ensions ran high in the world court this week as prosecutors continued what will undoubtedly be the greatest trial of the century, at least for a long time: The world vs. Kris Kringle, also known as Santa Claus, also known as Father Christmas, et al. It was a trial marked by emotional outbursts and brutal accusations of crimes against humanity.

Kringle, led into the courtroom with his ankles shackled together and a series of elaborate handcuffs binding his hands, sat quiet through most of the prosecution's presentation of evidence. For the defense was world-famous Swedish lawyer Jorgen Fiord, who successfully defended Argentine dentist Emilio Rodriguez in 1996 against charges he was the infamous "Tooth Fairy."

"This man, sitting right here—though he may appear jolly, and have the very glint of holiday joy in his eyes, is at best a worldwide fraud and perpetrator of lies," presented attorney Manfred Hauser for the prosecution. "At worst, he's the greatest terrorist in the history of mankind."

Hauser was referring to the charges levied against the alleged jolly old elf: the first, pretending to provide toys and presents to all the children of the world, when in fact they're bought and delivered by the children's parents; two, attempting to set up a non-profit "holiday" religion by infringing upon the beliefs of Christianity; three, initiating and operating international pyramid schemes of "helpers" on street corners and department stores everywhere; four, cruelty to animals, i.e. specifically the training and illegal housing of endangered reindeer; and five, violating labor laws and international laws against slavery, specifically regarding the livelihood of diminutive people.

Kringle had the entire world on the edge of their seats, awaiting how he would plea, when he finally entered a statement of "not guilty" two weeks ago.

The trial has been the focus of the entire world ever since the world-famous "Santa Claus" was taken into custody last year, Sept. 19, 2012, by Russian soldiers while leading a Chechan rebels' rebellion during his so-called "off season." Tipped off by local naughty boys, soldiers found Kringle hidden beneath a collapsed chimney that he may have been using as a home for as long as six weeks. The U.N. had planned to try Claus in October of this year, but thought given the circumstances they could postpone the event until the holiday season.

The highlight of Thursday's trial included the testimony of an anonymous elf, known only to the jury as "Sprinkles," alleging Kringle used magic powers to extend the days just so he could make his elf workforce work 28-hour shifts. The testimony took a turn for the lewd as the witness alleged, through sobs and comically high-pitched crying, Santa Claus made the workplace even more uncomfortable with the use of a device called a "mistletoe belt buckle."

"Humbug!" exclaimed Kringle, standing up and shaking a green-gloved fist at the video screen. "Complete and utter humbug! And there's no use disguising your voice—I know it's you, Butterscotch! He's a liar, your honor! Check his closet and you'll see—nothing but coal!"

Kringle denounced the trial as a sham, and tried to remind the court of the reason for the season, but was warned by Judge Avril Harkrieger he would be bound and gagged if he didn't keep quiet, and maybe would anyway, if the judge wanted it bad enough.

Each day the trial has been marred by protests outside, middle- to upper-class kids demanded Santa's release, and several children living below the poverty line demanded years worth of retroactive gifts.

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Okay, so it turns out that movie I did over the summer was a hardcore porno. Who knew? Just goes to show you, I guess.

I probably never would have even found out if it weren't for my dad watching it in the living room while mom was hosting her book club. One of the ladies, Ms. Priscilla, pointed at the screen and said, "Oh my goodness, Bunny, that looks like your daughter!"

Of course I jumped to look, thinking it was Cassandra. It wasn't too likely, but dad likes a lot of girl-on-girl action, and Cassandra probably loves to participate, I supposed it was possible. But it was me! No kidding, I was the one in the porno. Boy, was my face red.

I did so many movies over the summer after I got rolling in the low-budget sci-fi movie biz it was probably just a matter of time before I wound up in a porno. You're going from house to house, one shady basement after another, step in front of cameras, guys give you scripts (or "gist" the scene to you) and you ad-lib for a couple minutes. Then it's out the door, you got a comic book cover to shoot or an E! True Hollywood Story on Emmanuel Lewis interview to do. Turn around you're in Spread Eagle 4 and you don't remember anything about it.

It's important to know how movies work, if you're a layman or laywoman, and I don't mean the kind of laywomen in the porn movie itself. I mean ignorants. It's not like you go to script meetings, create a "character" for yourself, spend minutes or even hours rehearsing, and then shoot the thing. You're not there for hours watching everyone else work so you know how to play your scene. I mean, some workaholics and shit do that, but not real movers and shakers like myself. You step in, do some crazy stuff for the camera, and then let them fix it in editing. It's not like you ever expect to see the movie again.

So in that perspective, yeah, it's easy to end up in a porno. Directors just tell you all the stuff line-by-line. "Go here, say these lines, sit down here, take your top off, kiss that guy, say these lines, get on the floor," whatever, stuff like that. You have no idea what they're going to use it for, the context or nothing.

Not that I was doing anything like that in Spread Eagle 4. I was just playing a secretary who dropped off a file in Dick Thick's office. I walk in while he's got some secretary bent over the desk and he looks up and says, "Hey, you know my secretary, Clarissa Coleman, from Who's Your Daddy?" I didn't know they were actually doing anything, you know, penetrating. They were good actors, or I thought they were.

It was used all out of context in the film, too. When they used my scene in the movie the girl was on top and they were on the coffee table, and he said, "Hey, it's Clarissa Coleman, from Li'l Poachers!" Which makes no sense. I said, "Cool! I've gotta go," which wasn't a line but something I really said. Totally ruined the real scene, shitty editors. And they always cut to the guy's face during the money shot.

When I think about it, it does kind of piss me off they didn't ask me to be in the movie, you know, doing stuff. I'm sure I'm hot enough and I keep in pretty good shape for someone who doesn't exercise. They probably thought I had too much class, and I can't blame them for that.

Now that I think about it, I don't think I got paid for that movie at all. I could be in for some serious cash, if dad's reaction is anything like the average pornophile's.

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"I'm hungry enough to kick an old lady down a fire escape!"

The worst thing is when you're hungry for something, but you don't know what it is. People will start naming off all the things you can eat and none of it sounds good, and believe me, it's a long list if you just name off thing after thing. If someone was a real asshole they could list things they know you're not in the mood for like duck ass and iceberg. Just keep saying variations on the same thing, too: "Duck wing? Duck feet? Duck face? Duck brain?" I'm going to do that next time I get a shot.

I went to Burger King where they say I can have it my way, but the manager said the commercial wasn't talking to me when they said that. I had it their way, and it was alright. No fries with cheese cooked inside or hamburger buns made of pork, but it was good enough. I was hungry enough to eat donkey balls, though. I kept saying that and some of those kids in the great big Grimace on the giant spring started crying. You know, I don't think I was at Burger King at all. Which makes it easy to see why they made me have it some other way.

One time I told my mom I was hungry enough to eat Grandma and she made me do it. She said it was Grandma, anyway, she was probably just lying. Whoever it was, their toenails were nasty and smelled like Grandma's. Even deep-frying couldn't take out the stink.

Mom deep-fried everything. She was always playing gags on us, too. I pissed her off one Christmas by giving her a homemade gift instead of the hibachi she wanted but instead of saying anything she pretended she liked it and began plotting her revenge. Then, one day in July I came home from school, hungry as usual, and ate so fast I almost got a headache. Mom was laughing like crazy real loud in the corner and when I asked her why she told me I had just eaten my pajamas. Hell, she deep-fried them so long they tasted like pork rinds, how was I supposed to know? It was hard to get to sleep that night, my stomach hurt and I was cold 'cause I didn't have any pajamas, but I started to really appreciate the cleverness of the joke by morning time.

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