Villain is a tacky word

As I lay awake in my cell, I listen to the bells strike twelve. There's some raucous partying going on in the group cells, but I'm in solitary confinement. Not because of anything I did, just because I'm dangerous, and if I get drunk, i’ll be uncontrollable. So I'm in my cell, not particularly sad I'm missing the party, because I have more important things to do: Every year I make a list of new year resolutions. I never break my resolutions, but I never really complete them either. Last year, my plans were to turn the prisoners into a pack of raving, hungry, terrific wolves by spiking their Christmas punch, but I added too much sugar to the mixture, and they all turned into sweet little poodles. As you can imagine, I've been here quite a long time. This year, though, is going to be different. I'm going to drive my therapist insane. There's not much that can scare a therapist who works at a penitentiary for uncontrollably mad beasts, but on the other hand, if they're expecting beasts, I most likely will surprise them with my guile. The bells finally finish chiming: it's the new year! Time to set my plan in action. I pick the lock with my fingernails while thinking about how this jail needs more funding if it's expected to actually keep the prisoners inside. I stroll out to the party area, and I wonder how this is possibly allowed. Of course, I know the answer. The guards are all on their holiday break, or out partying in town. This is the one day of the year when absolutely anyone could break in or out with ease, but nobody does. The truth is, this is our home now, and It's pretty comfortable as far as prisons go. In fact, because prisons are government funded, we often have more resources than the surrounding towns. Anyway, I go to the center of the party and swagger over to this guy named Jimmy. He used to be a pretty big deal, but now he just drinks all night and thinks about drinks all day. “Sup kid. Why aren't you partying”? He slurs his words together, but I understand him perfectly. “Actually, I needed something.” I say. “Can you distract everybody for at least ten minutes? Just keep them away from the dorms.” He shrugs and nods his head, and as I walk away, I hear him leading a rousing chorus of “Yellow Submarine”. I head toward the dorms, but turn at the last second, glancing behind me to make sure nobody saw. The therapist has chemistry labs back here, and I'm fairly certain It's how he gets people to talk. A lot of people here must have been framed for their crimes, because they simply aren't super villain material. In fact, I'm probably the only legit villain in here. Although, if we’re discussing it, I really hate the word villain; it's so tacky. I pick the lock on the chem labs, but it takes a little longer; I guess the therapist can afford to actually lock his doors. I've never actually been in here before, so I take a while to look around. It's surprisingly clean. A few harmless experiments and a picture of what must be their wife; They must be hiding something. Sure enough, I find a lever in an obscure corner of the desk. This is the real lab. Poking around, I discover a few rather alarming things. First, the therapist absolutely is controlling everybody. Second, their new year resolution is to drive me insane. Well, at least one of these resolutions will be fulfilled.