John had, surprisingly, more or less of a low profile since his arrival in the prison. He figured it was best to bite when he was sure the moment was good. See what their mysterious Warden overlords had then pull the rug out from under them. At least that was what he would prefer to do. John didn't do well trapped in confinement - unless he put himself there. Although, he had put himself in an insane asylum before. Maybe he had somehow put himself in this place as well.
The voice of the woman caught his attention. John turned, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, seeing the monstrous pumpkin rolling down the way. The funny thing? He had seen weirder. With a long drag on his cigarette, John pulled it from his lips and addressed the woman.
"I don't suppose you'd want a hand with that," he gestured to the pumpkin.