And Justice for Nothing

That Jerry Nascar is a dangerous motherfucker. Dangerous as in smart. And, he plays with fireworks and only has a total of seven fingers. But I wasn't talking about that at all—I just mean he's smart.

My trial started three weeks ago, the libel case, where I'm being sued by Jayme Kristofson for calling her words I shouldn't repeat here. Not until I win, and can say them wherever I damn well please. It's an inevitability with Jerry Nascar as my attorney. This guy must have taken every law class they have at Pine Bluffs Community College, 'cause he knows all the tricks. He parked his car in a handicapped space in front of the courthouse and then put a sign on it saying "no engine." How ingenious is that? Technically, the car is handicapped now. That's what lawyers call a "loophole." And Jerry's got more holes than he knows what to do with.

It was Jerry's idea I wear the neckbrace—which I would have done if I had gone to court for a traffic accident, I'm no dummy, but Jerry says you can get neck injuries from anything, even emotional stress, and it never hurts to get crowd sympathy. The judge has even gotten mad at Jerry because he talks to the gallery instead of her, turning to the large number of people and saying stuff like, "You can see what all this huss'n'fuss has done to my client's verbitry—her neck is all outta a-whackment."

Jerry loves surprise witnesses. Sometimes I think they're more for his sake than for mine. He calls people out of the phone book ahead of time and gets them to show up, but they have no idea why. That's the surprise. So they get up there and Jerry asks them questions about what they do, what's their area of expertise. Then the questions get real juicy—do you own any sexy underwear? Have you gone all the way on the first date? You would be surprised how far he gets before the judge says the witness has no relevancy. But you gotta admire his guts.

But he's doing Jayme some damage, too. He somehow wrangled it where Jayme had to wear the Metallichick costume on the stand, and then asked her if she thought she had the figure to pull it off. Under oath, she completely broke down and admitted she didn't. That's got to help the case, if the Honor can look at the big picture.

Jerry may have finally crossed the line last week when he announced he was calling witnesses from the Kennedy assassination to "put this whole mess to rest, once and for all." The judge told him she was sick of his bullshit, so to speak, and demanded he make his final arguments for this particular case, after which she was going to talk to the Bar Association and find out just what bar they held their meetings at. But that was all fine, a bit of a slump for Jerry, but he started into the final summary of the case.

When Jerry launched his closing arguments, brilliance is the only word that comes to mind. He approached the jury and his hands clapped together, then moved to his waist, then waved in the air, then clapped together again. And his words were good, too. He said something like, "What is a 'dildo,' ladies and gentleman of the jury? Who doesn't like a dildo? Tell me that. I fail to see where my client's compliment can even be misconstructed as an insult. Plus, I think if you knew her, you would have called her dildo. Everyone knows she's a pain in the ass."

At that point the judge had to tell Jerry it wasn't a jury trial, and he was delivering his closing remarks to the plaintiff table. Jayme didn't look none too happy, but was too busy crying to tell him off. It's all incidental, I'm sure. I got a good feeling this thing's going to go my way, if the judge ever gets back from deliberating. Or maybe she did, while I was writing this column—do any of you dildos have the time?

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