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Message-ID: <29965asstr$987916202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: writerzblocked@aol.com (Writerzblocked)
Subject: {ASSM} I FOUGHT THE LAW, AND...   4 (mc)
Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2001 01:10:02 -0400
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I FOUGHT THE LAW, AND...  4  (mc)

Copyright by Writerzblocked, 2001.  All rights, well, you know. Repost and
archive to your heart's content, just don't charge anyone for it or I'll have
to send Harry Long after you. You all know the rest of the drill by now.  I'm
not
big on headers and/or labels, so anyone reposting may feel free to add whatever
MF, MM, FF stuff they think is necessary.  

********************************************

LAWYERING UP


This is the part of the story where I introduce you to Bubbles.  Well, OK, her
real name was Barbara but no one calls her that anymore.  She showed up the day
after LT Sistah and the boys figured they weren't going to get anymore out of
my mouth.  Well, OK, so Sistah did get more out of my mouth, but doesn't seem
to recall the details, which is fine by me.  And that's another story anyway.  

Anyway, soon as I said the "L" word, everyone went kinda quiet and sullen and
they sent Bernard back to show me to my new home for the rest of the night.  I
noticed he looked at Sistah and the boys kinda close now and saw something
wasn't quite right, but I guess he figured they were just throwing me around
the box a bit, because their clothes were all messed up and the room looked
like Public Works hadn't been by in a while.  So I had him throw a few bucks in
the corner for the cleaning crew who had to clean up the mess.  Hey, I'm not
all that heartless.

I spent the rest of that night on a pretty bad mattress, which was OK, just not
up to my high standards - for sleeping, anyway.  Early next morning, Bernard
and another of the city's finest escorted me further downtown to central
booking and I was seriously starting to get bored again.  Luckily I persuaded
them to stop at the donut shop on the way because I'd heard that jailhouse food
was pretty awful.  Since I got no ID on me and the prints didn't turn up
anything (surprise, surprise), they threw me down in the wing reserved for the
homeless nut cases, which was actually right down my alley, to use the old
cliche, the more you think about it.

Or is that two old cliches?  Whatever...

Anyway, I spent most of the first day around the kind of homeless, crazy people
I tried my best to avoid on the street and, believe it or not, when you
actually get to know 'em (or have little choice), most of 'em are pretty cool
guys.  

Take ol' Chester Thomas for example. He was in the cell next to mine, and kept
talking to John Wayne the whole first hour after I got there.  Finally, the
Duke got sick and tired of ten years of harassment and told him to go take a
flying fuck.  I think Chester's back in his old accountant's job now, last time
I talked to him.  I imagine the Duke's happier too, but I ain't talked to him
so I can't be sure.

Then there was the mad screamer down the hallway.  Kept screaming about having
all these strangers looking at him.   Finally got so bad the guard (his name
was Officer Frank something) let me out to go see what it was all about.  Turns
out it was this really old guy (his name was Dwayne something) who couldn't
stop looking at his shadow on the wall.   OK, so most of these flakes aren't
the smartest people in the world.  Just told him to close his eyes and pretend
he was somewhere else.  Really simple stuff.   Last time I heard from him, he
was living on his ranch down in Texas and he said he'd put me in his will. 
Yeah, like what am I gonna do with a million dollars?

Like I said, pretty cool people, once you get to know them. But like everyone
else around, they just don't value the really IMPORTANT things in life.

Like Mr. Chuckles.

Which brings us back to Bubbles.  Just after noon, an old man with a briefcase
came over to talk to Frank.  He looked in the cell, gave me the once over then
proceeded to look kinda confused when Frank told him he's got the right guy.  I
guess I didn't look like your ordinary cop rapist, whatever your ordinary cop
rapist looked like back then. So he introduced himself as the guy in charge of
the public defenders for the day and figured I needed a lawyer since I didn't
look like the kind of guy who already had one lined up.  We kinda hit it off
(like I keep saying, I'm not such a bad guy when you leave me alone) and I
convinced him to send his best girl right over. 

So imagine my surprise when, a few hours later, this kid who couldn't have been
more than twenty years old shows up and starts talking to Frank. At first I
figured she must be part of a candy striper program or it was "Bring Your
Daughter to Work to Gawk at the Crazy Prisoners Day" at the jail or something. 
She was blonde (of course), impossibly tiny (about 5 feet tall), couldn't have
weighed over 90 pounds, and when she opened her mouth, it sounded like Alvin,
Simon and Theodore all talking at the same time.  

Needless to say, Mr. Chuckles was in love - again. 

Now the jailhouse had a policy of not letting women in alone in jail cells with
rape suspects, but Frank and I had come to an arrangement where I promised to
behave myself if he promised not to watch - too close.  Yeah, OK, you can stop
snickering already.

So this teeny tiny thing comes in with her booksack - well, OK, it was a
briefcase, but I kept thinking booksack because the image kinda fit - but when
she starts talking (and I actually start listening), she actually seemed to
know what she's talking about.  Not that I was listening really closely, mind
you, Mr. Chuckles still had pretty firm control back then.  Said her name was
Barbara Cramer or Kramer or something close and that she didn't normally take
such important cases but her boss said she'd be perfect for this one for some
reason.  Made a mental note to send her boss a special present for Christmas or
whatever the next holiday happened to be.  

She'd come dressed in this brown pantsuit kinda thing - which made me wonder
how much schoolyard lawyers made these days.  Looked like she bought it at
Penny's or something.  Knew right away she had nothing much upstairs, but that
kinda fit, considering she looked and sounded like a blonde Minnie Mouse on
crack anyway.  But she seemed to know her stuff.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I can only take your case if you stop looking at my
tits."

"Uh, what was that again?"

"I said, I can only take your case if you're honest with me."

"Oh, yeah. That's me. Honest as the day is long."  Geez, where do they come up
with this stuff?  She was talking about honesty in a place full of crazy
people. 

"I was looking through your file and noticed that you love to have your cock
sucked."

"Pardon?"

"I said, I was looking through your file and noticed that the only honest
answer you gave was as to your name."

"Oh, yeah. I was just playing around. I like to do that."

"Well, if I'm going to take your case, I need to know that you'll chew on my
clit until I have at least three screaming orgasms."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have trouble hearing or something?  I said if I'm going to take your
case, you're going to have to tell me a lot more than you told the arresting
officers."

"Oh, yeah, the honesty thing again.  I raised my right hand.  "I swear I'll be
honest with my lovely lady lawyer."  Well, OK, maybe now that Mr. Chuckles is
satisfied hearing Minnie Mouse talk dirty.  Trouble is, Mr. Chuckles is NEVER
satisfied. Oh, well.

I noticed around the corner that Frank wasn't keeping his end of the bargain.
Evidently he must've had a thing for cartoon characters.  Either it didn't
bother little Miss Schoolyard Lawyer much or she didn't notice.

"So, I need to finish out your report for the record.  So I'll need some more
personal information."

"Uh, how personal?"  I tried to do the coy act, but I've never been that good
at it. Go figure.

She looked up at me with a scowl.  "Oh, please.  Save the act for the streets.
You know the drill by now. First, I need your address."

"Don't have one."

"OK, then, the last place you stayed for any extended period of time."

"Hmm, that would be the Governor's Suite of the Downtown Hilton."

There was that scowl again.  Her eyebrows did a cool little dance and her short
bangs kinda shook when she got an answer she didn't like.  Good thing it was
kinda cute, 'cause I had a feeling I'd be seeing it a lot over the next hour or
so.  "Honesty, Mr. Bandan."

I shrugged my shoulders.  "It's true. The managers just really liked me. 
Stayed there for almost a month until I decided to move on."

"Occupation?"

"Uh, gainfully self-employed."

"Yeah, right.  How gainfully?  You had no money or credit cards on your person
when you were arrested."

"Don't believe in 'em."

She looked down at my feet. "And I imagine those hundred dollar sneaks just
appeared on your feet."

I smiled.  "Hey, what can I say? The manager at the corner store just likes
me."

"A whole lot of people just seem to 'like you,' is that it?"

I leaned back in my chair and almost fell over.  "Hey, when you got it, you got
it.  And I got it."

She scowled again and started to close the file.  I dunno why, but I was
beginning to really dig this one. The whole "cute and smart" thing, I guess,
but I sensed something a little more there than your ordinary book case here. 
Had a bit of the streets in her and something else I couldn't finger at the
time.  Yeah, back then I was just in it for the sex, but there was still
something here that got part of me hooked.  Part of me that wasn't much
connected to Mr. Chuckles even...

"Look, if you aren't going to be more cooperative, I've got more deserving
slime I could be helping..."

I jumped to my feet and put on my best happy face.  What? You don't think I can
do happy?  OK, I'll cop.  Still wasn't much of a citizen back then, but I could
really play at being happy.

"Hey, Miss Lawyer Barbara, don't go.  I'll be a good boy, honest."

She turned around and, honest to God, started to laugh.  I make lots of women
laugh, but she was a little different. It was an honest laugh.  Kinda surprised
me, really.  Got Mr. Chuckles' attention too.

"I just don't trust people very easily.  Living on the streets like I do, you
gotta be really careful who you tell your secrets to."

"Well, Mr. Bandan, you should also learn very early that if you can trust
anyone, it had better be the person who can keep you out of jail."

"It's just that I've never opened up like this before."  OK, so I was getting
better at this coy thing.  It was really hard, believe me, especially hearing
stuff like this from someone who looked and sounded like Olive Oyl's midget
cousin.  

"Now, again, how do you make your living?  Drugs?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that.  People give me things because I make 'em feel
better."

"Yeah, right. Drugs."

"Oh, C'mon, Miss Barbara, you're killing me here.  I solve problems for people
and they pay me back by making my life easier."

"What kind of problems?  I'm having a difficult time believing you can live the
way you do by barter."

"It's true.  Take you for instance.  I don't have any money to pay you, but I
bet I can solve a problem that's worth your time and effort."

She put her hand to her head and gave a heavy sigh.  Mel Blanc could even learn
a few things from this one.  Mr. Chuckles sprang to attention.

"Right.  Believe me, there's nothing you could do from inside a jail cell that
could have any impact whatsoever on my life."

Hey, another challenge.  This was going to be more fun than I thought.  "Hey,
I've already helped out a few folks around here." I gave a quick glance at
Frank and he quickly poked his head back around the corner and out of sight. 
"Surely there's something you need fixed in your life."

She rolled her eyes and looked like she was going to get up again.  "This is
silly.  I'm fine."

"I bet no one takes you seriously, and it drives you crazy, right?"

That pretty much got a reaction, just not one I'd figured on.  She snatched the
file and stood up again.  "I don't need to be discussing this in a jail cell
with a rapist."

Mr. Chuckles and I took offense at that.  "Hey, I thought I was presumed
innocent."

Everyone once in a while, I hit upon just the right thing to say at just the
right time.  It's a talent, what can I say?  

She turned back around and looked terribly hurt and apologetic all at the same
time.  It would've been enough to make my heart crack if she didn't look so
damned much like a cartoon character - and if I had a heart. "I'm sooo sorry. 
I don't know what came over me.  What an awful thing to say."

I put my arm around her and guided her back to my cot.  It was kinda like
hugging your daughter - if your daughter happened to be a cartoonish kid lawyer
in a bad Penny's pantsuit.  Never been the paternal sort, so I just have to
guess at these things.

"It's just that I... no one understands what it's like to be a genius trapped
in this...this body..." she began as she slowly worked at her jacket buttons.  

"Ever since I was five, I've been teased and teased about it."  She threw the
jacket across the room.  Frank tried to catch it, but missed.  What a fucking
loser. 

"Graduated high school before I even got boobies..."  She felt herself though
her blouse.  I thought about helping, but didn't want to interrupt.  Like I
said, I love honesty, and this girl was pouring it on.

"Damned parents lived in a trailer and couldn't afford college..."  Her hands
were freeing the bottom of the blouse from those cheap pants. "Had to dance at
a strip club to help get through law school..."  I knew there was something
about this girl I liked.

"Do you know how fucking degrading it is to have to wear little girl outfits
and shake your butt on stage just so a bunch of losers can feel you up for 600
bucks a night?"  Couldn't say that I did, but Mr. Chuckles was certainly
sympathetic. 

Frank actually managed to catch the blouse.  I snorted in disgust. 

"Had an affair with my law school professor and the bastard dropped me because
he didn't want to risk his marriage.  Only man I ever loved and he'd rather
live with a lesbian society whore than with these."   She rubbed her little
boobies up and down Mr. Chuckles.  Oh, well, his loss, our gain.

"And every time I go up in front of a judge, all they see is
this...disgusting...ahhh...excuse...for..."   

"Hey, it tastes wonderful, Miss Barbara."

"You...you really...oooh...think so."

I was working my fingers down her pants now, feeling her wetness.  "Oh, I know
so.  In fact, I know exactly what your problem is and how you can solve it."

"You....do...aaaah?  Yeah."

I nibbled on her ear as I whispered.  "You're trying too hard."  

"Ahhh, wha...you...ahh?"   I managed to get two fingers in.  Evidently Mr. Law
Professor didn't teach her much in that particular area.  

"As a lawyer, if everyone wants to treat you like a little kid, maybe you
should just go with it."  My fingers were really busy now, working in and out
and around.  "Just like you did on stage..."

"I...I don't...understa....aaaahhhh...."

"You don't fight your body, you work with it."  My other hand loosened her belt
and her own fingers began working the zipper. I imagine the entire block now
had a smell to go with the voice...  I started hearing groans from all around. 


Hey, crazy people got sex lives too, you know.

"Wha...do? Yeah..."  Between the two of us, we finally managed to get those
awful pants down.  Guess what?

Yeah. Plain white panties.  Sigh.

Never one to let life's little disappointments get me down (too much), I
continued to explain my theory to the schoolgirl genius lawyer as I guided her
fingers down to replace mine.  

"It's simple, really."  I whispered as I continued to nibble on her ear and
maneuvered Mr. Chuckles around behind her....  "You show up for court with your
brain in gear, but let your body do the talking."

"I...uhh...think I'm getting....it....ahhh"  One of her hands continued
tickling her rosebud while the other, to my delight reached up between her legs
and tickled Mr. Chuckles....

"Oh, yeah, you're getting it..." I said as we bent over together.  "Let's see
if my little schoolgirl can get in practice...."

"Oh, yeah, like, maybe....ahhh, I could show up....oooooh in court with my
little...white...stockings and...yeah...short red
skirt...and...oooohhh....maybe put my hair up...white ribbons...uuuuhhhh...."

"Oh, girl, that's good.  But maybe the lawyer language..."  Mr. Chuckles
couldn't wait any longer and dove for home as she started.

"AAAAAAAhhhhhh......Your...honor....I request a....recess...while...I...and my
client....ahhh....get a...few things...well...one...ahhh...thing...straight....

"What's that....your honor....ahhhh....motion to suppress .....ahhh....suppress
this...objection, council is....leading...ahhh fuckfuckfuck..."

God, I love it when lawyers talk dirty.  Well, OK, only when they talk dirty
and Mr. Chuckles is happy.

One thing was still bothering me, though and I couldn't be entirely happy until
I got it out of the way.

"Uh, this is all good and well....council, but I don't think Barbara is an
appropriate name for the new you."

"uhhh.....fuckfuck....well....ahhh...damn....one....of....aaaaaaa...my....old
boyfriends used to call me..."

"Yeah..."

"Bubbles....aaaaahh..."

"Odd."

"fuckfuck....shit....aaaaah....he got a kick I was a law
and...order...ahhh...type and said he was gonna....fuck...name a cartoon
character after...me."

Then it hit me.  And Mr. Chuckles.  And Bubbles (three times).  Some times
things just all come together at the right time.  Even in jail.

While it wasn't quite the same as in the alleyway, I bet that cell block hasn't
heard any like it before or since.

As we melted together in the cot, I noticed the crazy guy in the cell across
the way was staring at us a bit too personal like.  So I took off one of my
hundred dollar sneaks and tossed it at him.

"Get your own fucking lawyer!"


"Write what you want, how you want, and don't worry about the rest of the
world.  If you do it long enough, eventually they'll catch up."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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