Kids,
When I was in Law School I had the opportunity to clerk at the local District Court. Sometimes things will happen to you or around you that are just pure chance and are hilarious. When this happens, pay attention.
One such time, I was working especially hard on a most difficult case (see this post is already hilarious), when a Judge came down to the basement of the Court House where we law clerks were unceremoniously stuffed. (We had no windows to prove it was still daylight outside. We called it the Justice Cave). He explained that his next case was probably going to be entertaining because the defendant had decided it would be a good defense strategy to scream at different judge in a different matter. Apparently, the defendant, who we will call "Melvin" had used all kinds of colorful language to describe the previous judge and she was... less than pleased. I'm pretty sure he was held in contempt and, in all likelihood, he extended his sentence quite a bit. But, for us who had not seen the sun, this sounded like a fantastic break from our usual day of writing and reading, I mean who wouldn't want to see some crazy guy freak out in a court room?
The public defender was the only one in the court room when four law clerks piled into the back to watch what was surely going to be a really bad day for this poor public defender. He knew what we were up to. He looked clearly defeated. He asked us, "Are you guys here for the show?" We explained we were law clerks and part of our job was that we had to opportunity to watch court every once and a while. He said, "Yeah, alright. Well since you’re here to learn, the theme for my argument today is 'why I should have gone to medical school.'" He was having a rough week. Little did he know his week was going to get so much better, but I'll get to that. The prosecutor came in, looked at the defense attorney and just started laughing. The poor public defender looked already defeated. The prosecutor asked what the defense attorney had done when Melvin started on his tirade. The public defender replied, "I just kept my head down and pretended like I was taking notes. It was all I could do."
The defendant was then brought into the court room. He was a short man. Clean shaven. Not at all what I was expecting from a man who was on trial for criminal threat, because he pointed a knife at someone’s throat. OH, yeah, "allegedly" pointed a knife. (Whew! can't forget that one).
The Judge came in, and we all stood out of respect. Even Melvin.
The Prosecution called his first witness, who was the victim. Again, not what I was expecting. The victim, who we will call Bud, was in his late 50's, had a completely gray mullet down half of his back, a creepy mustache, and was wearing a fine brown t-shirt that stated plainly his identity,
"Muggle."
(As my kids will know, but some readers may not a muggle is a non-magical person from Harry Potter.)
During the non-magical direct examination we learned both Melvin and Bud were homeless. They lived outside a third man’s home who would occasionally rent the back room to these gentlemen. The landowner had two daughters. (The source of the gentlemen's conflict. See this is almost Shakespearean). Bud had made an inappropriate comment about one of the daughters figure which he unceremoniously repeated, verbatim, to the courtroom. (… This is for my kids… and it is on the internet, on a blog where I talk about Jesus a lot… so maybe I should omit this part.)
…Ok I can’t help myself. The daughters were twins and Bud explained that one had walked out and then went back in, then the other twin daughter walked out.
Bud paused… “How do I explain this delicately…Well this daughter, she had BIG ol Titties!”
“And seeing them big ol’ titties on the second daughter that tweren’t there before, I said, ‘where’d those come from!” (Kids and Jesus forgive me 😉)
Bud continued his harrowing story of how Melvin and he had gotten into an argument about the landlord's daughter, because Melvin was defending the second daughter’s honor from such statements and cat calling. Bud continued to explain, only to pause every once and a while, stare at the Defendant and declare, "WELL THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED MELVIN! I'M SORRY IT COME TO THIS, BUT THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED."
Then we came to the climax of the story.
Melvin had drawn his knife and stuck it to Bud's throat, in defense of the buxomed daughter!
The prosecutor asked the crucial question in a criminal threat case, "Now, when the defendant had the knife to your throat, were you scared he might stab you?" He pointed back at Melvin dramatically. (This is important because one of the elements of the crime is that he was in fear or apprehension of bodily harm.) (Also, Objection! Leading! Anyone? )
Bud sits and thinks. He thinks some more. Something about that phrase bothers him. "Was I scared?," he thinks silently to himself.
He responds to the court room, saving, in his mind, his dignity, "Nah...I wasn't scared." (Insert Perry Mason Gasp) (Well...if Perry Mason defended muggles.)
The once proud and confident prosecutor is taken aback. He tries to rehabilitate his witness and ask the question in different ways. Nope. Bud was not afraid. Out of frustration the solicitor finally blurts out, “Why weren’t you scared when you had a knife pointed at your throat!”
"No, ya see, I had a rail spike...in my back pocket. I knew that if Melvin tried to get me, I could, *motions stabbing to the court room* get 'em." (SERIOUSLY HE MADE A STABBING MOTION IN THE COURT ROOM. Presumably to demonstrate his considerable nimbleness.) That's right, our harmless homeless neighborhood Bud, carries with him a rail-spike, but fear not, it’s only for defense against Melvin (who doesn’t appreciate cat calling). Well now that the prosecution’s case was shot to hell, the Defense counsel now looked like he no longer regretted his chosen profession! On his cross examination we heard all about the rail spike and its defensive capabilities. And how it made Bud impervious to fear. Bud was practically a super hero defending the streets from up tight evil with his rail spike by the end of the cross. (Maybe that's just in my mind: Bud, who's secret identity is "spike-man"! The silver-mulleted, albeit non-magical, man with a mustache, keeping our streets safe.) Now the prosecution called Melvin to the stand. ..whose meandering testimony featured, his favorite drink of choice, Earthquake. (12.5% alcohol per volume for only 2 bucks, they call it a "High Gravity Lager" I think they mean: "high tectonic stress lager" but I won't fault them for mixing metaphors, their target market is homeless people and college students. Markets that, by the way, overlap a lot...) Another major issue in the case became why Melvin cussed out the police when they arrested him. The answer was simple to Melvin: they made him put down his taco in order to handcuff him. Rude. I think this is only explained by the fact that the prosecutor was bored or depressed he was losing or something, but we heard more about that taco than I ever thought possible in a court of law. Made me hungry. But alas, nothing in Melvin's testimony could save the prosecution’s case, not even the taco. (Not to mention Melvin had awareness enough to realize things were going well for him and cussing out the judge was not presently a luxury in which he could indulge). The victorious public defender made a motion to dismiss which was granted. I never learned what happened after that hearing with the other charges. But I like to think that Bud and Melvin buried the hatchet, (or rail spike, as the case may be) and made amends over a taco and earthquake.
There's not really a moral to this story. Except, there's nothing I love more than telling (and retelling) or hearing a good story. Go dive into life and collect your own stories. Have fun. See the humor in the every day. Have a taco and an earthquake.
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