This place...it looks...familiar.
What? Hey! We already did this scene! I swear, if I'm forced to go through the "old man making very unsubtle approaches to question the protagonist's sexual orientation" thing again, I'm going to call my agent for a better deal!
Everything is the same! My old bread and can of water are right there where I left them.
The old shackles are still there.
The old secret escape tunnel is still there.
My old piss stain is still in the same corner. Haven't they heard of cleaning maids in this prison?
The lighting conditions still suck.
And even the same annoying pencil neck is still in the cell next to me. Oh, what I would give, if only the old door in my cell wouldn't still be...
...locked?
Yoohoo!
Stupid pencil neck hasn't learned a thing, it seems.
Namely that I don't like talky people in my hangover mornings.
Howdy.
Ah, sweet freedom! I even got my stuff back after the guards couldn't stand comparing their tiny daggers to my personal claymore. Life is good!