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Message-ID: <43246asstr$1057461005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Simple Man" <Simple@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "When Ages Collide" (Mg, cons, rom, law) Introduction and Trailer
Date: Sat,  5 Jul 2003 23:10:05 -0400
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[Okay, I think I'm ready to try out something more substantial now.  This
story is dedicated to my teacher, Frank McCoy, a legend in his own time.]





When Ages Collide

{ASSM} (Mg, cons, rom, law)



By Simple Man (C)2003







     Jonathon Witherspoon was not the kind of man you expected to see at an
arraignment, indeed not the sort of man you expected to see in any Court.
His stature in the community was impeccable as well as his contributions.
Many sat in high office because of him, and him alone.  This majesty of a
man, however, had one small failing.  He was attracted to little girls, the
younger, the better.  Being branded a pedophile would ruin him and a whole
empire would crumble setting the worlds currency into debt.

     That where I come in, I'm Steven Boyd, attorney at law.  I am not your
common lawyer, far from that; I take in the clients of big business,
criminal law, jury trials, big money on the line.  If you can afford me then
you don't have any problems.  I am arrogant and proud; judges cower behind
their bench when I arrive in Court.  Take the women and little children off
the streets, I have arrived!

     Little Sally McDermott was pregnant, and the world wanted to know just
how a ten year old girl could be pregnant.  The world was stupid, Biology
101, could explain this, but it was of an outrage they felt rather than any
knowledge about how a girl so young could conceive.  Never-the-less, public
opinion was in high gear and there would be no place to change venue to.
Jonathon Witherspoon was going to jail and the stock market dropped 4000
points in a matter of a few hours.  It was Black Friday all over again, but
it gave me time to prepare.

     Franklin Highfeather, a Blackfoot Indian, did my investigations; he was
cunning and deadly, in that order.  I needed to know everything about the
McDermott family and especially little Sally, and I needed it now.  Franklin
's fee is something I do not care to talk about, but thirty silver Cadillac'
s and his many preteen squaws was some idea of his value to me and the
Blackfoot nation.  A single remaining war hero and he had the scars to prove
it.  The little girls of the reservation threw themselves at his feet hoping
to be his next acquisition.  He loved all of them, and they knew it.

     One little Blackfoot girl was Shawnee, a runaway from her own
reservation, merely eight years old, she was a gift to me, and one that I
cherished, my one true companion in life, incredibly beautiful, utterly
devoted to me.  I understood little girls and when I got what I wanted on
Sandy McDermott, it would be my kind of trial.  Highfeather was like a ghost
in the night, one second there, the next gone.

     I had only turned around for a second to explain what I wanted, but now
the room was empty like he had never been there at all.  All that remained
was a small white feather on the floor, his trademark.  If there was
anything at all, he would find it or bring the squealing girl to me half
alive.

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