Tinfoil Viking Science: All Rise

Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

All Rise

Court tomorrow. I cannot wait. It will truly be the highlight of my week, which, until now, has been bereft of excitement.

I always get an elderly woman as my judge. Instead of looking directly at a given document, she'll tilt her head back and peer down her nose at the paper. She'll hold her glasses away from her face by pinching the frames next to her temple, aiming the glasses down her cheeks. She'll purse her lips into a magenta sphincter and raise her eyebrows in a vain attempt to stretch the foggy cataracts coating her eyes.

When she finally looks up at me and asks why I didn't have my proper documentation handily available for the noble officer of the law, I'll begin to speak. She'll cut me off as soon as I've said "I..." and, nostrils quivering, she'll berate me for my lack of humility and respect. I shaved and wore a polo shirt for this?

After my sentence is given, she'll hand my fine down to the bailiff with her shaky liver spotted claws.

Inevitably defeated, I'll mope over to the bailiff. He always looks funny because his police uniform is busting at the buttons with lard desperately trying to jiggle its way to freedom. He smells like pork rinds and his arms are crossed, resting comfortably on his roiling bellyshelf.

The frown he wears is the result of a clenched ass and suppressed farts, not disdain for the guilty or impatience for lunchtime. When this session ends he'll scamper daintily to the staff washroom and fumigate a claustrophobic stall with an assload of putrid swampgas. As he exits he won't look in the mirror to see his curdled smile or crossed eyes. Hopefully there will be nobody else present to witness this horrible spectacle, to hear his rapid panting, or see his sweat beaded forehead. He won't wash his hands even though they're coated in moist crumbs.

Back in the courtroom. As I walk out, I'll feel vaguely jealous of the souls who afforded themselves a lawyer before attending. I'll wish I had a middle-aged, rapidly balding, necktied agent of the law speaking for me with legal jargon and raccoon saddlebags under his eyes. These financial frankensteins with their paper dervish antics and litigious literacy can really keep a man's record clean. I'm not going to spend five hundred dollars to cancel a pollution emission fine of a hundred. Not practical.

I'll go back to work and steal some candy from the snack box and complete my Friday tasks with an air of distracted defeat and harried impatience.

11:24 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

8 Comments:

March 24, 2005 12:44 PM, Ray Nolan said...: Print this out and slip it into the judge's chambers.
March 24, 2005 4:57 PM, Isabella said...: nice writing.

also, your profile indicates that i am in love with you.

You are the first blogger i have fallen i love with this week. Last week was the Fat Gay. I think he writes as well as you. I'm still debating about the sex change.
March 25, 2005 12:01 AM, Wino McHackenpuke said...: Fire Alarm,

I don't know whether you'd be interested or not, but there is now a vacancy on The Handsomes (http://thehandsomes.blogspot.com/), a blog I post on along with Argus (Fast and Dumb) and, up until his recent disfiguring bus accident, "Ed."

Should you take on the position, your responsibilies will be as follows: Uhmm... Well, there are no responsibilities - you get to post whatever the hell you want, just as we do, in an effort to further the ongoing wonder that is our tripartite of entertainment.
March 25, 2005 9:17 AM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: Simpleton, Lightning, I think I'll try the good old booger flick. I'll try to speckle her spectacles.

Isabella, I'll be right over! Wait a sec... sex change? Uh-oh.

John, when it comes to smarmy buttsqueaks who clumsily wield their petty authority, I am against everything, including shelves.

Wino, I'll check it out and let you know shortly.
March 25, 2005 9:43 AM, Lostinspace said...: hey...not all lawyers are financial frankensteins and balding, ha ha. if i represented you, you would have a hot Asian woman before the court. but oh yeah, you're in Illinois? Hmm. I'm in Cali. That's not going to work.
March 25, 2005 10:01 AM, Dave Morris said...: Did you see Boston Legal last week?

All you need do is somehow, someway give the impression to the octogenarian judge that she has a shot at bedding you.

It will work, because most likely the only sex she gets these days is with a certain bailiff...
March 25, 2005 11:19 AM, Bobby said...: Last time I had to stand tall before the man, I was walking to the entrance of the court building, and just about to walk through the metal detector, when I suddenly remembered I had a metal dope smokin bowl in my pocket - it was that cool kind of bowl that you could screw all apart all interchangeable and put different bowl pieces on and connect two or three resinating chambers in a row to . . . yeah . . . in my pocket - with an eighth stuffed in the chamber getting nice and gummy - - - that's how stupid-eyed I was - the cops sitting at the entrance would have loved that - so I just turned around and walked back to my car and left it there and came back and went through the process
March 27, 2005 11:04 AM, OldHorsetailSnake said...: "haplessness" What a swell word. Can I borrow it sometime to describe myself? You a great writer. Am visiting subsequent to your visit to me. I am posting again; thanks for your best wishes. I will CERTAINLY be back here.