of them were finally apprehended—Myles, Moody, and Dennis. The rest? Well, they’re still at large, likely arguing over who gets to play whom in the inevitable Netflix miniseries.
The Conspiracy Spice: Inside Job?
Now here’s the juicy part. There’s suspicion that this whole thing may have had help from inside.
Faulty locks? Nobody noticing it for 7 hours? Come on, even a half-asleep raccoon would have set off more security.
Three workers were suspended, which in retail speak is essentially “we think you did something, but we don’t want to get sued just yet.” Investigators are now exploring if someone left several doors unlocked on purpose—or simply didn’t care anymore.
Faction-Style Backstory: Let’s Pretend This is a Sitcom Episode
Let’s pretend this in a Faction Universe (you know, like your retail tale):
Ten misfits stuck in a busted system. Their leader: Myles—grumpy, genius, always plotting three toilet holes ahead.
The tech expert? Most likely Moody, whose worst offense was telling you how airflow works in a pipe chase.
The “blanket guy,” Dennis, was forever famous for the words, “Trust me, barbed wire won’t hurt you if it’s cozy.
They’d communicate in code, hushed over cryptic meatloaf, using ketchup packets and pilfered crayons to make maps.
There was a daily drill. There was a new hope every guard who over-yawned.
And then the day finally arrived, and they didn’t just break out—they disappeared.
Epilogue: America’s Got Escapes
And here we are. Officials are in a tizzy. Citizens are calling for explanations. And somewhere, a prison guard is most likely regretting that long bathroom break.
Meanwhile, the remaining inmates on the loose? They’re hiding in a crawl space, attempting to blend at a laundromat, or authoring a collective memoir entitled “The Toilet Route: A Journey to Freedom (And Mild Tetanus).
Either way, the only crazier thing than the way they escaped… is that they managed to get away with it.
