Assault With a Deadly Pie

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I was stoking-up a bong in my room when the phone rang. 

“Yeah?” I answered, still holding in the hit of weed. 

“Billius, man.  The DPS were just here with pictures of the Butler pieing.” Marcus reported.

I exhaled a long plume of blue smoke that swirled and hung over the coffee table.  “Where did they get the pictures?”

“I guess they blew them up from the videotape of the lecture.  Marcus began to chuckle,  “You should have seen them, man.  Mick was standing there, dressed as a Chef with his sunglasses on.  He had the biggest smirk on his face.”

“What did the DPS say?”

“He said that the pictures can be used against us as evidence.  He knows it was us.”


“Well, you could recognize Mick and Les.  You could tell who they were, even with the sunglasses”, Marcus pointed out. 

“Bummer.  We’ll have to disguise ourselves better.”  That was my new concern.  

“What should we do?” Marcus asked.

The sinister wheels were once again turning in my mind. “Doesn’t the campus offer free legal counsel somewhere?" I asked, trying to remember something that I had once heard or read or assumed. 

“Yeah, I think the law school does, or something” was all Marcus could tell me.

“I’ll check it out tomorrow.  Don’t worry.  Viva Les Chefs!” I said as I Hung up.

“Viva Les Chefs", was Marcus' half-hearted response.


The campus legal office was filled with serious people doing serious things with serious looks on their faces so I didn’t want to spend too much time there.  I had phoned campus information and was given the number.  I arrived and checked in at the front desk where I was required to sign my name and student number.  I didn’t like that fact, but I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to get counseling.   I changed the last digit of the number just to be safe. 

The wait wasn’t long and the secretary ushered me into an office at the end of the hall.  The law professor stood and shook my hand as I entered, offering me a seat.  I sized him up.  He was plump with a balding scalp and a gray business suit.

“Please sit down, Mr…Billius” he said, pausing to verify the unusual name. “Is that your given name?”

“Yeah”, I replied.  “It was given to me by my parents.  They’re Greek hippies".  Nothing could have been farther from the truth.  My folks were of Greek descent, but of the moderate conservative Republican variety.  The law professor became a little wary of me.

            “I see.  Now then, what can I do for you?” 

I needed to protect myself while gathering information.  “I have a hypothetical question for you.”


“Yeah, I’m writing a paper.”  That was always a good cover-up in a university setting.  I didn’t know if the professor had heard about the Chefs yet.

“All right, go ahead.  I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay, here’s the situation”, I began.  “Two students run onto a classroom with pies.”

“No crime there”, was the professor’s legal response.

“The professor holds up a pitcher of water, like he’s going to throw it at the students.”

“No crime there.”

“One of the students with the pies opens an umbrella.”

“No crime there.”

“The student’s throw the pies at the professor.”

The professor started to show some interest.  “Do the pies hit the professor?”

“One of them does, as an act of self defense against the pitcher of water”, I said, trying to cover the Chefs actions, making it seem like it was Butler’s fault.

“Did the professor ever throw the water?”


“And one of the pies, thrown by the student, hit the professor?”


“Well, technically it could be considered assault and battery since the pie did make contact.”

“What, assault with a deadly pie?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, but you asked me.  I’m just telling you how the law could consider it.  Nothing can be done, of course, if the professor doesn't press charges”.

“Yeah, thanks”, I said, rising.  As I took a step toward the door I turned back with an afterthought.  “This doesn’t cost anything does it?”

“No, we offer free advice to all of our students." the law professor said, smiling.  “If, however you need our services please don’t hesitate to call.”  He reached in his pocket and handed me his card. 

I thanked him and left the office, tossing the card in the trash can outside the door.  The professor saw this and retrieved the card, placing

it back in his pocket.  After all, it probably cost him a dime.

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