Being a prisoner of war sucks. You’re often abused, you rarely get to speak with people from home and when you even try through messages in bottles of various forms of decorate glassware cast out to sea they just bring the glass back and make you eat it. Every day is just suck, suck, suck.
That is, except when one of the prisoners has a birthday. Then they bring out the cake and eat it right in front of you. It’s the best day because it makes you feel like you’re eating cake. And also because the guards, pussies they are, think that eating cake in front of you is actually a sort of punishment instead of a reprieve from the constant beatings. Also they abandon their guns, briefly, during the cake-eating ritual.
Which doesn’t seem that cool, until you realize how friendly that native boy from nearby is, and how much he hates Japanese people who still think it’s World War II and think white water rafters are secret American commandos too. Factor in how little attention the guards pay to him and you’ll have those guns in your hands in minutes, and those guards pumped full of bullets in seconds. Now if only you knew where the key was!
Congratulations Prisoners of War!
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