Scrambled Justice

The judge, who looked remarkably like King Hiram, eyed them irritably. "What are all you dingdong boys doin' here?" he asked crankily. "The bank guard's mother's supposed to hear the cases 'fore I get 'em."

"There's no time for that, Your Honor," the bank guard replied. "These criminals are in a hurry to get to jail."

"Pushy, eh?" the judge said to the Monkees. "You must be foreigners. That's two strikes against you right there. Sure you want to go through with the rest of the trial?"

"Your Honor, we are not on trial," Micky replied.

"I'll decide that!" the judge roared. He addressed the bank guard and the leader of the soldiers. "What's the question before the court?" he asked. "And make it short-- these criminals are in a hurry to get to jail."

"The question is," the bank guard replied, "who arrested the criminals first, me or the soldiers? Now, I don't want to influence the court in any way, but I would like to point out that I have considerable influence at the bank-- in case the judge would care to borrow a large sum of eggs and forget to pay it back."

"I object!" the leader of the soldiers shouted.

"To that attempt to bribe me?" the judge asked.

"No, to the way he put the question," the leader of the soldiers replied. "Actually, the question is, why did he claim to be the first to arrest the criminals when he knew all along that, in fact, I was the first?"

"I object to that objection!" the bank guard objected.

The judge banged his gavel. "Order in the court!" he roared. "Since we can't agree on the question, we'll just skip it and proceed with the proceedin's." Again he banged the gavel. "I'm ready to announce the verdict," he said. "I find the defendants guilty as charged. Now, let's get on with the trial. Bank guard, call your last witness!"

"Just a minute," Davy interrupted. "If youy've already reached a verdict, Your Honor, why go on with the trial?"

"To find out how I reached it," the judge replied. "We need all that in-between stuff for the records."

"As my last witness, I call this one," the bank guard said, indicating Micky. "Take the stand, young man."

"That's stealing," Micky said. "I'm in enough trouble as it is, robbing a bank and breaking jail."

"See how honest and upright he is, Judge?" The bank guard smiled. "That's proof positive that you can trust his testimony."

"Not likely," the judge grumbled. "He can tell the truth all he wants to, but I'll know he's lyin'. I can see that long hair!"

The bank guard whispered to Micky. "Shorten your hair," he said. "It'll make a good impression on the judge."

"I can't," Micky whispered back. "It just grows this way."

"Get it to squat down a little."

"Stop coachin' the witness!" the judge shouted, banging his gavel again. "Proceed with the questionin' at once!"

"Be seated, witness," the bank guard said.

Micky settled in the witness chair.

"All right, ask me anything," the bank guard said. "Anything at all. My whole life is an open book."

Micky leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. "Now, think before you answer this," he said. "I'm warning you, it's a trick question. Ready?"

"Shoot!"

"Here's the question," Micky said. "Who's your little whozit? Who's the one you love? Who's your little whozit? Who's your turtledove?"

"Shucks, that's easy," the bank guard replied. "It's Mom."

"Stop!" the leader of the soldiers suddenly shouted in anguish. "I can't stand it!" he sobbed. "You're destroying a fine human being with your savage interrogation! I confess! I did it!"

"That was a trickier question than I thought," Micky said, surprised. "I expected the judge to confess."

The judge banged his gavel once more. "Now we're gettin' somewhere," he said. "We know who did it. Let's find out what it was he did. Anybody got any ideas?"

"Let's ask him," Mike suggested, pointing to the leader of the guards. "He's the one who confessed."

"I object!" the bank guard said. "You know the old saying: Ask a tricky question and get a tricky answer. If he's allowed to answer, I'll lose the case."

"I demand the right to have my confession heard!" the leader of the soldiers said.

"All right, we'll hear it. But it'll be off-the-record," the judge said. "If we don't like it, we'll just pretend you didn't say it. What do you confess to?"

The leader of the soldiers smiled triumphantly. "I confess that I was the one who arrested the criminals first," he replied.

"The court didn't hear that," the judge ruled. "Proceed with the trial."

"I wish to call a character witness, Your Honor," the bank guard said. He pointed to Peter. "That one."

"That's character, all right," the judge replied. "Request granted."

Micky stepped down and Peter took the stand.

"Bring that back here!" the judge raged.

Looking sheepish, Peter returned the stand. Then he sat down in the witness chair.

"How long have you known the defendants, young man?" the bank guard asked.

Peter spread his hands. "About that long," he answered.

"Long enough," the bank guard said, "to know that, in spite of anything to the contrary that might be revealed in this courtroom, they are a bunch of no-good, low-down, good-for-nothin' bad guys?"

"Clear the court!" the judge shouted, banging his gavel angrily. "I won't have criminals like that in my courtroom! Get those no-goods out of here!"

"Heard enough evidence, eh, Judge?" The bank guard beamed.

"No, that has nothin' to do with it," the judge replied. "It's time for lunch. Let's see now," he said. "We've had the verdict and we've had the trial.... How do we wind this thing up?"

"You read the charges against the defendants, Judge," the leader of the soldiers answered.

"That sounds familiar." The judge nodded. He addressed the Monkees. "You are charged with gettin' yourselves arrested by both a bank guard and the police and the king's soldiers, thereby startin' an argument and creatin' a public disturbance." He rapped his gavel. "Case closed," he announced.

"We object!" the Monkees shouted in unison.

"What's your objection?" the judge asked sharply. "And make it snappy-- you're on my lunch hour."

"We thought the guards and the police and the soldiers were on trial," Davy explained.

"Ignorance is no excuse," the judge ruled, pounding his gavel again. "Everybody out!"

The Monkees, the bank guard, the policemen, and the soldiers departed. They collected in a circle outside the Supreme Court building.

"How did it come out?" the bank guard asked the leader of the soldiers. "Who gets custody of the criminals?"

"All I know is, I was listening for the part where I won, and I didn't hear it," the leader of the soldiers replied.

"That's what I was listening for, too, and I didn't hear it, either," the bank guard sighed. "What do we do now?"

"Let's call it a draw and release the prisoners into their own custody," Davy suggested.

"That's not fair," the bank guard complained. "I ought to get them. I arrested them first."

"Says who!" the leader of the soldiers snapped. "I arrested them first."

The bank guard pulled back a fist. "How'd you like ot get called a nasty name?" he demanded belligerantly.

The leader of the soldiers pulled back a fist, too. "Oh, yeah! How'd you like to get kicked in the shins with an army boot?"

"I'll take this to the Supreme Court!" the bank guard threatened.

"Oh, no-- not that again!" Mike protested. "There must be an easier and faster way. Let's flip a coin."

The bank guard and the leader of the soldiers peered at him, puzzled.

"A what?" they asked in unison.

"An egg," Mike replied.

"Good idea," the bank guard said. He got an egg from his pocket. "Big end or little end?" he asked the leader of the soldiers.

"Not so fast," the leader of the soldiers replied. "Let me see that egg."

The bank guard handed it over.

"Okay," the leader of the soldiers said, after inspecting it closely. "I just wanted to be sure it wasn't one of those trick eggs with two little ends and no big end. I've been caught on that one before." He pondered a moment, then said, "I'll take the big end."

"First, let's make sure there's no disagreement about the rules," Micky said. "Will the first toss decide it, or will it be two out of three?"

"When you toss an egg, there's no second chance," the leader of the soldiers replied.

"Here she goes!" the bank guard said.

He tossed the egg high into the air. Everybody stepped back. A moment later the egg hit the sidewalk and splattered. There was more of the big end left, however, than there was of the little end.

"Well, that's the way the egg splatters." The bank guard shrugged. "They're your prisoners," he said to the leader of the soldiers.

"Tell you what," the leader of the soldiers said. "As soon as they finish serving that life sentence for me, you can have them for the next thirty years."

"Well, thanks, anyway," the bank guard replied. "But by then, I'll probably be too old to enjoy it." He saluted smartly-- a gesture signifying acceptance of defeat-- and then he and the police departed.

There was obvious respect in the eyes of the leader of the soldiers as he watched the bank guard go. "It's an honor to win over a man like that," he said. "Or over anybody, for that matter," he added. He turned to the Monkees. "March!" he ordered. "Back to the cell with the lot of you!"

With soldiers in front of them and soldiers in back of them, the Monkees began the long trek back to the castle.

"You know--" Mike began.

"Are you gong to be an alarmist again?" Peter asked.

"That's not my intention," Mike replied. "But still, I think we ought to recognize the fact that if we're going to jail for life, we're not going to get The Button back to Washington as soon as we had expected to."

"Is that all?" Davy said. "I was afraid you were going to point out that as soon as we get back to the castle the king will probably have us frisked and will find The Button."

"Yi!" Micky cried. "That's terrible!" Then, frowning, he said, "Or is it? I sort of lost track. Do we still have The Button?"

"It's in my pocket," Mike replied.

"Then we have to do something drastic before we get back to the castle and King Hiram has us frisked," Micky said.

"I guess it's my turn to do something drastic," Peter said.

"Brave lad!" Davy said.

"I'm doing it for all humanity," Peter said. "And nothing's too good for humanity-- especially the dogs."

"Stout fellow!"

"Just one thing," Peter said. "When all this is over, and the world is safe for the automoblie and the airplane and the electric toothbrush again, I'd like to have a monument erected in my honor. Nothing showy. About the size of the state of Rhode Island would be enough."

"That's the least we could do," Micky said.

"Then I'm ready," Peter said.

"What exactly are you going to do?" Davy asked.

"I'm going to volunteer Mike to swallow The Button," Peter answered.

Mike shook his head. "I couldn't let you do that," he said. "Suppose someday I ate something heavy and it landed on The Button? The whole civilized world as we know it-- PHROOOOM!"

"Then we'll have to ditch it somewhere along the way and pick it up later, after we finish serving our life sentence," Peter said.

"I like that better than the first drastic idea," Mike said.

"Look. Up ahead." Micky pointed. "See that little table sitting on the sidewalk next to the building? The one with the colorful skirt and the flowerpot on top?"

"The flowerpot with the colorful flowers?" Mike asked.

"Right," Micky replied. "Why not drop The Button in among the flowers? With all that color, who'll notice a black button?"

Mike thought for a moment. "I give up," he answered. "Who?"

"Nobody," Micky replied.

"Say, that gives me an idea," Davy said. "How about dropping The Button in among those colorful flowers in that flowerpot atop that small table with the colorful skirt? Nobody'll notice it there."

Micky shook his head disgustedly. "Of all the dumb ideas...."

"It's our only chance," Mike said. "When we reach that flowerpot, you distract the soldiers' attention some way, and I'll get rid of The Button."

"I just hope, later on, we can remember those flowers," Davy said. "A lifetime is a long stretch."

"We couldn't possibly forget them," Peter said confidently.

"Why not?"

"They're forget-me-nots."

Hah! You could," Davy repied. "You can't even remember the Alamo."

"What Alamo?" Peter asked.

"Knock it off!" Mike said. "That flowerpot is only a few steps away. Do something!"

As they reached the flowerpot, Micky suddenly halted and pointed up into the sky. "Look!" he cried. "It's a bird! It's a plane! It's--"

"It's none of them!" the leader of the guards growled. "That's a comic book character. He's always flyin' around up there! No more stalling! Get a move on!"

The march continued.

"Did you do it?" Micky asked Mike.

"Yup. It's as safe as a button in a pot full of forget-me-nots."

Davy looked back. "That's only about half-safe," he said. "Remember that little table in the colorful skirt with the flowerpot sitting on it?"

"It rings a bell," Micky answered.

"Well, that little table in a colorful skirt with a flowerpot sitting on it was no little table in a colorful skirt with a flowerpot sitting on it," Davy reported. "It was a lady midget wearing a funny hat."

The others looked back. The lady midget with the funny hat was now strolling along in the other direction. A moment later she disappeared into the crowd.