“Not guilty, your honor.” So said V, Jon VanTorre, our once and future king. How V found himself on the wrong side of an arcane, ancient law designed to trap escaped circus bears posing as humans was not important. What was important was the 80+ year sentence V was facing if things went south. “I can break stones, but I cannot break Father Time,” V was overheard saying to a reporter. It was a frame up from the start. V knew it. The judge knew it. All of the townsfolk knew it too. Through his extensive charity work over the years V had made himself many powerful enemies at all levels of society. Each angry that his good works had revealed their interests to be the empty cardboard cereal boxes they were. “Gentlemen of the jury, you have here an uncontrollable force capable of tearing off entire roofs with one blow,” stated the prosecution. “I did that to help people,” said V. I was overwhelmed when V asked me, Chris Weagel, to be his lawyer. So much so that I immediately passed out and did not fully recover until 8 weeks into the trial. To my great shame, V had only an old-time cash register to represent him in court. The kind with the little pop-up price tabs. Chnkkk-CHING! it would ring out. “Ugh. ‘No Sale’ again.” [PART TWO TOMORROW]
V’s Statement Upon Buying a Magic Carpet: I pursued Magic Carpet technology for solely peaceful purposes. I bought this Magic Carpet on Store Credit. Which I will not repay. I do not find its pattern offensive. I enjoy soaring, carefree up above it all, with the angels my companions. I will use this Magic Carpet primarily to enhance my map-making abilities. It will allow me a better view of the topography and locations of any mystical creatures. Which I will warn you about on my maps. You may not borrow my Magic Carpet, for I intend to keep it with me at all times. I will conduct meetings aboard it. I will take my meals on it. It shall respond to my voice commands and will not require a steering wheel. And if I feel the most appropriate place to be during a social call is hovering mere inches above Chris’ head, so be it. With my Magic Carpet I am finally free. You will not see me for many weeks now. I go in search of the eagle’s egg. Which I will attain thanks to my courage, my resolve and my Martha Stewart Magic Carpet. Salaam Alaikum.
They say he spoke Dinosaur. They say he fell asleep falling down the stairs. They say his heart was 15% bigger than a bison of comparable weight. They say he could lift entire municipalities, shake out all the bad and leave the good feeling better about being good. They say he breathed more oxygen than was necessary but he planned on returning it one day, in little glass bottles labeled with pen. They say he didn’t like numbers, didn’t trust their many curves. They say he once spoke to a river, learned its secrets. They say he admired bricks because they were pure. They say his friendship brought many rewards, chief among them access to a vast DVD collection including all nine seasons of Dallas and his discretion with your peculiar tastes. They say he put gravy on his cereal. V says, “The truth is, I’m actually a Blast Furnace.”