Welcome to About Time

About Time is the national newspaper for Australian prisons and detention facilities

Your browser window currently does not have enough height, or is zoomed in too far to view our website content correctly. Once the window reaches the minimum required height or zoom percentage, the content will display automatically.

Alternatively, you can learn more via the links below.

Donations via GiveNow

Email

Instagram

LinkedIn

Donate Here

Creative

Jesus DMC – Based on a True Story

By

John

John writes from Port Phillip Prison, Victoria.

Eric Stoynov via Unsplash

This is a story about Jesus DMC (Da Mouse Christ).

Rob (my cellie) and I were about to go to sleep one miserable cold night, and a mouse (Jesus DMC) died and went up to the pearly gates and knocked. St Peter opened the gates and said, “Ahh, Jesus DMC, I’ve been waiting for you. Tell me, what happened to you? I really want to know.”

Jesus DMC said, “Well, I broke into Port Phillip Prison, ya know. One miserable cold night, ya know. And snuck into a cell, ya know. And there was a spare bed, ya know. So I stashed myself under it, ya know. And there were two green blokes in there, ya know. One Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke, ya know. And a Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, ya know”

St Peter stood in front of the gates and said, “Hmm, please please us Jesus DMC and tell us more.”

Da Mouse Christ continued. “Well, then the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine chucked what appeared to be half a sweet biscuit near the door, ya know. And it looked okay, so I took a bite, ya know. I was right and it was half a sweet biscuit, you know. So I continued to eat it, ya know. Gotta fuel the machine, ya know what I mean?”

The question was rhetorical and the mouse continued being allegorical, saying “and so the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, looked at the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke and went ‘shh!’ and pointed at me, ya know. Then the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke picked up a great big huge green shoe and went to piff it at me, ya know. But the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine shook his head, ya know. So whilst I was watching, the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke put the great big huge green shoe back on the floor.

“Tell me more!” said St Peter.

“Well, then the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine snuck off behind the other bed and got himself his own little prison, ya know. It was one of those little round green bin things. He put it over the top of me and I panicked, ya know. I put my tiny little hand on my tiny little neck and my tiny little heart was going like a bat outta hell, ya know. Suddenly, I felt myself rising up and looking down, ya know. All I could see was me lying on my back with my tiny little legs pointing up, ya know. Then I heard the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke and the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, laughing! And so, I ended up here with you, ya know.”

St Peter then said, ‘That sounds a bit far fetched son, but come in anyway. I believe you.”

The End.

This is a story about Jesus DMC (Da Mouse Christ).

Rob (my cellie) and I were about to go to sleep one miserable cold night, and a mouse (Jesus DMC) died and went up to the pearly gates and knocked. St Peter opened the gates and said, “Ahh, Jesus DMC, I’ve been waiting for you. Tell me, what happened to you? I really want to know.”

Jesus DMC said, “Well, I broke into Port Phillip Prison, ya know. One miserable cold night, ya know. And snuck into a cell, ya know. And there was a spare bed, ya know. So I stashed myself under it, ya know. And there were two green blokes in there, ya know. One Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke, ya know. And a Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, ya know”

St Peter stood in front of the gates and said, “Hmm, please please us Jesus DMC and tell us more.”

Da Mouse Christ continued. “Well, then the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine chucked what appeared to be half a sweet biscuit near the door, ya know. And it looked okay, so I took a bite, ya know. I was right and it was half a sweet biscuit, you know. So I continued to eat it, ya know. Gotta fuel the machine, ya know what I mean?”

The question was rhetorical and the mouse continued being allegorical, saying “and so the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, looked at the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke and went ‘shh!’ and pointed at me, ya know. Then the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke picked up a great big huge green shoe and went to piff it at me, ya know. But the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine shook his head, ya know. So whilst I was watching, the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke put the great big huge green shoe back on the floor.

“Tell me more!” said St Peter.

“Well, then the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine snuck off behind the other bed and got himself his own little prison, ya know. It was one of those little round green bin things. He put it over the top of me and I panicked, ya know. I put my tiny little hand on my tiny little neck and my tiny little heart was going like a bat outta hell, ya know. Suddenly, I felt myself rising up and looking down, ya know. All I could see was me lying on my back with my tiny little legs pointing up, ya know. Then I heard the Great Big Fat Huge Green Bloke and the Shifty Looking Little Green Bloke with a furry face like mine, laughing! And so, I ended up here with you, ya know.”

St Peter then said, ‘That sounds a bit far fetched son, but come in anyway. I believe you.”

The End.

This
piece
was originally printed in the
June 2025
edition of About Time.

Lanie's Painting

By Lanie

A painting sent to us by Lanie.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 25

1 MIN READ

Dan’s Drawing

By Dan

A drawing of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, sent to us by Dan.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 25

1 MIN READ

Self Reflection

By Sofia

Often I try to self-reflect which turns into waves of rings around me. This picture reflects my days in general; life is static, surrounded by waves around.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 25

1 MIN READ

Beyond the Steel Mesh

By Anonymous

The cage stands bold, with its steel-clad mesh. For within its grip, it’s us it holds. Ten foot walls, of cold creme concrete. For outside we muster, like horses in stalls.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 25

2 MIN READ