I banged this out this morning, read it over this afternoon and here it is. Nothing fancy, just my take on the jusicial system and religious judges.
It's All In The Cards
The guy was steaming. He opened the box of business cards and screamed, "Is this somebody's idea of a fucking joke?" He dumped the box upside down and the cards cascaded down onto the front counter of Excel Job Printing Shop. The unfortunate young woman behind the counter picked up one of the cards and read.
She gasped and started giggling. She tried to compose her face and failed. "Oooh hah." she tried to take the grin off her face and failed and began laughing again. "I'm sorry, Sir. I, I, I just can't help myself. But you do have to admit that it's funny."
"Oh? Is it funny enough to have your business license pulled?" The deadly serious look on his face left no question of his state of mind. "Believe me, I can and may get a court order to close the front doors of this place while an inventory is made to determine how much the owner has to satisfy any upcoming judgment. I believe you had better think again about how funny this is."
"Sir, I was not laughing at you, but at the card. Do you realize how many men would love to have a business card like this? Believe me. If this card got passed around town, you would have more free publicity than you could ever imagine getting if you paid top dollar. And the best part of it is that I can prove that you didn't plan any of this."
"Lady, I don't know what you are talking about. I already have the ethics committee chairman from the State Bar Association demanding I come in for a hearing. They do not take this sort of thing lightly." Well, she thought, at least he isn't yelling, now.
The business card was supposed to advertise the services of a cut-rate legal office. There was a picture of the face of the lawyer in the right quarter of the card. There was his name across the center of the card, along with the address and phone number. But the problem was that where the card was supposed to say, "John D. Price, Attorney," the "e" had been replaced with a "k" and the Card read, "John D. Prick," Attorney. The picture of his smiling face seemed to have a lecherous cast to it. The caption underneath the smiling face read, "My prick is always the lowest. See Prick for prick. You'll be satisfied by me every time."
"Sir," the chastened young woman said, "This is just a computer error. Please let me straighten it out. We'll reprint the order for you and throw in ten thousand extra cards. I really am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"That is total bull shit. This is not a computer error. Some son of a bitch did this on purpose. See that picture? That is not the one I chose. When I placed the order I said I wanted the three quarter profile. Now I intend to find out what happened here and someone is going to pay, big time." He leaned over the counter and frowned at her.
"Look, Sir, Mr. Prick, er, I mean Price. If you sue me, I'll go out of business." Her eyes were wide with fright as she began to comprehend just how great the danger to her was. "I own this company and have been really working hard to make a go of it." She started crying, tears falling down her cheeks in steady streams. "Oh God. I'm sorry." she said in a broken voice.
"Turn the tears off, lady, I see better performances every day in court."
Suddenly the tears stopped as outrage took over. "Well, let me tell you, Mister Prick, What happened here is that the man who did my setups for me got drunk yesterday and fucked up not only your order, but at least twenty others. I fired him. The reason he got drunk was when he started setting up your order. You represented his ex-wife in a divorce and took everything he had. An hour after the divorce, his clothing was on the sidewalk in front of his house and he didn't even have a car to carry them off in. He hated you and got his revenge. So punish me for what he did and fuck you very much."
"Oh, wait. I think I know whom you mean. Was your setup man's name Frank Schooner?" His rage disappeared, as he remembered.
"Yes, it was. He was very bitter about what happened to him in court. He blamed you for ruining his life."
She had calmed down, but her cheeks still glistened with the moisture of shed tears.
"First, let me tell you that your ruined friend Frank came to court drunk and mooned the Judge. Hell, until he did that, there were no problems. The guy is his own worst enemy.
He removed his fresh handkerchief and dabbed the tears away from her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I over reacted, but I have a couple of people who are gunning for me and they have filed a formal complaint with the Bar Association claiming that I purposely ordered that card. I am in deep trouble over this. If you would accompany me to the hearing and tell what happened, I would consider it a closed matter."
"Sure. You name the time and I'll be there. I really am sorry, though."
"Just one thing, though," he requested, "Would you take out all those body piercings? The green and orange hair will be distracting enough. But the total Goth look just might be a little much for the hearing committee. I mean that some of those guys consider ankle length skirts daring.
A mean look came over her face at the effrontery of this straight suit telling her what she should look like brought out all her defensive anger. Then she stopped and thought that he was trying to meet her half way. "Okay," she meekly answered.
"The hearing is at three this afternoon. I'll pick you up at two and we'll discuss what your testimony will be on the way there. It really is only a statement of the facts, so there isn't all that much to worry about."
He started for the door and stopped and came back to the counter. He gathered up most of the cards and said, "Maybe I better save these," he paused, "for evidence." He grinned as he put the offending business cards back in the box.
She smiled and waited for him to leave, which he did, taking most of the cards with him. She grinned at one of those left behind. After all, it was funny.
Right on time, at two PM straight up, he walked into the small print shop. The door chime sounded and he heard her voice in back call, "Come on back and give me a hand."
He walked around the counter and headed back to hurry her up. He wanted to get there early and try to do a little glad-handing. It never hurt. He opened the door and saw her naked, her back to him. This was evidently her bedroom. She was furiously going through her closet. "Bah. What in hell do you wear to impress a bunch of fucking lawyers?"
"Well, I'm pretty impressed right now." he told her.
"Oh." she exclaimed, "I thought that was Shauna coming in. But since you're here, what should I wear to your meeting?" She was not the least bit discomfitted to have him see her naked.
"Well, I believe, from what I see here that your clothes are a bit too outré for most business occasions, unless they were being held on Mars." He grinned, as he said the words, taking the sting out of them. He leaned past her into the closet and pulled a black tee shirt off a hanger. He handed it to her with a nod of acceptance.
She looked at his choice doubtfully. "It doesn't say anything. It just is."
"Look," he told her, stepping back to look at all of her and not just her face. "You have a body that any normal woman would commit suicide to have. Except for its god awful color, your hair has a texture I have never seen before. Your face is perfection, even down to your sweet looking cupid bow lips. My God, woman. Why in hell do you want to hide your natural beauty to look like a cartoon character? You are the embodiment of perfection."
"Really?" she asked, awed.
"Yes, really. Now get dressed and let's get out of here before I forget why I came in the first place. We'll be late." He turned and walked out of the room, preceded by a very conspicuous bulge in the front of his pants.
Taken aback by the intensity and obvious sincerity of his avowals, she hurried to get dressed in a black tee shirt and black jeans that were only two sizes too small. (But they made her ass look great.)
Just as John Price got back out front, a chubby young woman entered the store. "Hi," she greeted him, "You must be the lawyer. I'm Shauna." She was wearing a web muscle shirt with nothing on under it. Her brightly rouged nipples stuck out through the mesh.
His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. Both nipples were pierced with dangling gold rings. As she talked, he could see the stud through her tongue. "Er, uh, hi," he answered her. Then he blurted, "Doesn't that thing hurt you got through your tongue?"
She grinned and answered, "Only if the guy gets carried away while I'm giving him head." Her smile seemed to defy him and dare him to say anything else.
"Please forgive me, but I meant just having it in your tongue, not in your mouth. I mean your tongue in your mouth, not, well... " He stopped. He could not think of another thing to say.
"When I'm sucking cock, I usually take it out, especially if the guy's uncut. Are you circumcised?" She still seemed to be mocking him.
"Why no." he answered and was saved any further comment by the young woman coming up behind him, dressed and ready to go.
Relieved, he led her out to his car and opened the door for her. She got in and he closed the door. His crotch was even with the passenger window. His hard on was framed perfectly. She grinned as he hurried around and got in behind the wheel and started the engine.
"What's your name? In all the hubbub and furor, I never did find out what it was," he looked at her briefly before turning his attention back to the traffic.
"It's Melanie Johnson," she told him.
"That's a nice name; it fits you," he said seriously.
She reached over and squeezed his penis and kept hold of it. "You better do something about this," she said, "I don't think they will approve of you trying to do business with a woodie." Deftly she opened his fly, removed his cock and went down on it, all in seemingly one motion. Her lips were like molten electricity as they engulfed the head.
"Oh Shit." he exclaimed, "Oh wow. Oh. Oh. OOOH." He raised up off the seat and almost wrecked them as he swerved from side to side. She sucked hard and he cum. His eyes crossed slightly, as he sat back down in the seat.
"There. That will keep you from being embarrassed." She grinned at the shocked expression on his face. He looked as if he wasn't sure whether he should be outraged or mortified or gratified. Numb shock won out. "That was to pay you back for the hard time you gave me."
She looked up into his face and asked in a small voice, "Did you really mean what you said about me being pretty and all?" Her voice was tiny and unsure. The expression on her face was one of defenseless hope.
"Yes I did. You are very beautiful." He was trying to hide his confusion and shocked bewilderment. Never had a woman ever treated him like this. Never. "Tell me, do you do this sort of thing very often?"
"Well, no, you are the first guy I ever gave a blow job to in a car. But it seemed like the right thing to do, so I did it." She had her perky grin back on her face again. She stretched luxuriously, as if she had just accomplished something very notable and sat back in her seat.
"We're here," he announced, as the car pulled over to the curb.
"You better zip up your pants," she giggled. He looked down and gasped. His flaccid penis was hanging out and dangling down in front of him. He grabbed it and replaced it in his shorts and hurriedly zipped up.
He got out and hurried around and let her out of the car, offering her his arm as they walked toward the office building where the hearing was to be held.
Mentally he crossed his fingers as he escorted this strange, young woman into the building. His future was literally in her hands and at the mercy of her pierced tongue. He shuddered at the thought and smiled immediately at the memory of his recent blowjob. Well, it has been interesting, today. He thought to himself.
He opened the door for her and she entered, with him following close behind. The receptionist looked up, as they came into the office, and said, "You can go right in. They're waiting for you."
John looked at his watch and said, "But we're not due for another fifteen minutes."
His protest fell on deaf ears. The receptionist smirked and said, "They want to save time and get this out of the way. They are waiting for you, so you better hurry. It's right back through there," she told them unnecessarily.
"Something is definitely wrong here." John murmured under his breath.
"Trouble?" Melanie asked as she watched the interplay between the lawyer and the receptionist, and then his troubled expression now.
"Yup. And I have no idea what the trouble is." he answered. They came to the door at the end of the hall and found it open. There were people sitting around the long conference table looking expectantly at the couple entering.
Then John knew what part of the problem was, why the smirk from the receptionist. The person chairing the hearing was Judge Wilbur North Smith, a prune faced religious fanatic who actually had a defense attorney jailed on contempt of court for protesting the judge's use of the Bible as a valid document of proof in an obscenity trial. "Shit." he whispered to himself.
"What did you say, Mr. Price? Speak up. What did you say?" His stridently nasal voice grated on everyone's nerves.
"I was instructing my witness to sit," Your honor. "But I feel, since I have matters pending in your court that I find it highly unusual for you to be chairing this hearing, sir." John trembled with the effort it took for him to curb his tongue.
"Are you saying I will not be able to hold a fair and honest hearing in this matter today?" he snarled at John. "I purposely asked for the honor of handling this matter for the Bar Association. I felt it would take a very unbiased individual to give you what you deserve for your obscene business cards."
"Well, since you have started the hearing without me and you have just stated my guilt without my being able to present any form of defense, I am leaving to prepare a challenge to the impartiality of this hearing. Please give me a copy of the tape of these proceedings to date."
"Well," the judge smirked, "It seems the tape recorder is broken and we have no record, too bad." he sneered.
"The gentleman who brought these charges, assistant District Attorney Belder is here, I see," John began and was interrupted by Melanie.
"Hi, Mister Belder." she exclaimed, "Don't you recognize me? I saw you and Frank in my shop the other day when you paid him the money you owed him. I didn't know you were a lawyer too." Belder looked at her in incomprehension, as she continued, "I guess you don't recognize me without all my make up on. I own the print shop you were in a couple days ago. Now do you remember me"
From the sickly look on his face, it was obvious that Belder did remember her, indeed. "I never saw that woman before in my life." he blurted.
"Well, that's funny, because I remember you and I still have two of the fifty dollar bills you gave Frank. I have them in my purse, right here." She held up a little black clutch purse.
"I bet that if someone was to dust them for prints, yours would show right up. Oh no, sir. I remember you. Frank said that you owed him two hundred dollars. I broke two of the fifties for him, when he went to lunch. My friend Shauna was there too. Don't you remember? She's the one you told about your 'special get out of jail free cards'. I can get her to come here and say hi. She didn't like the way you pinched her nipple as you left."
Belder sat back heavily in his chair. He said nothing. "What is this?" the judge asked in a snappish voice. "What is going on here?"
John stood up and answered, "It seems that your little kangaroo court just came to an adjournment, Judge. I have two witnesses who saw Belder pay money to the man who printed those business cards. I want a stenographer in here right now or my next stop is the papers. I promise you that you will hate what I have to say to the newspapers and the TV and radio stations."
The judge, a frustrated look on his face, yelled out the door for a stenographer. The rest was formality. John took his copy of the proceedings and left. As he walked out the door, he turned and said, "I want a full written apology on my desk tomorrow. You disgust me, both of you." He and Melanie left.
As they drove back to the print shop, he told her, "I would like to buy those two bills from you. I want them in case there is a problem later on.
"Well, I'd like to, but I can't. I put them in yesterday's bank deposit. The only thing in this silly thing," she said, holding her little black clutch purse up, "is my lipstick, all six shades. I'm a good bull shitter, aren't I?"