The evidence, your Honor.....

In my post "NASCAR SUPERSTORE sux @$$" I went on a two paragraph rant. The rant was about how they did not have Stewart gear to customize. If you don't know, CWF aka: Fick, is my brother from a different mother. We agree on a lot of things. I would of thought this was one of them. You know, if I would have gone to the NASCAR SUPERSTORE web site, the one that my best friend and brother from a different mother had a problem with, I would not spend my hard earn money on that site until the problem was remedied. Well, Fick clearly did not think that! His betrayal has cut me deep. My group therapist said this might help.

There is a multitude of ways Fick will defend himself. I have randomly picked two quick ones. Ignorance, Fick did this act before my post. Nope that won't work! I told him my issue way before his betrayal. Insanity, Fick is a JR. fan. I have an idea, let's explore the last one. Here is how I see it going down, "Perry Mason" style....

We have to battle through the press to get into the full court house. The gallery is full, the twelve jurors are seated, and the judge bangs his gavel to begin.

• GET3: Good morning, Worm your honor. I will plainly show the prisoner (Fick), who now stands before you, was caught red-handed buying this crap: "OCHO DOBLE"! Ohhh Fick, what were you thinking? This will not do. Call up Poppa Fick!
  
• A tall, to tan, great looking, beast of a man stands up and approaches the bench.
  
• Poppa Fick: I always said he'd come to no good in the end your honor. If they'd let me have my way I could have flayed him into shape. But my hands were tied, the bleeding hearts and artist let Fick get away with this betrayal. Please your honor, let me hammer him right now!
  

Fick jumps up! His defence lawyer is trying to pull him back down into his seat. Eyes wide open, teeth a showing, scratching at his chest he starts yelling.

• Fick: Crazy, toys in the attic I am crazy, truly gone fishing. They must have taken my marbles away.

Then the twelve jurors, to the right, look at each other and stand. All of them start pointing and shouting.

• twelve jurors: Crazy, toys in the attic he is crazy.


• GET3: You little sh!t you're in it now, I hope they throw away the key. You should have talked to me more often than you did, but no! You had to go your own way, have you broken any friendships lately? Just five minutes, Worm your honor, Him and ME, alone.

A woman two rows back in the gallery stands up. Oh look, it's Mamma Fick! Fighting back tears and with her arms out ....

• Momma Fick: Baaaaaaaaaabe! Come to mother baby, let me hold you in my arms! Judge, I never wanted him to get in any trouble. Why'd he ever have to leave me? Worm, your honor, let me take him home.

Fick's head drops into his hands! His defence lawyer put his arms around him in his seat. The court room falls silent, and you can hear Fick crystal clear.

• Fick: Crazy! I'm a JR. fan, I am crazy. Bars in the window. There must have been some lead paint on my walls, when I ate it!


• twelve jurors: Crazy, he's a JR. fan! He is crazy!
  

The judge is up on the bench. His facial expression shows complete disgust.

• Judge: The evidence before the court is incontrovertible, there is no need for the jury to retire! In all my years of judging, I have never heard before of someone more deserving of the full penalty of the law. The way you made GET suffer, your dad and mother, fills me with the urge to defecate!


• Fick: No Judge! Noooo!


• Judge: Since, my friend, you have revealed your deepest fear! I sentence you to be exposed before your peers. (Gavel bangs twice)
  

Six bailiffs drag Fick away kicking and screaming "The paint, why did I eat that paint!" Yep, that is how I see it going!

So, take a little extra time. My friends, you heard the judge! The jury of public opinion is out.

(Yes, it is "The Trail" by Pink Floyd. Written by Waters and Ezrin, and tweaked a little by GET3. My group therapist said this might help...)