I fought the law

The chubby but cheerless Bitter Mouthed Bitch Ban Garda sat chewing razor blades, waiting. The fella sitting behind me, who had major previous, coughed loudly spraying me in the process. Suits and wigs whirled about fluttering with papers and fancy talk. The place was heavy in scum bags and constabulary. Names were called, numbers read out, statements read, lots of harrumphing, loads of harrumphing.

My name was called out. I cleared my throat and went through my spiel one more time.  Like a breath of stale air, the charge was exhaled by herself, the Bitter Mouthed Bitch Ban Garda (for simplicity BMBBG). I steadied myself, successfully avoided scratching my balls which I always do when nervous, harrumphed with the rest of them and read from my prepared script.

“Guilty judge”.  

He looked down at me seeking clarification. I crystallized the situation for him, 

“As charged”

And then it was BMBBG’s turn, who it must be said, was visibly taken aback by my honesty, by my abruptness or maybe by my handsome appearance (she never said). She countered with the allegation that I hadn’t paid the fine. Again reading from my prepared script,

“Guilty Judge”.

Tom stared down at me looking perplexed. He reached for his hammer and was about to send me down to a  Kevin Barry Gallows near Mulgrave street, when I produced the document, the dog’s bollox of a document, the magna carta for that moment. That same sworn affidavit, signatures still wet, mine and our local councilor and commissioner of oaths (Thank you Kathleen). The affidavit which confirmed my innocence, affirmed only by my absent, blessed but dead mother. You see, I’d never received the pesky fine but the MAN didn’t believe me, but Kathleen did and so did my mom.

BMBBG reached for her smelling salts but the clerk of court had beaten her to them (Just pretend please), and administered same to Tom. The stony silence was broken by another splutter from the multiple previous behind me, whose knees were now digging hard into my lower back. Tom came to, glared down at BMBBG .


Nelson Mandela like, I walked away a free man, reputation enhanced and integrity intact. BMBBG, well, let’s give her some more time. Tom took early retirement.

9 responses to “I fought the law

  1. Hooray… have a wee bun!

  2. Thanks much birchsprite. A sticky one please.

  3. Ha, great post! The mighty hammer of justice is really really cool when it lands right beside you, just missing crushing you but still giving you a wee thrill. I hope you were wearing a trilby, there were dramatic venetian blinds creating harsh geometric lines, and that it was a black and white courtroom.

    Congratulations, Sniffy.

  4. Thanks Sam,
    Must buy a trilby and I grew up in black and white, so I blended . You’re right, it wasn’t really really scary, just a wee thrill. My mom’s best friend Olga was from the North, not sure which county, she always said wee too.
    I can hear her now.

  5. You grew up in the black and white days, really? I had you pegged for about 40, 45.

    I think we use wee a lot in Scotland because it brings stuff down to size. It’s more comfortable to make a problem diminutive; you can turn it around, give it a good look over and make fun of it better.

  6. I’m 48 , so good pegging. We didn’t get a colour camera (or TV) until I was 11 or 12, so most of the photos from back then are in B&W .
    I’ll think I’ll start using wee from now on . ( not be confused with the Nintendo WII thing which is on 24/7 in our house )

  7. She came from Antrim I think.

  8. Tom is actually a very good guy and, strange to say, BMBBG isn’t the worst either.

  9. You’re correct about Tom, conducts himself very well. BMBBG needs a hug though. She got me for flagrantly not wearing my seatbelt @ 11.00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, within touching distance of my house. I of course told her how Limerick would rest easy that evening, and how good a job she was doing hunting down criminals. My heroine was Kathleen.

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