~~~~~~

I've told you before of some of the regulars to the chambers. Recently, we've added a new one. I have noticed that they all seem to be immigrants. I don't know why that is. I should apply for a grant to study it but I think we all know I'm too lazy to do that.

Anyway, yesterday I was facing a deadline so I arrived in the chambers with my head down and my fingers arched, ready to whip up a masterwork of legal analysis and reasoning. I was ready to break the case, affect the issuance of precedent, carve my name in the trunk of jurisprudence.

There were significant obstacles in my path. Some I knew of, like I knew the Princess would be yammering about her butt exam, for example. I knew she'd be seeking my comfort and fretting over physicians referrals and the negative effects of anaesthesia on one as sensitive as she. She did not disappoint.

I knew Judge Magoo would be in and he'd have documents he'd wish to discuss with me, documents of little challenge and less value.

However, I could never have anticipated the arrival of Mr. Krapopolis. Minutes after I'd taken my seat at my desk, Ilene glided around the corner. "Brian," she sighed. "There's a man. Out in reception. He wants to speak to an attorney. I know, I know. I've told him we don't have any attorneys, we have law clerks, and they cannot offer advice to people who wander in off the street. I've explained it. I've explained this is a judge's chambers and not a law firm. I tried."

She stood there looking at me. I looked back. The Princess busied herself as inconspicuiously as she knew how. I took a sip of my coffee and straightened my sweater. "So?" I asked.

"Well, he wants to speak to someone." Iris explained.

"And?" I prodded.

"Well, I mean come on, here Brian! I mean, I only know so much! I'm just a receptionist. It's not my job to, you know, talk to him. Not when he just won't listen!"

I took a deep breath to center myself. I collected a steno pad and a pen from my drawer and allowed Ilene to show me to the stranger in reception. There was a sturdy looking fireplug of a man, I'd say about 60 or so, standing in a trenchcoat. He had on his traveling cap and three piece suit, complete with loudly patterned vest and matching bow tie. He wore a stern expression and was clearly all business.

I extended my hand introducing myself as Judge Selma's law clerk.

"I am Mr. Krapopolis. I here to see lawyer!"

"Ok, Mr. Krapopolis, in that case, you've come to the wrong place. We have no lawyers here."

"I have court order from Judge Selma, see? I have Judge Selma order and they ignore it say it in mail, but I call them and they say we mail tomorrow on Friday and how can that be that it in mail and mailed on Friday they lie to me, the try to kill me, they want me dead, and what you say to that? Huh? What you say to that? Huh? Huh? What you say? To that? Huh?"

"Are you saying someone is trying to kill you?" I asked hesitantly.

Mr. Krapopolis rolled his eyes up in his head and put his hands on his hips. "Yes yes yes. Of course! I just say that. Why you think I here?"

"Right. Ok. Well. When someone is trying to kill you, in this country anyway, you don't come to a Judge's chambers. You call the police. Did you call the police?"

"You really stupid," Mr. Krapopolis declared. "Stupid. I CAN'T CALL POLICE BECAUSE THEY THE ONES TRYING TO KILL ME, OK? You don't call up murderers and say, 'oh yes. Time to come murder me now at my house at this address now.' Of course I no call police."

"Wait. Why are the police trying to kill you?"

"See, because I know, ok? I pull into parking space and open car door this much and bullet come whizzing by, SHOOOOOOOM, like that and if I open door more and come out of car they would have kill me. They try to kill me 4 times. Here I show you."

He laid his brief case flat on the floor and fell to all fours. He opened it and produced a document, which he handed me."

"Sir," I said, "this is a police report for an automobile accident. It says you were involved in a hit and run. Did they ever find the guy who hit you?"

"Stupid stupid stupid! They hit me, they try to kill me with the car, but I catch them and I say, you try to kill me, why? and he no answer me but I see him two months three months later and I catch him and I say I have partial license plate and the police do nothing and I still alive! I still alive! They try to kill me seven times now."

I decided to try another tactic. "Ok. Well, that's all very interesting. Why have you come today? What exactly did you want me to do for you?"

"I have papers here I want evidence to give Judge Selma."

"Ok. Wait. Do you have an appeal? When was your trial across the street in the courthouse?"

"I have appeal, that trial over across is done with and they ignore order of Judge Selma which I have here."

I took the documents he wished to add to the record and the order he'd been yelling about since he arrived and looked them over. The order was an order granting leave to appeal, nothing more. He'd been given permission to pursue his case on appeal, he'd won nothing. The documents he handed me were letters he received from his adversary that accompanied doctor's reports characterizing him as a "raving madman" and "in serious need of psychiatric care."

"They trying to kill me, you know? What? I should lay down my life for them? What? The police they take the money from the mafia, and the FBI too. I have friend in FBI who tell me so. See, look I show you."

He produced another document from an Assemblyman in another state. It was a form letter thanking Mr. Krapopolis for his correspondence.

"I not gonna die for them. I need help with this, ok? I need to see the Judge Selma for to let her know this happening right here under her nose on her street. She is chief judge, should know! They try to kill me just this morning for the 11th time!"

It was at about that time when the police burst in and carted Mr. Krapopolis away. Ellen had triggered the silent alarm as his demeanor and tone of voice had become increasingly erratic and hostile.

I've just given a statement to the police regarding the situation.

I do love my job.

Posted at 1:25 p.m.

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