Court battles rage on all over the world tonight. Gladiators were happy (ergo the name) to settle disputes with a match to the death. When cultural decision-making eventually moved out of the hands of the football players over to the smart people, the venues changed, but the process stayed basically the same.

President Carter, a 17 year old black man from the Bronx, was finally getting his day in court. President, or Pres, as he liked to be called, had worked for the Texon Oil Company for six months when a tanker truck pulled into the station as he was adding oil to an ancient Chevy Malibu. The truck, whose driver was extremely drunk, tipped over and smashed the Malibu. Which is OK, because this story is sponsored by General Motors, so they are giving us a lot of cars gratis to crash up, flatten down, explode, implode in space, "whatever you want to do with them, baby. You da artist," Dickless Dave McGuire said when he passed me the check and the serial numbers of the stunt cars. "We just want to make sure you get the name out in front, and that you paint our company from its historical perspective, like Terry Macmillan did for Ford." So I took the money.

As Pres was standing in front of the hood of the Chevy Malibu (a classic from 1972), the gigantic GMC tanker, financed with an aggressive lease from today's GMC Finance Division, a Delaware corporation, caused the open hood of the Malibu to lurch forward and, "bite Mr. President Carter in the 'cubicals," as he called them, claiming they, "felt like they had been through the car crusher, and that ain't all."

The court transcript continues:

Mr. Carter was then covered with oil which gushed out of a hole in the top of the tanker. "That drunk sucker was carrying Crude Oil, too. That's to show you how drunk dey all was down at the tank station," according to President Carter.

President Carter, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Yes sir, I do. So help me Jallah.

No, Jallah.

Sir, for the court record, Jallah is Ja, cuz my mother's from the island. And Allah is Muslim. No, sir, I'm not going to call Jallah by your name for him. I might as well call him BillyGoat. Der, I swear by de BillyGoat.

Throughout the court, space bars clicked on laptop computers as lawyers bookmarked the testimony in search of a technicality.

Judge: I'm seeing on my newfuckingfangled computer here that there is a precedent for calling god by other names. The court just passes a resolution that Jallah, or BillyGoat, as Mr. Carter claims to worship, is really God Almighty, and then we move on.

The lawyers from the Plaintiff's side began deleting their bookmarks. They were going to save their post session research and strategy dollars. Got to keep those bills down! It's a good case, but this President Carter kid is a loose cannon. We could easily spent 25 or even 40,000 dollars on this and walk away with nothing but bills. Fucking BillyGoat. Who prepped this guy, the mailroom clerks?

President Carter: So help me, Bottle of Yoohoo.

Judge: Fine. Bottle of Yahoo is hereby declared God for the purpose of this trial, it's antecedent records, and any future appeals.

Officer of the Court: It's Yoohoo, Sir. A bottle of Yoohoo.

Judge: What did I say?

Officer of the Court: You said "Yahoo," sir. The online service.

Judge: OK, let's do this over again.

Officer of the Court: No need, sir. My computer is showing that the Yahoo internet company recently bought Yoohoo. Therefore, ipso facto, any bottle produced by the company being declared God, by this measure makes the parent company of the subsidiary producing the product a higher God, or Godhead.

Judge: Young man, yes, you, Mr. President. We should have just stuck with the BillyGoat or the Challa bread. But I am going to rule that you are sworn in.

There were no bookmarks placed in Pres's testimony for the first 20 minutes. Everyone was familiar with the case: GMC bus hit the tanker, splashing the crude oil on Mr. Carter. Then an S210 pickup truck carrying seventy-five ostridges to le Garimond, a French restaurant downtown, went flying up in the air because - in an effort to avoid the crashing bus, tanker, and Malibu -it swerved and drove up the front of a sleek Corvette parked backwards on the street. The ostridge cage broke when the S210 nosedived into the tanker.

Lawyer: So, you were tarred and feathered, you might say?

Pres: Well, the oil sure was sticky, and I had feathers stuck to me. But most of them feathers was attached to birds, still.

Lawyer: And what was the effect of all this on you?

Pres: I regressed to when I was 4 years old watching the Texon Valdeez killing all them birds and wildlife. And, since I'm an eskimo.

Lawyer: You're an eskimo?

Pres: Well, I wasn't going to tell you. But I guess the secret's out now. But, yes, I am part Eskimo.

Lawyer: Innuet?

Pres: Pardon?

Lawyer: Innuet? Eskimo tribe. You are an Innuet?

Pres: Yes. That's it, Innuet. I'm certified Innuet.

Lawyer: Certified?

Pres: Yeah. Just check your screen.

Here a link is inserted that refers to item in evidence 238b.

Judge: The court accepts the evidence that Mr. President Carter, here, is an Innuet Eskimo.

One or two halfhearted clicks were heard from the Texon Lawyers.

PART TWO

Court System: Part Two
BY KARRIE SEMIPERT

Killers Make Great Kilts
BY P.A. LEONARDO IV

DIET-MAGIC!
BY T. LEONARDO

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