I stood in that court room staring at Téa, hoping that if she was going to make a deal it was be a good deal for me. Under any other circumstance I would have been sure that Téa would be looking out for my best interest but since she’d approached the cell I was locked in told the sheriff she was my lawyer something had been different. She wasn’t as open as she usually was and despite the fact that we were in some weird time travelling vortex where we should be able to leave at any time she refused to do so and thus refused to save me from a court room I had no chance defending myself in.
“A deal you say?” was Téa’s response to the judge.
I was facing sixty years in jail, or goal as some of those weird ass yanks say, for crimes not even a half baked mental patient would commit. I was facing a judge that was so butt hurt about loosing a piece of ugly silver wear to a bunch of Aussies that he couldn’t see straight through all his tears and that was all Téa could say. I swear if I knew another lawyer I would have called for them right there and then.
I couldn’t figure out why Téa was acting like she was but she was quickly becoming one of my least liked people in the world, which was a pity actually because I did think quiet highly of her before, the court room bullshit. Honestly she should have been reeling from that thought alone!!
“Yes council, a deal. It’s really in your client’s best interest. He’s committed some very serious crimes and the worst of those crimes has yet to be punished. A deal really his best option.” The judge said to Téa.
I wanted to scream out and tell the judge to get fucked, tell him he was a wanker with world class butt hurt that could only be sated with a cuddle from his mummy but I thought that might have inflamed the situation too much.
“And what might this deal be, sir?” Téa said politely as if she was a school girl scared of the head mistress.
The judge didn’t need to think about his little spiel and I’m sure that was because he’d been practising it all night. In fact I’m sure when Mr. Plod locked me up the first thing he did was go to the judge and together they dreamt up their little fairy tale while they mutually rubbed each other’s private parts with sable pelt covered gloves.
“As you know the last charge is extremely serious.” The judge said. “So serious in fact that there is no penalty classified in all of our legislation which covers it.”
“Yes Sir. I understand.” Téa replied. Was she becoming a lap dog?
The judge acknowledge Téa’s response with a nod then continued. “It’s for that reason that we have had to create a new punishment which is befitting of such a serious crime. Now I have to warn you that this punishment is serious and it makes your client’s current terms of incarceration look extremely lenient.”
“Yes sir.” Téa was almost robotic in her response, then she accepted the deal! “We understand and appreciate your efforts and your kindness in this matter.” I nearly objected to my own council but I knew from TV shows that was a bad thing to do. “I’m sure whatever deal you have come up with will be more than fair and my client will accept it without argument.”
The judge smiled, I nearly exploded and Téa remained straight faced. I didn’t know how she could do what she was doing. I was convinced after our last time jaunt that all we had to do was follow the rules of the dial and wrist watch and we would both be transported home. Yet Téa didn’t even appear to have the watch with her and she certainly didn’t appear to be saving my arse from going to jail.
The judge then started to read out the wonderful deal he’d concocted.
“Well boy, here it is. Despite you and your friends getting under our guard, ignoring our rule changes, stealing our cup I am still willing to make this deal out of the good will of my heart.” This judge really could dribble shit! “What I’m going to do is let you ring home, ring this Royal Perth Yacht Club and when you get through you are going to ask for your friend Mr. Bond.”
“He’s still here in Rhode Island celebrating beating your arses in your little boat race.” I screamed unable to help myself, but it was almost as if I was not heard.
“You are going to tell your friend, Mr. Bond, that I have your sorry ass in my jail. You will then tell him that if he plans to keep OUR,” the word was spoken with such ferocity it as nearly spat. “America’s Cup then I am going to keep you locked up here for good.”
“Yes sir.” Téa said.
“But he can change all that which just a little deal.” The judge continued. “In a few years time when we race in you rednecks in Perth and that starter man says go, you tell that Bond fella he’s gotta go slow.”
“But Bondy doesn’t steer the yacht!” I said thinking that it was important to get the right details out.
Again I was ignored. “You can tell this Bondy bloke that if he don’t do as I m requesting then there is gonna be a whole bunch of Aussie tourists in my jail!”
Sadly I still appeared to be the only one in the room who could tell that the judge was a fruit loop looking for his bowl of milk.
Previous story here.