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Sex Court case 0007- 95b
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Subject: New: Sex Court Case #007-95 Part 2
Date: Tue Jun 20 01:17:26 1995
JUDGE FELIX S. WRIGGLESWORTH: ---- SEX COURT ----
Case #0007-95b (Part 2)
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COUNTY DISTRICT COURT
County of Wexford
MR. BILLIE JO STUMPLE,
Case No. 0007-95
HON: Felix S. Wrigglesworth
Plaintiff,
vs.
MS. CANDY LYKLIT,
Defendant,
April 2, 1995: Transcript continued from previous:
===============================================================
JUDGE: Please continue, Ms. Candy..
DEF: Yes, your honor. Well, I looked around the corner and the
assho- I mean, Mr. Stumple- was standin' next to a
dumpster. He had his piss-yellow double-knit pants down
around his ankles, and he was chokin' his chicken like there
was no tomorrow.
JUDGE: "Chokin' his chicken?"
DEF: Yeah. You know, makin' love to Rosey Palm and her five
sisters.
JUDGE: Okay. You mean he was masturbating...
DEF: Like a rooster on speed. I thought I was gonna bust a gut!
PLAINT: YER HONOR! I OBJECT! I....
JUDGE: Don't even think about it, Mr. Stumple.
PLAINT: Sorry.
JUDGE: Apology accepted. Go ahead, Ms Candy.
DEF: Like I was sayin', the dingleberry was having hisself a good
old time. One hand pumpin' away, the other ticklin' his
shriveled, hairy little balls.
PLAINT: SHRIVELED....? LITTLE...? FUCK-YOU, DOUCHEBAG!
JUDGE: That's it. I've had it. We need to have a little talk
here. Would you kindly approach the bench, Mr. Stumple?
PLAINT: Uh-oh! Okay.....
(plaintiff approaches the bench)
JUDGE: Let me explain a few things to you, Mr. Stumple. Listen
closely because I don't want you to miss a word.
PLAINT: Sure. (leans in closer)
JUDGE: I sit here, day after day, fighting off attacks of
hemorrhoids that would kill a normal human being, and I am
forced to listen to mental giants such as yourself. It goes
with the job. Okay, so I screwed up.... I should have
listened to my father and gone to medical school. Hell,
sticking my finger up people's bottoms would be sheer
heaven compared to what I am forced to put up with here,
thanks to ninnies such as yourself. But that's my penance
and my sorrow. However, I do *NOT* have to put up with
SCREAMING! It disrupts the regularity of my bowel
movements. Do you understand, Mr. Stumple?
PLAINT: Yeah. My old lady screams at me day and night. Sometimes
I think I'm gonna go crazy like one of them psycho-ward
nutcases. And you don't even wanna KNOW about MY bowel
movements. I aint pinched a healthy loaf in months. So
not to worry, judge-baby, I know EXACTLY where yer commin'
from! <winks>
JUDGE: No, I don't think you do, sir. But I do think you will
understand this. I have the power to make your life a
sheer, living hell, Mr. Stumple. I can be your worse
nightmare, a dark angel that descends like a plague from
God Himself upon Job, to lay waste to the tawdry, mundane
and unaesthetic thing you call your life, and to make it
even less worth living than it is now (even though that may
not seem possible).
PLAINT: You mean like an IRS audit? Boy, I wouldn't wish
that on my worse enemy! I'll keep my ka-ka squared away,
you betcha!
JUDGE: Good. I'm pleased. Now go back to where you were. And
please attempt to speak only when spoken to. Do we have
agreement?
PLAINT: We sure do, sir. I'll keep my trap shut. (returns)
JUDGE: Well, now that Mr. Stumple and I have come to a gentleman's
understanding, I guess we can try to wrap up this comedy of
errors and move on to something a little less "colorful,"
but more comfortably predictable, such as a simple breaking
and entering, or <wistful sigh> an uttering and publishing
case. So, Ms. Candy, you observed the plaintiff ...uh,
masturbating... in the alley. What happened next?
DEF: I started movin' a little closer, to get a better look. I
could hardly see his little pecker from where I was
standin'...
JUDGE: Excuse me a moment, Ms. Candy. Any comment, Mr. Stumple?
PLAINT: (sullenly) No, yer honor. I aint got no comment.
JUDGE: Wonderful! Continue, Ms. Candy...
DEF: So I'm moving a little closer and, suddenly, I stumble over
this heap of rags layin' in front of me, and the heap of rags
MOVES! Turns out it's this old bowery bum, sleepin' and
fartin' away.... About this time, Mr. Humple..
JUDGE: That's "Stumple," Ms. Candy.
DEF: Right. He notices yours truly standin' there. His eyes get
real big, sort of like he just seen his momma in her
underwear, and he starts hyperventriculating...
JUDGE: "Hyperventilating..?"
DEF: Yeah. It kinda looked like he was about to start cryin' his
eyes out or something. "Boo-hoo! I got caught slappin my
dingie. Woe is me! Now this lady knows what kinda idiot I
really am," and so forth. All of a sudden, a light bulb goes
on over my head!
JUDGE: A light bulb goes on over your head?
DEF: Uh-huh. You know, like when cartoon people get a really neat
idea! I don't know why I did it, and I sure as hell regret
it now, but it sounded good to me then. I asked him if he
like, you know, wanted a nice BJ. His eyes popped out and he
started noddin like his head was on a spring. I said OK, but
you gotta wear a blindfold or no dice. He thinks this over
for about .005 seconds and says OK. So I grab this dirty
dishtowel layin next to the dumpster and blindfold him.
It's really tight because I don't want him to see nothin'.
Then I told him to hold on a minute, cause I wanted to make
sure no-one was coming.
PLAINT: Yer Honor, I object!
JUDGE: Yes?
PLAINT: I object.
JUDGE: Yes, go on...
PLAINT: I just object, that's all.
JUDGE: I don't suppose you have a reason that you can give me, do
you, Mr. Stumple?
PLAINT: No. I object, though.
JUDGE: Yes, you've made that plain. Boy, this is a tough one.
Let's see..... I guess I'm going to have to overrule you,
Mr. Stumple. And next time, try to think up a reason
before you interrupt, okay? Any reason at all. Dazzle me
with your irrelevance, blind me with your impertinence, or
shock me with your insipidness, but come up with SOMETHING!
PLAINT: Sure. No problem, yer Honor. Thanks. You sure are a
helpful judge!
DEF: Your honor, I object!
JUDGE: To WHAT, Ms. Candy?
DEF: To his objecting.
JUDGE: Why is that?
DEF: Well....because it's insnipid or something?
PLAINT: YOU CAN'T OBJECT! ONLY THE COMPLAINTIFF CAN, YOU
BIMBO! YOU DON'T KNOW NUTHIN ABOUT LAW! Right,
yer honor, right?
JUDGE: Okay, as of this moment, all future objections by either
party are hereby automatically over-ruled. So you can both
save your breath. Now will you please continue, Ms. Candy,
and let's try to be brief so we can all go away from this
place of horror before Christmas rears its ugly head.
DEF: Okay, like I wuz sayin', I blindfolded the doofus and while
he's waitin for his treat, I tiptoed over to the wino on the
ground and shook him. He wakes up, blinks and looks at me,
then looks at doofus, who's leaning against the dumpster with
a dishtowel around his eyes, his trousers around his
ankles, and his little weenie pointin at the sun, and the
wino gets this grin on his face like, "Hey, now THIS is an
interesting dream! So what the fuck is gonna happen
next....?" I reach in my purse and pull out a ten spot,
hand it to the wino, point at him and then at doofus'
thingie. He gets the idea right away. So the wino moseys
on over and starts given the dweeb head. It took all my
self-control, god almighty, not to start bustin' my gut. I
mean...
PLAINT: YER HONOR, I....
JUDGE: Over-ruled. Keep talking, Ms. Candy, and don't stop until
you're finished, even if the Second Coming of Christ our
Savior should occur.....
(To be Continued in Sex Court #007-95c Part 3.....)
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