Don’t fondle anyone inside a courtroom. That’s perv jury.
I went to small claims court over a faulty bag of overly frozen vegetables; the case was heard by a just-ice of the peas.
Don’t question a judge’s decision. It just is.
In corrupt judicial systems, witnesses can be bribed with testimoney.
Chernobyl radiation victims can no longer sue. There is a statute of limb-mutations. The defendants will be held armless.
It is treasonous to tamper with unlabeled stool samples. You will be branded a tray turd.
During my time as an executioner, I made sure to be head of the game, by acquiring a unique skull set, from the time I was a guillotiney bopper. I got gallowing reviews which was always excellent noose. Even though I hung my clients out to dry (though sometimes I got them stoned) I never faced the firing line. Of course, the work is no longer shocking; these days the business won’t survive without capital injections, which makes me sigh at night. My goal nonetheless is to fill every day with poisonable experiences.
My job is to clean toilets in a courthouse. It’s a lifetime of jury doody.
The mime who broke his silence was punished with maxi mum jailtime.