48 Hour Short Story Contest

“Enough!” The loud booming voice, followed by four hard strikes of the gavel silenced the court room. All eyes turned to the angry judge. “Everyone take their seats. NOW.”

Chairs scraped on the floor as the prosecution and defense attorneys hauled their clients back behind their tables. A honking noise echoed through the room. The judge narrowed his eyes at the offender.

“My apologies, Your Honor. I seem to have caught a cold after my last performance. Consequently, I lost my job because I could not work the next night.”

The plaintiff jumped up. “I object!”

His lawyer pushed the small green insect back into his tiny chair on the table. “You can't do that. That's my job.” He stood up. “Your Honor, I object on my client's behalf. We are not here today to discuss the termination of Jolly's job. We should focus on the matter at hand, which is the amount of two thousand dollars, for damages to the circus tent, by the clown sitting over there.”

The clown's lawyer sat there, reading some papers sheathed in a manila folder. Jolly nudged him. “Shouldn't you be trying to say something to keep everyone from finding me guilty.”

The dwarf looked at him over wire rimmed glasses. “I didn't realize you had law school experience too. Perhaps I should let you defend yourself, since I'm not doing a good enough job.”

Jolly threw his hands in the air. “This is what I get for using a circus performer, who's only talent is lifting fake barbells into the air and pounding his friends on the head with mallets.”

The lawyer grabbed his glass of water from the table and threw it on the clown. Streaks of tanned flesh began to appear through the areas of missing white face pain. His red nose fell to the table with a pitiful squeak.

“Oh great. Tony, why'd you do that?”

Tony jumped into his chair and threw his hands out in the direction of the grasshopper and his lawyer. “I do not blame Jimmy for his actions. Sure, Jolly might have used a hammer, a real hammer I assure you, to hit the poles holding up the tent. But he was trying to place advertisements for his new brand of shoes. The Rubberman 3000.” He bent down and pulled a plain, brown cardboard box off the ground. Opening it, he pulled out a large, blue rubber shoe and held it up. “I present to the court, as evident for our trial, the prototype of Jolly's new shoe.”

The crowd exploded with oohs' and ahhs' as they studied the different type of clown shoe than the standard red type.

“Your Honor, I do not feel they should be allowed to use this court proceedings to reveal their new item.” The Ringleader leaded over the aisle for a closer look. “Even if that is a very nice shoe. Does that have arch support?”

Jolly stood up. “Yes, it does. And cushioned soles as well. We spend all day on our feet. Our customers rely on us being in tip-top shape for our performances. I think we deserve to have comfortable feet to help this. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Aye, I do. How much are you selling your shoes for?”

Jolly reached into the manila folder and grabbed a brightly colored poster. He held it up for everyone to see. “Only $29.99. A very fair price for happy feet, wouldn't you say?”

A green object began to bounce up and down on the table next to the Ringleader. “I object, I object. I want my money for the damages he caused.”

The judge banged his gavel. “We shall see. First, I want to hear how the damages happened.”

Jolly turned to him and nodded. “But of course, your Honor. You see, last week, as my friend, uh lawyer, said, I was posting these fliers. I used a hammer to nail one in each available spot, including on the main mast holding the tent up. As I whacked the metal into the wood, I heard a crack. I looked up and saw that the fabric above me was falling down. I'm very glad no one but myself was inside.”

The judge grunted. “So, your hammering is what broke the pole?”

He shook his head, his orange wig shifting with the movement. “No sir. The insurance agent came to investigate and we learned that the damage came from termites, not me. The wood had already become weak. I just brought it down completely. In all fairness, I should be given an award. What would have happened if that tent had come down when we were in the middle of a show? Many people could have been hurt.”

The grasshopper bounced up and down again. “By jolly, Jolly, you are right! You saved me thousands, maybe millions of dollars by finding my problem before lawsuits happened.”

Jolly grinned. “And I'm earning you money too!”

Jimmy's antennas twitched in interest. “How is that?”

Jolly pulled another paper out of the file and walked around his table and to the identical one where Jimmy sit atop. “I had this contract drawn up when I got my shoes patented. It guarantees you, my friend, boss and the inspiration for my design, ten percent of all profits. And each person who's an employee of your circus gets a free pair.”

Jimmy rubbed his legs together in the signature fashion of someone becoming greedy. “That sounds like a very fair proposition indeed. I think we have a deal. Your Honor, I'd like to drop all charges.”

The Judge threw his hands in the air. “There were no charges. This wasn't even a legal hearing. Court is adjourned. I'm going to go change now. This robe is killing me and I've got a date with the Bearded Lady in thirty minutes.”

The judge removed his robe to reveal a navy blue spandex costume, complete with shiny stars and silver beads. He walked away from the podium and out the metal side door of the cafeteria, and into the circus camp.

“Boy those trapeze people are high strung.”

The whole room laughed at Jolly's joke and they all stood in line to get a pair of the new and amazing shoes.

Word Count: 1105

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