So I had to attend a court hearing this morning vis my soup chucking escapades. All very embarassing I'm sure.
I opted for some outlandish clothes and some dark glasses and sat up the back quitely to await my case.
Imagine my horror when the case of Philius the Librarian came up just before twelve.
It appears the saucy bookfiend was caught administering something akin to 'Rimming' in the old park in town.
The judge, a rather conservative fellow by the name of Justice Millbrooks looked sternly upon the disheveled Philius, who pleaded guilty to a charge of public indecency. Luckily he was gone before my name was called.
"Robert Rambling"
I strode confidently to the box and listened courteously while the charge of GBH was laid against me. Not only that, but also a charge of criminal damage, as apparently some of the broth destroyed the Billy Joel tape, my plaintiff, Mrs R Buchannan had been listening to on the day.
I said very little, expect confirmation of my name and address and let Max Darling take the reign.
He entered a plea of not guilty, and my trial was set for August the 8th. I slinked outside slightly disconcerted that all this nonsence had taken place. Things seemed to be moving far too fast.
Outside Philius stood on the steps having a fag (ahem) and we briefly chatted before I leapt on a bus and returned home.
I have lost all faith in the justice system. The fear of my returning to a confined cell fills me with dread, and I had dark thoughts about hiring a professional to 'despatch' said Mrs R Buchannan as I swept up a horrid amalgamation of cat and dog shit from the scullery floor.
RB.
