Congratulations Fraudulent Lawyer!

There's lots of ways to make a living.  You make it as a lawyer.  But you're not a real lawyer.  You're a fraudulent lawyer!

"What does that mean?" the desperate young woman in your office will ask you.  "Do you specialize in fraud causes?"

You'll shake your head.

"Nope," you'll tell her, putting a cigarette out in the elaborate ivory ashtray on your desk.

"Then what?" she'll ask, holding out a cigarette for a light.

You'll put a lighter made out of a vintage hand grenade from WW2 and spark her up.  As she exhales into your face you'll breath it in, lick your lips real nice and creepy and whisper at her:

"I'm not a real lawyer."

She'll inhale and hold it, thinking, before she lets it out and punctuates her exhale with a "What?"

"I never passed the bar or went to law school, and I never appear in court.  I just trick people into giving me money, then relocate.  I share part of my earnings with my clients, to enlist them in keeping the authorities off my back."

"Really?" she'll say, rubbing your crotch through your pants.

"Really," you'll reply.

With that, she'll clap a handcuff on one of your wrists and then slip the other end on your chair.

"You're under arrest," she'll inform you, flashing a badge from the International Lawyer Commission.  You'll try to spit on her, but it'll just get on your pants, so you'll start flipping out, screaming at her.

"YA GOT ME AGAIN," you'll shout at her.  "GOD DAMN DAMES!  YA GOT ME AGAIN!"

Congratulations Fraudulent Lawyer!

Congratulations on Establishing New Defensible Grounds for Homicide!

Your latest client is a curious case. He killed his boss a few days ago in what could be considered a moment of rage following his unfair termination and was escorted out of his office by a cheering throng of supportive co-workers. He entered police custody without any sort of struggle and has been nothing but cooperative since his arrest. He is clearly sane, articulate, well educated, and generally not prone to violent outbursts.

You’ll get up in front of the judge and do your all to get his sentence down, citing his lack of violent behavior in the past, his full cooperation and his attempt to control violence, but the judge won’t want to hear about anything from you. He’ll just get the kid on the stand and talk to him.

The two will converse for several hours in front of a crowded courtroom, with occasional breaks where the young man’s co-workers come forward to defend his actions by describing how big of a douche their boss was. One woman will even come up and, tearfully, announce that she was once drugged and raped at an office event by her superior and that she did not come out publicly due to threats of termination. After this long, forum style discussion he’ll tell Jeremy to return to his seat at your bench and announce his decision.

“Time served,” he’ll mumble, then shuffle back off to his chambers.

In the write-up of the decision he’ll explain that he believes that the removal of certain excessively douchey people from our general populace is actually a public service, and that Jeremy was performing just such a service in a responsible, brave and honorable fashion. If anything he deserves some sort of reward, but the best our system can do for such a man is simply to let him walk free among the people he has given hope to.

You’ll scratch your head, collect your fee from the state and enjoy the business that being a part of one of the strangest legal precedents in recent history (just behind the dog one) brings with it.

Congratulations on Establishing New Defensible Grounds for Homicide!