Even the most ardent celebrity hater must have struggled to contain their sympathy last month when former child star Lindsay Lohansson was released from chokey following a six week stretch for pissing on the Alamo. As she left jail - bruised, humiliated and looking like she'd ingested enough drugs to stun a fat elephant - the watching world couldn't help but feel for the fallen Vice Versa star. However, despite cutting such a broken figure, it has come to my attention that perhaps her spell inside wasn't quite the ordeal she claims. Indeed, for all the disturbing tales of folding her own bedsheets, having to share a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut with other inmates and most disturbingly, developing lock-jaw as a result of all the cunnilingus she was forced to perform on an endless parade of denim clad fur-burglars, there appears to be something the tri-curious starlet isn't telling us. For I have it on good authority that far from being the victim of bullying during her two month sentence, within days at New York's notorious San Quentin prison she had orchestrated a violent coup and risen to the rank of TOP DOG!

A fellow jailbird released the same week as Lohanssen told me of the reign of terror unleashed by the hellraiser within hours of entering the famous island prison. She had barely unpacked her toothbrush and Buffy posters before word got out she'd sent the governor a message informing him of her absolute refusal to see ANY visitors throughout her entire fortnight's stay. When word reached Lohansson later that day that her husband Burt Reynolds had been allowed onto the premises she was livid. That afternoon in the dining hall Lohansson deliberately sparked a mini-riot by accusing another inmate, Ministry Of Sound pioneer Phil Spencer, of looking up her skirt while she bent down to pick up a dollop of mashed potato.

Spencer, who had recently clawed her way to the status of E-wing's Queen Bee, didn't take kindly to being labelled a nonce and a skirmish quickly erupted. However, unbeknown to the crazy-haired murderess, Lohansson had came tooled up - within seconds she produced a pair of tights filled with snooker balls and battered Spencer half to death. Predictably the screws arrived at the scene too late to witness the beating, and it's believed that when the best Spencer could offer as an explanation for her severe head injuries was that she 'wasn't used to the concrete floor' the warders gave her another pummelling for good measure.

While Lohanssen and the other prisoners were sent back to their cells, Reynolds was politely told by guards that he would not be able to see his wife that day or indeed for the rest of her year long term. The grizzled action man was furious, especially as he'd had to take an unpaid day off from filming Marvel's Green Hornet adaptation to make the trek to the south coast prison, something old school, no-nonsense director Alistair Campbell was none too pleased with. Already down a day's pay, the American Pie actor now had to face the lonely journey back to the outer space Green Hornet set with the added confusion of not knowing precisely why his adoring lesbian wife refused to see him. It is now painfully apparent however, that she did it for his own good.

For a month earlier, while Lohansson was being held in custody for two days at LA's notorious Wentworth penitentiary, she received a visit from her good friend and Lost In Space co-star Dan Aykroyd. When word got out that the man responsible for the shower of shite that was Heathcliffe - The Movie was in the building all hell broke loose. In a scene reminiscent of something from Aykroyd's own Monster Squad, a gang of rabid, blood-thirsty criminals broke free from their cells and headed for the reception desk, violent retribution the only thing on their crazy minds. Thankfully Lohansson herself managed to talk the brutal thugs out of it by promising to treat them to a pizza-and-video-night as well as a visit to the set of her next movie, Herbie's Bonnet as soon as their impending trials for multiple rape and murder were over.

Clearly not wanting her husband to be put at risk, Lohansson effectively cut her self off from Reynolds for his own safety. And with good reason too, for as the weeks progressed she appeared to take a leaf out of her DC super villain Catwoman's book and brutally consolidated her position as the Daddy Slut of San Quentin.

Little is known about the exact details of her meteoric rise to power but the fact remains that less than a week into her sentence Lohansson had gained complete control of Spencer's snout racket, became the sole supplyer of illegal contraband, acquired a cell fitted with lampshades, a grammaphone and two budgies, and most tellingly, was soon operating the press in the laundry room, a position previously occupied by multiple-murderess and former Top Dog Yvonne Atkins, since mysteriously transferred to Barnhurst.

According to my source, as the weeks progressed Lohansson guarded that press like a cougar, sucking on gold-filtered pink cigarettes while her pathetic minions 'kept toot', all the while harbouring suspicions as to how a seemingly harmless alcoholic actress could rise to power so swiftly. The answer however, is simple. Far from fighting the system, Lohansson had been working within it from day one. As a GRASS!

Few were surprised when the famous Hollywood starlet was initially given such perks as a single cell and a cushy job in the library. However, alarm bells were ringing on her second day when Lohansson was allowed 8 hours leave to go to the premiere of her latest film, the Rodney Rodriguez slasher flick Breadknife. Not only did she attend the after-show party (in which she danced the night away with co-star Al Pacino), but didn't return to prison until the early hours, when she proceeded to raid the governer's quarters and make a right old mess of his pantry. Much to her fellow inmates dismay, Lohansson escaped formal punishment, and was told the matter would be dropped if she wiped the biscuit crumbs off the bench and put the fridge magnets back in their right place. Of course, the fact that earlier that morning the wayward actress had SANG LIKE A BIRD when questioned about a missing tin of pineapple chunks might have had something to do with it.

For unbeknown to the other poor wretches serving hard time in San Marino, a routine cell inspection in search of the canned fruit panicked Lohansson so severely she caved in and pinned the blame squarely on fellow celebrity jailbird OJ Simpson.

Crazed Simpson, serving time for stealing a load of old tat from a Vegas casino (and resolutely NOT for the brutal killing of his wife and her lover, which as big pal Whoopi Goldfinger rightly claimed, wasn't murder-murder anyway) had pilfered the pineapple chunks from the kitchen the day before. He bragged to his cell-mate that he planned to eat the sickly contents then use the sharp edge of the tin to slice through his bars and escape to freedom. Or as he put it, to track down his Naked Ape co-star Dennis Nielsen and 'kick fuck out of him'.

Thankfully, an embarassing breakout plus the loss of a revered conedy legend was averted thanks to Lohansson's stool pigeon antics. Simpson's plan was immediately foiled and he was sent to solitary where he remains to this day, biting his toenails, crying and mumbling about 'faces in the curtains'. And all in the name of Lohansson assuring her place in history as one of the most feared women ever to set foot in Santa Cruz State Prison.

There is however, one crumb of comfort for the likes of Simpson, Spencer and the countless other prisoners who lived in constant fear during her tenure. Rumour has it DC Studio bosses heads are in a spin after the actress struggled to complete the gruelling action sequences on the set of JJ Abrams' new X-Men movie. And my impeccably placed source has revealed that, since leaving prison, Lohannsson has found it difficult to deal with even the most simple physical tasks - such as opening a door or sitting down - without the help of an assistant. Some may simply see this as yet another set of ridiculous diva-demands from a pampered, insecure celebrity. Which is true. But would you be at all surprised by her poor physical shape if I told you when she was doing stir her entourage consisted of the roughest, toughest bitches this side of a Nolan Sisters re-union? A motley assortment of deadly dykes with leather faces and sandpaper tongues who catered to her every whim? And that during her spot of porridge she had her tuppence licked more times than a puppy's neck?

Ouch. Swings and roundabouts, kids.