"Hey, Bernie! So nice to meet you at last. Welcome to Leavenworth! I'm Sergeant Justice and I'll be handling your processing and orientation as a newbie inmate here."

Please call me Mr. Madoff.

"Nah, I think not, Bernie. There are alot of things me and the staff have discussed calling you, but it seems Bernie is all we could find that's allowed under our policy regulating the humane treatment of prisoners. As for 'Mister,' it is a title that conveys a degree of respect, and so that was determined to be inappropriate as well."

Well, okay. Bernie will work. My friends call me Bernie after all.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Bernie. You have no friends here. At least, not yet. Let's see what happens as more indictments are handed out and trials are convened in New York in the near future."

I'm glad to at last get to talk to someone in charge here. Can I please get into a change of clothes? I've had these on since leaving New York this morning, and I want to get comfortable.

"You're reading my mind Bernie! Comfort, after all, is what we are all about here at Leavenworth. So here are your first three jumpsuits, and that should keep you in clothes for a week. Hope you like orange. The color is a bit overstated, to be sure, but I promise you they will lose some of the 'neon orange' quality with repeated washings."

What about the wardrobe my wife had packed and sent via United Van Lines? It should have arrived earlier this week. Can't I just wear some of those clothes instead? Maybe at least my pajamas and my smoking jacket along with a couple pairs of slacks and casual shirts?

"Sorry, Bernie, but I'm afraid we are all prisoners of fashion here, if you'll pardon the pun. The inmates have been pretty much locked into orange as our fashion statement for a number of years now, ever since the Governor's wife decided the black-n-white stripe outfits were too austere. 'Let's introduce some color!' she said, and so we did. You'll like the orange look, I promise."

And so what about my wardrobe?

"Oh, that? Well, we couldn't just sign for it here, so the Warden picked through what he though maybe he could use, and then the driver was instructed to take the rest down to St. Vincent's. If you ever get out of here, you can probably buy the stuff back real cheap - that is if any of it is still left. For now, it seems the homeless hereabouts and in Kansas City are looking rather dapper these days. In fact, one poor bum commonly seen at night under a newspaper sleeping bag in the park was mistaken for a hedge fund manager/financial advisor in his new threads and was run outta' town on a rail."

The Warden picked through the clothes you say?

"Oh, yeah, right. And he told me to tell you he really appreciated the contribution as well. For the future, however, he wants you to know that he's closer to a size 10 shoe rather than the 9-and-a-halfs you included. And he prefers snakeskin to ostrich skin, although the pink oxfords were quite the topic of conversation at the American Legion Fish Fry last night. The Warden, I guess he was stylin' from all accounts, and they now got those shoes exhibited on the backbar. They'll probably raffle them off, along with the two stuffed jackalopes and the rest of the curiosities they've collected over the last year."

"Oh, and I was supposed to ask about the golf clubs. Surely you didn't think you'd be using those here, did you?"

Well, no, not exactly. You see, I was under the impression that I was going to be confined to a different kind of facilty than this... ummmm... something a little more, ah, 'refined' let's say or even more 'civilized' than Leavenworth...

"You got something against us here at Leavenworth Bernie? You think me and the boys maybe ain't civilized enough for you?"

Oh, no. Don't get me wrong. I think you guys are all swell. No problems with any of you I've met so far. Just a bunch of stand-up guys, I can tell. It's just that...

"Well, that's good, Bernie. It wouldn't serve you well to start your visit out here by insulting the staff who will be working so hard to make your visit a memorable one."

Oh, I understand all that, alright. It's just that I was led to believe that my incarceration would be in a facility that was more like a simple residential home, with opportunities for healthy recreation and maybe even a library and classes and other opportunities to expand one's knowledge and experiences.

"You mean like one of the 'Country Club Prisons' or a 'Club Fed' as we like to call them, Bernie?"

Well, yeah.

"Sorry, Bernie, but Leavenworth ain't no Country Club. But you will get opportunity for recreation, a few hours each day in the prison yard. As for expanding experiences, I'm sure some of the boys in the yard will be more than happy to introduce you to some activities guaranteed to stretch even more than your mind. In fact, I'd suggest you quickly pick just who you might consider serving as their exclusive 'girlfriend' if you wish to limit the number of 'mind-blowing' experiences you will get in the first few weeks here."

Now, just wait a cotton picking minute! Don't you know who you are talking to? I've had the best attorneys money can buy, and they assured me that my time would be spent in a far more civilized place than this. Leavenworth is for losers, fer chrissakes, not for the well placed in society such as me and others who can afford to buy and sell people like you a hundred times over. Let me talk to my attorney!

"You know, Bernie? Me and the boys kinda' thought the same things ourselves when we saw you were going to be included here among our inmates. Thinking it was perhaps a mistake, we put a call into your attorneys for ourselves. He said it was no mistake. The judge and he worked out Leavenworth as being the appropriate place to send you. He also wanted you to know that there are no hard feelings for the hundreds of thousands of dollars that were lost by him and his family in your investment program."

Why, that sonofabitch! I paid him well, and he promised he would make sure that I only served easy time in a Country Club, not spending the rest of my life in hell here at Leavenworth. Even the Judge seemed to be fully on board with the plan. I would NEVER have pleaded guilty if I knew my time was going to be spent here!

"Oh, the horror, Bernie! You mean to tell me that these people you trusted with your future actually lied to you and now cause you to suffer unforeseen indignities and uncertainties and a much more painful existence than anything you could have imagined? How could anything like that have ever happened?

"But try not to worry about it too much, Bernie. I see you are to be here for 150 years, or the rest of your life. Me and the boys will be here for all of it to look out for your interests. Whereas some of us were planning retirement in the years to come, we'll now be here for the entire duration because of the loss of the union pension funds invested in your portfolio. Yeah, we're actually kinda looking forward to being here just for you, Bernie. Enjoy your stay at Leavenworth, and don't hesitate letting me know if there is anything I or the boys can do for you."