Return of the Troll

Troll came back from his all expense paid trip to the infirmary. He was content in his cell for a few days. I was doing count. On the hour we look in the window of every cell to make sure the inmate is alive and still secure. It was 4 in the morning. He was wide awake. While on his vacation he though they would keep him longer if he scratched his arm up to look like a rash. It didn't fool anyone. He now has what looks like rug burn on his left forearm. They smeared it with ointment. He asked me for a band aid. I almost laughed. A dishwashers glove to the elbow secured with duct tape would suffice...
He threatened to hang himself again if we didn't comply with his wishes. From a few cells over I heard "Try to use a stronger rope this time!" I talked him into taking his mind off his arm by reading a book. There was a relatively thin book sitting on the floor near by. I didn't have the keys to his cuff port. As a general rule there is no need to open their cuff ports after trash time unless there is an emergency. So I opened the book and slid a corner to him.
The doors are sliders. They fit into a groove. I fed the book into the groove and it bent around the door to where he could reach it. I smiled and left. He had enough book on his side of the door to grip it with thumb and fore-finger, just a corner. It would take him the full 50 minutes till next count to work the book past the binding and into his cell. Rough treatment of institutional property versus occupying the attention monger?
At 5 am he was trying to read half a book. He had worked the thing through the door slit up to the binding, but couldn't get it any further. Finally the book had given way to his tugging and ripped. He asked for the other half. I fed him a corner. I left to start my 2 days off at 6 am.

I am now back. Troll is not here. Apparently he was so worked up last night that he threatened to hang himself again. The officers called for some back-up when he grabbed his stubby rubber pen and began threatening to stab everyone. Who gave him a pen?
He followed through at just after 9 pm. He stabbed the only person he could reach, being single celled. He may have been trying to puncture a lung, but only embedded the writing device about half an inch, between two of his ribs. There was blood. Medical was called. He wouldn't cuff up for treatment. Swat was almost called. Finally he calmed down and just before 10 pm he was escorted on another trip to the lavish infirmary. When ever he wants a vacation, he forces one.