Saturday, September 30, 2006

The Trial - Part Three

We entered into the courtroom with a renewed sense of....gusto or something. I walked up to the witness stand and took my seat. Tim sat down at the defense table. We looked at each other and nodded. I looked back over at Brick, ready to go. Tim dropped his head into his hands.

"I ask you again, Mr. Griffin. Did you kill Bob Hopper?" Brick questioned.

"Yes, he deserved to die and I hope he burns in Hell!" Wait, that was what I said in my head, in a perfect Samuel L. Jackson voice, but what came out in the courtroom was, "Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, yes, I stomped on Bob. I took my steel-toed, Wolverine work boot and dropped it right down on top of him. His guts spilled all over my driveway. But the real injustice is that I haven't had a place to park my car for over a week! The police have had the whole area taped off. I hear they even sent the body in for an autopsy. It seems to me that the law is going through way too much trouble for those people."

The crowd gasped.

"Those people, Mr. Griffin? I suppose you mean Latter Day Saints? Or are you referring to Bob's, may he rest in peace, homosexual son? Or perhaps you just hate Grasshoppers in general?"

I was wondering to myself why he capitalized 'grasshoppers'. But he was right up in my face now and the judge, jury and audience were all awaiting my response. I couldn't stay lost in syntax; no, I had to defend myself. "No, I don't hate Grasshoppers," I said, fully aware of my capitalization despite my beliefs against it, "Some of the best people I know are Grasshoppers....uh...Caine from Kung Fu...Jiminy Cricket."

The crowd gasped again.

Brick Johnson jumped on the opportunity, "I suppose Crickets and Grasshoppers are all the same to you, right Mr. Griffin?"

"Objection, your honor," Tim said. I wondered if he had been sleeping this whole time. "Counsel is being argumentative and is badgering my client."

"Objection sustained. Mr. Johnson, please refrain from attacking the defendant," said the judge.

Yes, do refrain from attacking me. This judge is a smart man.

"I'm sorry your honor," Brick said, "I have no further questions." He took a seat.

"We will now hear the closing arguements. Mr. Johnson." Judge Judge said.

Brick rose triumphantly. He took his place in front of the jury and delivered his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The case you have heard today is one of great tragedy, a tragedy brought about my one man. An evil, vile man. A selfish and inconsiderate man. A man who can't even be called a man. But I ask you, don't let your emotions and personal hatred toward Mr. Griffin affect your judgment. Today's trial is about blame. Bob died, he was murdered. By whom? Who's to blame? We all know the answer to that. Mr. Griffin plead not guilty. He even lied on the stand about meeting Bob. However, only after having nowhere else to hide did he admit the truth. He killed Bob. He widowed the poor Mrs. Hopper. Now that you know who is to blame, bring back the emotion. Do you want a man like that out on the streets? Able to stomp at any moment? Supressing all our hops with his work boot of bigotry and evil. I'm a hoppy man today because I know what hoppened will not go unpunished. Our legal system will work. Justice will prevail!"

After a momentary gasp, the crowd broke out into thunderous applause. Brick took his seat, "Beat that, loser," he whispered to Tim.

"You have the floor, Mr. Pratt," said the judge.

Tim rose. He walked toward the jury as he began.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm not going to fill my arguement with puns involving the word 'hop'. No, because to me, this case wasn't about the fact Bob Hopper was a Grasshopper. The prosecution won't let you forget it. They filled their case with propaganda, labeling my client a bigot who killed out of hatred of Grasshoppers. You see, my client admitted to stomping on Bob, but you have to keep in mind that my client is never serious about anything. He often times lies for the pure amusement of it. What he told you today was a lie. He did not stomp Bob. Even his foot lied to you when it fit in the boot. My client couldn't make a true statement if a life sentence depended on it. So it should be obvious to you that if my client, the liar that he is, said he killed Bob, then he couldn't have killed Bob and the true murderer is out there still. Only by aquitting Mr. Griffin can you begin to find who's really responsible. My client is confident you'll make the right decision because, as he put it, you're 'all a bunch of smart heads'. Prove to me and the world that you are the smart heads Mr. Griffin believes you to be and aquit my client of these preposterous and slanderous charges."

No gasping. Complete silence filled the room as Tim took his seat.

"Alright then," said the judge, "The jury can now go into deliberation. We will convene back here once a decision is..."

"Your honor," one of the jury said, "We've reached a verdict."

"Well, that was unusually quick. How do you find the defendant?"

"Um, I guess we'd use the phone book, but if he's not listed, then I have no idea."

"I mean what's your verdict?"

"Oh. We the jury find the defendant not guilty on all counts."

The courtroom burst into an uproarous fit. I gave Tim a high five.

Stunned, the judge asked, "Why?"

"Well, we didn't really like the DA's name. Brick? What kind of name is that?"

Ah, finally, justice prevails.

CONCLUDED