The Examination Room is Ready

Last night Mr. Trizzle and Short Artichoke came over to my place to practice examination techniques.  I wasn’t really involved in this whole deal, but my place is pretty much half-way between the two of them and they’re both my friends, so it seemed an ideal place to meet.

Short Artichoke wanted some help with her cross and direct examination skills.  Mr. Trizzle’s done nearly a dozen trials himself already and Short Artichoke, well, like most attorneys, Short Artichoke has done zero.  It makes good sense that Mr. Trizzle would help her out with some pointers.

Being the good little friend that I am (and very silly), I decided I would help Mr. Trizzle and Short Artichoke by setting up a court room for them.

I pulled out the long plastic folding table Mr. Trizzle’s currently letting me borrow and set it up as counsel’s table with a nice chair behind it.  On the other side of the room, off from center a bit, I put a stall stool to be the witness stand.  Even put a Bible on it.  The Bible’s in Greek, but that hardly matters.

In the center of the front of the room sat the judge.  A very proud and regal judge, dressed in a black robe, sitting high atop his bench.  Ok, it was Daddy Bunny wearing a black bag and sitting on a table, but it looked very judicial.  And on the side of the room opposite the witness stand sat the jury.  It was a very diverse jury, complete with alternate jurors.

Turned out, they didn’t need the court room.  Short Artichoke is doing an agency hearing.  Oh well.

 

 

While the two attorneys worked in the kitchen, I sat curled up in my comfy large chair, hemming the pants on Mr. Trizzle’s newest suit and listening to their banter.  I learned a lot just by sitting in the next room.  I also laughed a lot.

When Mr. Trizzle went into Attorney Trizzle mode and started role-playing the cross-examining attorney to Short Artichoke’s witness, I couldn’t help but giggle.  He sounded just like he does when we get into an argument: short, yes or no, leading questions that give you no chance to explain and twist everything around to sound bad.

“You bought a pair of black shoes today?”  “Yes.”  “Isn’t it true you already have 50 pairs of shoes?”  “Yes, but…”  “Isn’t it true you already have several pairs of black shoes?”  “Yes, but…”  “Aren’t you not supposed to be spending money?”  “Yes, but…”  “And don’t shoes cost money?”  “Yes, but…”  And by the time he’s done, you feel like you’ve done the worst thing in the world when all you’ve really done is bought a pair of black stilettos to replace the pair that broke yesterday and you couldn’t even explain that it doesn’t matter if you have another pair of black shoes if they aren’t dress shoes and that although it costs money to buy shoes, you need them to get a job and wear to work and besides, they were on sale anyway.  whew…

When they switched roles so Short Artichoke could play attorney and Mr. Trizzle was the witness, I really cracked up.  Poor Mr. Trizzle has spent too much time in Richmond.  The minute he went into witness mode, he became so ghetto: ebonics accent, short and casual answers - “You’re the head of this company?” “Yup.”  Poor Short Artichoke!  She kept shaking her head and saying, but my witness isn’t going to answer like that.

The best part was when Short Artichoke asked a question, “Did you do x?” And Mr. Trizzle says “Yup.”  And Short Artichoke vigorously  shakes her head no at him, and he vigorously shakes his head yes back at her.  And she explains, the real answer based on the facts is “no.”  He looks at her, cocks his head and says “Impeach me.”

The court room, Honorable Judge D.B. presiding.