"It is dangerous to be right, when the government is wrong." -- Voltaire

Setting -- THE GREAT HALL OF LAW AND ORDER

Part I -- Pre-Trial Accusation

The throne-seated, robe-fitted Chief Presiding Monkey slams his gavel on the bench with the power and commanding presence of Thor, demanding complete silence from the Accused, and the sheep of the Peanut Gallery. His vizard of smug omnipotence, and place at the Tribunals pyramidal zenith is alone, enough to elicit the due respect of the practitioners, but such a thunderous burst from his gavel he reasons, will just add an attractive note of fear with such respect. On each side of the Chief, comfortably seated in thrones of their own, are four other Monkeys arranged in a descending, hierarchical order. As His Honor commences the customary agendum of the days business, these ancillary Monkeys sit idly by, stroking their long white beards. They appear to be attempting a discernment of the Accused with nothing but a piercing glare, and remain posed in this poised position for this entire proceeding. After his initial gavel swing, and before beginning to speak, the Chief plies a white-knuckled grip on his oversized gavel. This, in anticipation of the Sheep's zeal to explode in a frenzied round of bleats and baa's at all of his forthcoming declaratory accusations. "Will the Accused X please stand before the Tribunal and answer to the charges against It," says the Chief in a contemptuous tone. Gingerly rising from Its pew the Accused pockets both hands which have been uncuffed for this engagement; and leans Its weight on Its right foot which is shackled at the ankle with a ball and chain. "You are charged with the following, gravely serious offenses," says the Chief. "And let me remind you that you are presumed guilty until proven otherwise. If you wish to accept the guilty plea given you by the Tribunal, then your punishment will not be as harsh and unyielding as if found guilty by a jury my peers. Is this understood, X?" The Accused X rolls Its eyes and tilts Its head; put Its hands on Its hips, and shifts Its body weight to Its left foot among the rattling of the shackled chain links; while It lets out a gusting sigh of annoyance. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Posturing himself in his gold-trimmed, jewel-studded, velvet-laced throne, the Chief Presiding Monkey peers mercilessly at the Accused while reading the charges. The Sheep of the gallery lean forward in a captivated attentiveness. "You are accused of being lazy. The term 'slacker' is commonly used to describe you," says the Chief. He then rises his chin and turns his accomplished grin to the Peanut Gallery seeking affirmation that this allegation against the Accused is righteous. Showing their unmitigated loyalty to the Monkey and his views, the Sheep clatter their hoofs to the floor and let out a predictable chorus of bleats and baa's. After a moment this ruckus desists at a single gavel swing from the Chief. How he adores commanding the fearful respect of the underlings. Turning his attention back to the yawning Accused, the Chief dons a stone face and continues to read more charges. "You are also accused of having apathy for our political system. How you could not want to play a role in your own life is beyond me..." Before giving the Peanut Gallery a chance to collaborate for another rousing uproar, the Chief Presiding Monkey quickly spouts out more charges. "...you are also accused of having little care for your future. This is directly related to your being a slacker, and is apparent by your seeming political apathy." The Chiefs vocal inflection leaned hard on the word "slacker" as his body jerked forward. The Sheep's clamor is more blaring and vociferous than before and it takes two cracks from the Monkeys gavel to quiet them. The Accused seemed to be nodding off and was shocked out of the Sandman's grasp by the crash of the Chiefs second gavel swing. "X, you are too accused of having little respect for your elders, and authority in general. This is obvious by your appearance here today. To adorn yourself in frayed khaki shorts, sandals, and a baseball cap, while putting rings through your nose and ears is at such a formal event is a sure sign of disrespect. And all of those deforming tattoos. Ugh! Quite frankly X, I believe every aspect of your conduct and behavior thus far in life has been completely unbecoming and is totally unacceptable. In addition to all you have been formally charged with, you are also, in my opinion, a morally defunct and characterless generation. With all of this, it has been decided that you do not possibly have enough redeeming qualities to sufficiently contribute to society. Therefore, in the best interest of the future, the Tribunal feels it is due time for you to answer for your actions. Or lack thereof." This time, instead of a noisy outburst, the Sheep of the Peanut Gallery, as well as the Chief Presiding Monkey stare hatefully and hiss at the Accused. "Having read to you all of the charges, X, how do you plea?" Seeming not the least bit winded from his arduous monologue and multiple gavel swings, the Chief Presiding Monkey sits back in his throne, crosses his legs, and squints his eyes offering yet another scolding glare at the Accused. The Sheep can be heard whispering amongst one and other until the Chief raises his hand and waves it in a hushing manner. For the first time today, there is complete silence in The Great Hall of Law and Order. Amid the concentrated attention of a thousand pair of gawking eyes, the Accused X makes use of Its shirt collar to pat Its beading brow. As X raises and lowers Its arms, the lone sound of jingling chain links sends a cold shiver down Its spine. The heavy reality of the situation has started to break the cool arrogance of our Hero. What to do? Out of necessity X shucks of this bitter uneasiness, steps towards the microphone in front of It, and enters a rather animated plea. "I'm innocent, you fucking Monkey!" This bold statement echoes through the mammoth Hall like a bass drum in an empty room, and is once again trailed by an uproarious flow of bleats and baa's from the Peanut Gallery, and several thwaps of the gavel from the Chief. The ancillary Monkeys of the Tribunal break their stone pose and bow and shake their heads in disappointment while shielding their eyes in disgust. Obviously disturbed by this remark, the Chief Presiding Monkey stands, points the gavel at the unconcerned Accused and says, "very well, X. Your trial will begin in one hour, and you will then have thirty minutes to debate these charges against you. Far to much time for such an obviously guilty party." He ends this spiteful statement by baring his teeth at the Accused. He then turns around and stomps into his chamber, gavel still in hand. Rising languidly, the Tribunal Monkeys follow suit in an orderly, single file fashion. The Sheep of the Peanut Gallery look confusingly at one and other, unaware of what to do without the Monkeys guidance and suggestion.

[ Prologue | Part I -- Pre-Trial Accusation | Part II -- George the Lonely Sheep ]