First, you freeze all inmate accounts, so they’re not allowed to buy anything to supplement the delicious meals you’ll provide them for the next several weeks. Then serve them for breakfast a bag of one fruit, an outdated doughnut packaged in plastic, and a small sandwich bag with cereal, just enough to fill an eight-ounce cup. Add in two pouches of milk and two packs of sweetener, and there you go, a meal fit for a king.

For lunch, search the deepest corners of the freezer, and serve each hungry inmate a snack box with a small pack of pretzels, four mini cookies, an eight-ounce sugar-free drink, four slices of mashed bread, a one-ounce pack of jelly, and a one-ounce pack of peanut butter. Surely four slices are plenty for such a generous quantity of food.

And for dinner search even deeper in that frost pit and find another snack box, frozen to −48 degrees, and serve frigid to the inmates––they won’t mind, they’ll be starving for the sumptuous feast consisting of yet another small pack of mini pretzels, another four mini cookies (a favorite with the inmates), another eight-ounce drink mix (usually grape, with a healthy dose of aspartame), four more slightly crushed slices of bread, and, for a change of pace, a pack of two thinly sliced meats. Serve frozen solid with one slice of packaged cheese, and, if the inmates are good, add an apple.

The FBOP lavishes inmates with such care, such compassion, to meet and exceed the nutritional values for a grown human being, especially during a pandemic, when nutrition is absolutely essential to combatting this deadly virus.

Not only are these meals delicious, they meet every standard of the average third-world country. After several weeks of such fabulous feasts, all the inmates will be so appreciative of the gentleness provided by the federal bureau of prisons––minus a dozen pounds.