Lawyering

My palms grew sweaty as the plaintiff's attorney gave his opening statement. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, first, I just want to thank you for helping ensure justice prevails here today. Without you there would be no law and order, no peace and justice, no accountability and fairness." He was good. Already thanking people when they hadn't even done anything yet. People love that. "...and after I have meticulously presented each piece of evidence in this case, I'm certain you will find the defendant had the motive, the capacity, and the opportunity to commit these heinous crimes. And you will find him guilty on all counts. All the way from two counts of aggravated assault and murder, to three counts of grand larceny. Thank you and I know you will come to a fair and just verdict at the conclusion of this trial."

I was up next. The first opening statement of my career. I was so nervous I could hardly talk, so I attempted to copy my predecessor's opening as best I could. "Hey jury people. Thanks for coming out today. Without your prevailing winds of support, we wouldn't have our courts and lawyers, checks and balances, cowboys and Indians." So far so good. Nervously trying to recall what the plaintiff's attorney said next, I continued, "Once I insistently push each piece of evidence in your face, I'm certain you will find that the defendant can't even count, let alone commit murder. Thanks for coming to the fair and I know you plan on concluding this trial with a verdict." I wasn't sure what I had just said, but I was pretty certain I nailed it.

Once we got into the heart of the trial my opponent began to turn up the heat. He was producing evidence left and right and calling witnesses to the stand like it was his job. I had to do something or my client wasn't going to stand a chance. Nervously watching the plaintiff work the courtroom like a fiddle, I began objecting to anything I could think of. I objected when he asked a witness to state their name. "Objection. Badgering the witness!" I objected when he talked too loudly. "Objection! Disturbing the peace!" I objected when he strayed too far from his desk. "Objection! Traveling!" I even objected when he paused for too long. "Objection! He's wasting my time!"

The trial dragged on this way until I was finally kicked out of the courtroom for objecting to one of my opponents objections:

Plaintiff: "Objection your honor! He's leading the witness!"
Defendant: "I OBJECT!"
Plaintiff: "You can't object my objection!"
Defendant: "OVERRULED!"
Plaintiff: "Your honor, the defendants council is out of order!"
Defendant: "OBJECTION! Speculation!

The judge ordered me to leave the courtroom until closing statements. Now it was go time. I had to think of a way to convince the jury that my client wasn't capable of murder and quick. So far all I had proven in this case was that my opponent, the judge, and my client didn't like me. It was a start but it wasn't going to win the trial. Then, as I walked back into the courtroom for my closing statement, I thought of the perfect plan to prove my clients innocence. Standing up and walking over to the front of my desk, I took a gun out of my pocket, gave it to my client, and said, "Kill someone." The courtroom erupted in gasps to which I responded, "Oh relax, this is just a demonstration to prove my client isn't capable of murder."

Apparently, contrary to logic, giving the defendant a gun during a trial is against the law and not admissible evidence in court. I was disbarred and was no longer allowed to practice law in the U.S., Canada, or in any place where there may be people.