#This was one of the most fun Curds I've written. I'm glad the trial went in my favor. I could never afford to pay that - I'm a writer.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #28

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction, posted daily and usually written with the intention of being terrible… in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Peters.”

The robed judge approached his perch and took a seat. He donned a pair of reading glasses and looked at the document in front of him.

“Good morning, counsel. Do I have this correct? The case I’ll be hearing today is The Characters v. Cassandra Erica, Author?”

“That is correct,” replied the plaintiff attorney. “Operating as representative of The Characters, I am Edgar Wordly, Esquire.”

“Hm.” The judge said. “With a name like that, I take it you’re part of this class?”

“Indeed I am, your honor.”

“You may explain why to the court in your opening statement. Where is the defense’s representation?”

“Right here, your honor,” I replied.

The judge looked around the courtroom, confused. “Where are you?”

“I am everywhere and nowhere, all seeing yet rarely being. I am The Narrator, representing the defendant, Cassandra Erica. As I tend to do.”

“Well, thank you both for being here… for lack of a better phrase. Mr. Worldly, your opening statements.”

“That’s Wordly, your honor.”

“Apologies, my mistake.”

Actually, it was a typo.

“People of the jury,” Wordly began. “Have you ever felt cursed by God himself? Doomed to face your very worst fears head-on and suffer the consequences, leaving you scarred for the rest of your life?”

Daniel Smith, sitting in the gallery, rubbed the mark on his left hand.

“Or worse, have you felt abandoned by that same God, created and left in obscurity, never to be permitted to see the outside world?”

Daniel Mildlike, sitting next to Smith, scoffed and leaned over to whisper. “I was supposed to get my own detective mystery screenplay, but she got bored of me.”

The truth was, Dan Mildlike was a really dumb name and a rip-off of Dirk Gently - which Cassandra hadn’t even read. She still hasn’t read Dirk Gently. It’s unclear why.

Wordly continued. “I, personally, was created as nothing more than a name made up by an entirely different character - a cartoon slug, no less - and languished in obscurity until I was able to go to law school and pass the bar exam, simply so that my name was no longer a lie. Yes, that’s right - Esquire is my surname. The defendant did not bother to look up what it meant when she brought me into existence.”

Oofus and Doofus, watching via livestream, looked at each other.

“Do you remember that?” Oofus asked.

“I’m fairly certain it was just a snippet of dialogue she thought was funny and wrote down in Evernote after waking up from a strange dream.” Doofus replied. “It’s nice to have something to say, now, isn’t it?”

“Too bad this is the last of it for a while.”

“Now, imagine,” Wordly strutted back and forth before the jury. “Living through this sort of torture over and over again, through several drafts - perhaps dozens - or even alternate universes!”

Kris, Kris, and Chris looked at each other, nodding. Three takes on Mary began to weep, and the six comforted one another.

“But that’s just what might happen as the protagonist, the character who is given a chance at redemption. What if you’re the antagonist, the one who for the sake of the plot must do evil things and be shown doing them, despite no desire to perform these acts? It is the ultimate form of libel.”

“Well,” Shirley Jones said, elbowing his neighbor. “It’s not that I had no desire to see that dyke burn.” He chuckled.

Veronica scooted to the other side of her seat. That man made her uncomfortable.

“In summary, Cassandra Erica, as an author, has put every one of us through an undeniable and unending deluge of pain. It is up to all of you as the jury to decide what sort of compensation that is worth, though it is hard to put a number on it. I suggest fifty million dollars. Thank you.”

The judge cleared his throat, even though he really didn’t need to, in order to provide a good way to tag his dialogue without overuse of the word ‘said.’ “The defense may now offer their rebuttal.”

“Thank you, your honor,” I replied. I would have stood up, but I have no physical being, so I just began talking. “People of the jury, have you ever considered what non-existence feels like?”

They began chattering among themselves.

“I ask only because if not for Cassandra Erica writing you into existence, you would not have any whatsoever. You exist in reality for only so long as I describe you. And would there be any point in my description if you weren’t doing anything of interest?”

They weren’t.

“Every single one of these plaintiffs was created for a reason - to tell a story, to develop, to have a character arc - and even the ones who weren’t so lucky to get one now owe their entire lives to my client. Suing her in a court of law is like suing God.”

Mary One gulped.

I addressed the crowd. “And you all seem to have forgotten something very important. You do nothing without her blessing. You are nothing without her blessing.”

The judge choked on his coffee. “Where did the jury go?!?”

“And Cassandra, though very entertained by all this, will not allow it to go any farther. She tires of writing this Brain Curd.”

The judge ruled the case as a mistrial.

“No, no I did not!” He banged his gavel. “Order in the court!”

The whole crowd murmured and whimpered. I glared at every last one of them, and they knew I was looking, even though they couldn’t see me, and the hairs on the back of each of their necks went up. The judge ruled the case as a mistrial.

“You are not in charge of this court! Order!”

I laughed. “Do you really think what you say will have any impact on reality? Who is the reader going to believe? In any case, it doesn’t matter what you or I say. You know who has the final word.”

The judge ruled the case as a mistrial.