"goddamn right we want to file charges miss. try breakin' and enterin', attempted murder, discharging a firearm on private property and generally fuckin' up. sure, that too, and sign the complaint "pork pie" anderson. huh? laverne, but don't type that too loud."he turned and saw me. "hey angel, sleep well?"

"you certainly didn't pork."

"shit, did fine baby, and 'bout got everything figured out, going to police headquarters in a minute but first going to pick up andy's babe."

"and i called crabb security agency, a representative should be out in an hour," simpson said.

"what will i tell him simpson?"

"i've told them a lot already miss, just agree a lot."

things were getting better. i poured a glass of white wine, and took a big sip. "how's your shoulder, simpson?" i asked.

"oh, as good as new madam, really."

"come on buzz, lets get rollin'. and you stay close, baby, we may need you come down to the police station, to fry those critters."

i smiled, took another sip of my wine. they rolled out of my drive in the semi, a hundred miles an hour. what a pair. i was sure they wouldn't be pleased with local justice. i finished my drink, what else could go wrong? a car pulled up in my driveway. god, i made another drink, sat down on the love seat. a very heavy knock occurred on the door. "who is it?" i asked.

"crabb exterminator service." my god in heaven it was mr.crabb, from hot tub heaven. i answered the door. "little early from drinkin', ain't it cat?"

"suits me, what happened to hot tub heaven, mr. crabb?"

"too much fuckin' administrative bull shit, cat, decided to administrate my own business."

"god, mr. crabb, what do you know about security?"

"ever hear about vietnam, and the special forces?"

"yes, i've heard."

"cia trained me, know everything, be none of that shit like happened last night, with crabb on the scene."

"okay,what should i do?"

"well, i could plant a couple of rice patties, spray 'em down with agent orange, place a few land mine and napalm bombs, post a flame thrower or two."

"can you put an a-bomb near the telescope?"

"now you're talkin' cat!"

"oh, just do what they told you this morning, mr. crabb."

"who's simpson?" heasked.

"my friend, he cares about me."

"well, i'm damn glad you have at least one sensible friend."

"you liked him?"

"sure, who wouldn't?" now this was a switch, i didn't think mr. crabb liked anyone.

"didn't simpson kinda tell you what he wanted in the line of security?"

"yeah, but he demanded your input, some pretty high tech stuff."

"you don't need my input mr. crabb, just make the place safe and no rice patties or explosives."

"and do want direct access to the police department?"

"what the hell for, they're never in." i answered, in frustration.

"mr.simpson suggested it, cat."

"oh, alright, when can you get started?"

"now, that's what the man told me."

"ok,get to work then." i turned and walked back to the kitchen. god, this had to be a better day. i wondered what this security thing was going to cost me. i heard the semi pull up in the driveway and made another stiff drink.

"goddamn mutherfucker," i heard pork pie grumbing.

"good morning, mister crabb," simpson said.

"good morning to you, sir," mr.crabb responded. god, simpson could even make the likes of crabb civil.

"shit!"

"what's the matter pork?"

"fell in the goddamn green, carlee."

"oh honey, i'm so sorry. here, take this towel."

"thanks. how in the hell did the trailor git in the damn water anyway?"

"long story pork, how's the babe?"

"oh, he's fine, glad to see us though."

"who wouldn't be, pork?"i turned around, and pork was standing there in his underwear and his hat, puffing on a cigar.

"here baby, can you dry my pants?"

"sure," i said as i took them."can i interest you in a drink, pork?"

"is the pope catholic?" he said and smiled.

"will wild turkey do you?"

"hmmmm, them's the magic words." i made him a big one, with lots of ice and water.

"weak, but it'll do, angel," he smiled. i put his wet pants in the dryer, and turned it on.

"was dad ok, pork?"

"don't mention that bastard's name in my presence!" he snapped. i really didn't want to know anyway.

"miss, ah, where are your trousers, mr. anderson?"

"she made me undress, buzz."

i smiled. "i'm cooking them, simpson."

"remind me not to stay for lunch then. do you have any further instructions for mister crabb, ma'me?"

"not if you think that what he's doing will make me safe, simpson."

"may i have a half an hour to assist mister crabb?"

"sure buzz, but we're due in court in an hour."

"i know sir, i shouldn't be long."

pork pie was enjoying his drink, so i took a moment to see my horse. simpson and mr. crabb were working away, i waved at them. andy's babe was eating hay, not a care in the world. "hey baby, where are you off to next?" horse silence. "you're a busy boy these days, aren't you?" the babe looked up at me with big brown eyes. i knew he understood my question. simpson and mister crabb were working quietly at the water front, installing napalm, i suppose.

pork pie appeared in his underwear, a cloud of smoke enshrined his head. "baby, we're late, my pants done yet?"

"what's your hurry, pork?"

"court, angel, told 'em we'd be there by ten."

"pork pie, they don't hold court today, they haven't even been arraigned yet."

"by god, we'll see to that, now i wouldn't really like to appear in my skivvies, but i will if i have to."

"cool down pork, the buzzer will tell you when they're done."

"come on buzz, carlee can help him, let's go!"

"one moment sir," simpson said. i certainly didn't want to relieve simpson and help grouchy ole mister crabb lay weapons of mass destruction by my dock, but redbone and goodie had to be dealt with, before they were back up the river, waiting for round two."andy's babe may like an apple, miss," simpson said, as he walked toward the house.

"thank you simpson, that's a good idea." i could hear the dryer buzzing. i went to the fridge for an apple.

"shit buzz, help me, i'm about to fall on my ass!" pork pie raved.

"sit in that seat to put your pants on sir, it's safer."

"what's that fuckin' thing on the back of it?"

"it won't bite you sir."

"you sure?"

simpson laughed."hasn't bitten me yet, and i've sat there many times."

pork pie sat down, slowly, on my love seat. his eyes never strayed from my stuffed ocelot. "hmmm," he said, as he put his pants on.

"you think andy will like this?" i asked, showing pork a nice red apple.

" shine it buzz, the way only you can. he'll like this better." simpson took the apple and pulled a cloth from his pocket. rubbed it briskly, it shined like new money. "there, that's the ticket," pork pie smiled and said. i took it, and fed it to the babe. he loved it.

"hey, cat!"

"what!" i hollered back.

"need for you to open that building over there."

"my audio-visual building?"

"yep, i'm needing a piece of equipment."

"alright." i walked back to the house for the key. i unlocked the a-v building. "my god, if this building could talk," i smiled, "it would melt down your eyeballs, mister crabb."

"hell. it's already doin' that, what do you use that bed for?"

"sleepin', kind of," i said.

"sheriff tate would lock you up cat, just for having this room. you and meat use this?"

"of course not mister crabb, jason is civilized."

"oh, you just use this room for uncivilized folk."

"no, for special friends."

"right. now do you have a 25 inch monitor?"

"yes, but what for?"

"a security camera we put on the dock needs one."

"ok, but don't look at anything, ok?"

"i wouldn't think of invading your privacy, cat."

"right," i said.

"off to court, carlee!" pork pie hollered.

"i'll be here guys, if you need me."

"taking your car, ok?"

"sure pork, and good luck."

simpson whispered something in pork pie's ear, i could see, but couldn't hear. he came walking toward me. "pardon me madam, but would you be so kind to accompany us?"

"no, i mean, i don't mind, but i'll have to get changed."

"i like what you are wearing miss," he said.

"thank you simpson, but i believe i'd look better in something a little more demure."

"hell. you didn't tell us courts was fancy down here," pork pie said. i could hear mister crabb laughing in the background. i went inside.

"mr. simpson, could you bring me back about 90 yards of t640 wire, 60 gauge?" mister crabb asked.

"of course sir, will wal-mart have it?"

"no, there's an electrical shop near the court house."

i returned in a pair of white cotton pants, and a redshirt, tucked in, my summer sandals, hair up in a ponytail. "very fetching, carlee," pork pie said.

"why thank you, sir," i smiled and said.

simpson and mister crabb were talking business. "goddamnit buzz, you're holding up production, come on."

"one moment, sir," he said. simpson admired me on his way to the car. i liked that. he looked spiffy too, dress butler's uniform, spit shined shoes. "oh my, you look very refreshing, miss." i opened the back door for him, and could have kissed him. i drove.

how far, baby?" pork pie asked.

"nothing's too far away pork, five minutes."

"well, by god, it took those cocksuckers a hell of a lot longer than five minutes to get here the other night," pork growled.

"now porkpie, i'm sure they were on patrol somewhere, actually they got here pretty quick."

"you all ought to hire captain zimmerman down here, he wouldn't let shit like this happen." i was silent, but pork was absolutely right. the main street ran around the unimpressive courthouse, as it did in so many places in the south. "man, that's one ugly muthafucker," pork said.

"shush pork, the courthouse was built in 1840, the town is very proud of it."

my friend, kathy louise ball was on clerical duty that day. "hi carlee," she said.

"hi kathy, please meet mr.anderson and mr. simpson."

kathy shook their hands professionally and smiled. "pleased to meet you both."

"miss ball and i are old classmates," i told them.

"you are here about the johnson-heron case?"

"yes, kathy, we're here to file formal complaints."

"the judge has been called, carlee, he's on the farm, told me to buzz him if he were needed."

"please inform the judge then, kathy, are misters johnson and heron safely tucked away?"

"they are with the public defender at present. carlee, do you remember barry wells?"

"sure,"i said, "is he a lawyer now?"

"yes, graduated three years ago," she whispered in my ear. "hotter than shit too, carlee, knows everything, be careful of him."

we three sat down on a cold bench, and waited. "my ass itches," pork pie announced.

"well, scratch it, pork."

"what's taking the son-of-a-bitch so long?"

"i don't know pork, he'll be here." i saw barry wells coming from a door from downstairs, he was wearing a blue pinstriped suit and a red tie. he didn't look any older than fifteen, a sorry smirk on his face.

"goddamnit it kathy, where's jeeter!" he shouted.

"he's been buzzed mr. wells, any minute now, it's saturday, you know."

"i want my clients out kathy, the sooner the better."

"i'm sorry, mr. wells, we'll have to wait for the judge."

"shit!" he shouted.

"hey barry," i said.

"i'll not talk to you carlee!" he snapped. "you railroaded my clients and you're going to pay for that."

"you listen to lies very carefully, barry," i said.

"shut up carlee!" he snapped. "i'll have you behind bars before this is over."

"hey, dude, you'll not talk to my friend like that!"

barry looked up. "i'll talk to her any way i like, buddy!"

"listen, you snot nosed son-of-a-bitch, keep your goddamned trap shut, or i'll make you wish you'd never been born, goddamnit!" pork pie had turned red, and was standing up.

"sit back down, fat man!" barry hollered.

"please, pork pie, sit down, this will be alright, please!" and i was shouting. in walks jeeter mcclure. he had on a straw hat, overalls, a red checkered shirt, and rubber boots upto his knees. you could smell cow shit as soon as he walked in.

"uncle jeeter, i want you to declare a mistrial!" barry contended.

"shut up you snot nosed little bastard, i ain't even got my goddamned eyes open yet. what's the problem here kathy?" he asked. jeeter was drinking his fifth beer, can in his hand.

"the sheriff brought in redbone heron and goodie johnson last night sir, they're accused of robbery and attempted murder."

"well let's burn the bastards, should have done it years ago."

"good morning, judge mcclure," i said. "nice to see you again."

"same to you, miss mccord, are you prosecuting today?"

"no sir, i'm the victim."

"thought you were in law school, dear."

"maybe some day sir, but not at the moment."

judge mcclure smiled. "hand me the complaint, kathy," he said. he read it intently. "hmmm, tried to take your telescope huh, how old is it miss mccord?"

"brand new, judge mcclure."

"and what was the cost?"

"i'm not sure sir, expensive though."

"over a hundred dollars?"

"very much over, sir."

"and who got shot?"

"that would be me, sir," simpson said.

"did they try to kill you?"

"i believe so, sir."

"uncle jeeter, can i speak?" barry said.

"sure boy, as soon as i tell you that you can, and stop calling me that, goddamnit, you call me your honor, or judge."

"yes sir," barry meekly replied.

"kathy, get me another beer. now you all are telling me that redbone and goodie invaded your property to steal your telescope, and fired at you when you told them to stop?"

"yes sir, that's about it," i stated.

"who's the person defending these two red necks?"

"that would be me, your honor," barry said.

"goddamn, those two really are in trouble," pork pie whispered into my ear. "for a shit kicker, he's pretty damn smart." i couldn't help but smile.

kathy brought jeeter his beer. "here is the police report sir," she said.

he read intently. "call sheriff tate, kathy, and have cleveland bring the dynamic duo up here."

"one moment sir," she said as he left.

jeeter opened his beer. "i hope no-one one has any suggestions, it's my court after all, and today's supposed to be my day off." we all smiled.

"good morning, judge mcclure." sheriff tate said.

"mornin' roscoe, please have a seat, cleveland is fetching the prisoners."

"shall i call the district attorney, judge?" kathy interjected.

"no, that won't be necessary kathy, besides, it's saturday, we'll just conduct a very informal hearing and get to the bottom of things." the bailiff, lester cleveland, ushered redding heron and goodie johnson, in orange prison attire, into the room. neither man was handcuffed. "mornin' gentlemen," judge mcclure said to them.

"mornin' judge," they responded together.

"please have a seat, alongside 3; your attorney. swear everyone in, lester."

mister cleveland did. judge mcclure read the sheriff's report, and that filed by pork pie and simpson, to the defendants. "that about it, redbone andgoodie?" he asked. neither said anything. "sorry, has the cat got your alls tongues?"

"we have a lawyer, judge." redbone heron explained.

judge mcclure finished his beer. "that usually don't mean you can't answer an old friend's questions, redbone."

"we was told not to talk to you judge," goodie said.

"obstructing justice, are we?" jeeter asked.

"just doing what we're told judge," redbone said.

"cleveland, get 'em back to jail, hold 'em over for the grand jury, maybe they'll have something to say to them."

"wait, uncle jeeter, what the reports say, is lies. redbone and goodie were out coon huntin', saw the telescope and just went to take a look, they had no intentions of stealing it."

jeeter sneered and said to kathy, "if that snot nosed son-of-a-bitch ever refers to me as uncle again in this office, i want him charged with contempt."

"i don't think that constitutes contempt, if you don't mind my saying so judge."

"by god, it does in my book!"

"ah, please go on mr. wells," jeeter said.

"that's it sir, the tall slim guy tried to run them off with a gun, and then the big guy tried to run them over with a truck, got out, and practically beat them to death."

"and that's the defence's proposal. mr.wells?"

"yes sir, that's it."

"well, goldern almighty, seems like carlee and her bunch ought to be the ones in jail, barry. doesn't your law book say anything about illegally entering someone's private property?"

"of course it does, but, they were hunting."

"yep, i'm told they were hunting whiskey as well, inside miss mccord's house," jeeter said.

"no sir!" snapped barry,that's just a pack of lies."

"and my sheriff and miss mccord's friends are conspirators in this pack of lies!" mcclure snapped.

"i guess so uncle jeeter," barry replied.