I’m sitting on the witness stand in a stoic country-bumpkin courtroom that looks as if it had been built a couple hundred years ago. It’s stifling hot and humid and there’s no air conditioning. Dusty old wood-blade ceiling fans slowly spin overhead but to no avail. The people watching the trial are all fanning themselves with old-fashioned hand fans. Everyone is dressed in 1920’s drab outfits and the room stinks of sweat and cow manure with a hint of Old Spice.
The attorney for the plaintiff, who looks faintly like old time actor Fredric March, is sweating profusely and barks out at me.
“Just answer the question Mr. Chausse!”, he shouts.
My attorney, who is the spitting image of Spencer Tracy, is sitting at the defense table cradling his head in his hands, nodding woefully as if something had just gone terribly wrong.
“I’m sorry, what is the question?”, I peep out.
“Did you or did you not admit that you crashed your automobile into the plaintiff’s collection of Fabergé eggs!”, the Fredric March doppelganger spits out at me in frustration. “Answer the question…so help you God!”
“Objection!”, the Spenser Tracy look-alike exclaims as he jumps to his feet and points accusingly at the attorney for the plaintiff. Reporters in the back of the courtroom rush towards him and there’s soon a volley of old time flashbulbs on Brownie box cameras popping and flashing.
“Over Ruled.”, states the judge, an ancient crumpled man in flowing robes with a long white beard holding a long golden staff. He looks over to me and says aloud for all to hear while staring me straight in the eyes, “So help you ME!”
Outside, a flash of lightning is accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. Everyone in the courtroom loudly bursts out in unison, “Praise the Lord!”, and begins to clap and sing a rousing hymn. At the plaintiff’s table, the lady who had wailed so vehemently during the accident scene is fanning herself and in the midst of fainting as her redneck husband comes to help prop her up. “My beautiful eggs, my lovely eggs…gone from this world!”, she cries.
The judge slaps his gavel down and proclaims to the court, “Judgment for the plaintiff in the amount of $666 million dollars!” He turns to me again and stares at me sternly. Suddenly his eyes glow bright red and he begins to laugh insanely. The people in the courtroom all stand up together and I see that they are now dressed in Battlestar Galactica Colonial uniforms. They all stare at me and scream out, “So say we all!”
Then I wake up.
The attorney for the plaintiff, who looks faintly like old time actor Fredric March, is sweating profusely and barks out at me.
“Just answer the question Mr. Chausse!”, he shouts.
My attorney, who is the spitting image of Spencer Tracy, is sitting at the defense table cradling his head in his hands, nodding woefully as if something had just gone terribly wrong.
“I’m sorry, what is the question?”, I peep out.
“Did you or did you not admit that you crashed your automobile into the plaintiff’s collection of Fabergé eggs!”, the Fredric March doppelganger spits out at me in frustration. “Answer the question…so help you God!”
“Objection!”, the Spenser Tracy look-alike exclaims as he jumps to his feet and points accusingly at the attorney for the plaintiff. Reporters in the back of the courtroom rush towards him and there’s soon a volley of old time flashbulbs on Brownie box cameras popping and flashing.
“Over Ruled.”, states the judge, an ancient crumpled man in flowing robes with a long white beard holding a long golden staff. He looks over to me and says aloud for all to hear while staring me straight in the eyes, “So help you ME!”
Outside, a flash of lightning is accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. Everyone in the courtroom loudly bursts out in unison, “Praise the Lord!”, and begins to clap and sing a rousing hymn. At the plaintiff’s table, the lady who had wailed so vehemently during the accident scene is fanning herself and in the midst of fainting as her redneck husband comes to help prop her up. “My beautiful eggs, my lovely eggs…gone from this world!”, she cries.
The judge slaps his gavel down and proclaims to the court, “Judgment for the plaintiff in the amount of $666 million dollars!” He turns to me again and stares at me sternly. Suddenly his eyes glow bright red and he begins to laugh insanely. The people in the courtroom all stand up together and I see that they are now dressed in Battlestar Galactica Colonial uniforms. They all stare at me and scream out, “So say we all!”
Then I wake up.