Deer Head Trial Lawyer

“I object!” screamed Ted. A small amount spit came from his deer mouth as he stood up to decry such outrageous claims against his client.
“On what grounds?” asked Mark, the douchebag big city lawyer in his chameleon skin suit.
“As a lawyer and man with a deers head I take great offense at the accusation that my client was listening to ABBA records whilst knitting. I have clearly established, with an alibi mind you, that at the time of the crime my client was at home making pineapple flavored yogurt and watching Jeopardy. You have no proof to present to the court and frankly are making a mockery of our judicial system.”
“Do you even know what a pineapple is Ted? It’s a communist fruit. Clear and simple. Take that liberal agenda of yours and place it in your glovebox to be forgotten about until the next time you get pulled over by the fashion police.” said Mark with a douchebag smile on his face that could make Margaret Thatcher tell him to eat shit and die.
The judges gavel came crashing down with a crash that could silence Rosie O’Donnell.
“Gentlemen, I will not have my court turned into a mockery of a farce of our legal system. Control yourselves or else I will be forced to recess these hearings until tomorrow. Unless, you wanna get some kind of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome kind of thing going? Which, to be honest, I’m kind of into. Two men enter, one man leave? Huh?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary your honor.” said Ted.
“Alright, too bad.” said the judge with a sigh. “Let’s get back to the case at hand. Now, Mark you claim the accused used a Super Mario Bros 2 cartridge to prop up a paint can on top of a door so that it would fall onto the head of the next person who walked through that door. Correct?”
“Um, no your honor. That’s not it at all.”
“Oh. It’s not?” asked the judge. “Damn, I’ve got to stop trying to organize my Survivor DVD’s at the bench. What have you guys been talking about for the last forty five minutes?”
“Allow me to interject your honor.” said Ted. His online law degree instinct was telling him that now was the time to try and win over the judge. He hadn’t been paying attention to anything Mark had been saying. This was the perfect time to bring out the big guns and win this case.
“My client is accused of listening to 70’s Swedish pop music and knitting a hand grenade to kill the President with. It is my defense that he was not involved in such acts and was actually at home creating a recipe for homemade pineapple yogurt and watching Jeopardy with his mother. Now, don’t let my deers head on a mans body fool you. I’m not going to get stuck in any headlights here. I have here to present to the court clear and conclusive evidence that my client is innocent.”
“And what evidence is that?” asked Mark in that snarky kind of way only real jerks know how to do. You know, the kind of jerks that park their BMW in a handicapped space and then run inside because it’s no big deal. Jerk.
“My client is colorblind.” Ted spoke, then pausing, allowing the room to go silent for dramatic purposes. He’d always wanted to do that ever since graduating from Carl’s Online Law School and Dried Meat of the Month Club.
“I rest my case.” He finished with remembering that you gotta say that at the end when you’re done.
The judge sighed and stared down at his bench. At first Mark and Ted couldn’t tell what it was the judge was sighing about. Was it Ted’s evidence or the fact that he couldn’t find his Jeff Probst’s Biggest Bloopers companion DVD? Unfortunately for Ted, it was his evidence.
“That has to be one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever heard and I watch reality TV ten hours a day. Being color blind has nothing to do with wether or not your client likes such sweet, sweet pop music. Obviously, you are new at this Ted. So, I will give you some advice. On your next case actually do some research and provide evidence that can prove your clients innocence. That is probably the best place to start. I find the accused guilty of attempted hand-knitted grenade murder. The sentence is ten years watching the film adaptation of Stephen King’s IT four times a day. Let Tim Curry’s performance remind you of what makes our nation great. This court is adjourned. Good day gentleman.”
The judge got up and left the courtroom. Singing Papa Don’t Preach under his breath not realizing that song is by Madonna and not ABBA. Ted lowered his head in shame, turning to his client not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Sorry Alec Baldwin. I tried my best.”
“It’s okay Ted. I’m sure you did. Thank you.” said Alec Baldwin as the bailiff walked him out of the courtroom to be transported back to his holding cell where he would wait to be brought out to the Alamo to serve his sentence.
Ted packed up his things, making sure not to forget his squirt gun collection, and headed out of the courtroom trying to avoid talking to Mark.
“Nice try big guy. Maybe next time try being only one mammal and you might have more luck. Oh! Burn!” Said Mark proving how much of bluetooth headset kind of jerkface he is.
But Ted didn’t let it get to him. He walked out of that courtroom with his deer-head held high. Knowing that on his next case he had a serious sixty forty against chance of winning.