Jury duty.
I went a little mad with power. Declared everyone guilty: The judge, the prosecutor, the bailiff, the court reporter. Then the judge again.
“You’re not regular guilty,” I told her. “It’s a prima facie case! A plantar fasciitis case! You’re extra-guilty! Doubly guilty! Triply guilty! Tripoli guilty – and they’re guilty as heck on the shores of Tripoli. You’re super-duper cranial guilty!” (“Cranial” confused her, as I knew it would, and which confirmed her guilt.)
For reasons unknown, I was not selected to serve on a jury. But I have a badge now, mister – a badge and an attitude, so mess with me at your own peril. Ya guilty bastard.
