The Bullpen Gospels - Dirk Hayhurst [67]
“Yes.”
“What did you do after you looked up the porn?”
“I went back to my room.”
“Did you try to do anything else on the computer?”
No answer.
“Did you do anything else on the computer, and need we remind you, you are under oath.”
“No.”
“Did you turn off the computer and exit the room.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t masturbate in the room before you left.”
“Hell no! Come on dude!”
“Did you print anything while you were on the computer?”
“No.”
“No?”
“NO!”
“Your honors, it’s true when White Chocolate says he did not print anything off the computer. The fact of the matter is, he tried and the computer would not print.” The prosecutor turned and gestured to all in a very theatrical manner. “Sometimes computers and printers don’t connect like they should. Chalk it up to Windows. Sometimes the printer receives the instructions to print and saves it in its memory until the computer is restarted and whatever signals were crossed work themselves out.
“As it would happen, just today, we, along with our host mother, went into the office to look something up on the Internet for her.” Chocolate’s head sunk. “When the computer turned on, the printer began printing items stored in its memory. At this time, we would like to submit the following evidence to the court.”
The roommates’ lawyers handed seven printed photos of nude, extra dark chocolate women. Each in an exotic pose: spreading, bending, begging. The lawyers laid the pictures down before the courtroom to the roaring laughter of everyone present. Judges fell on each other laughing. People in the court rolled onto the floor. White Chocolate turned to red chocolate.
“Chocolate, are you serious?” a judge asked.
“It wasn’t me,” he offered.
“Yeah, right. Who else lives there and is obsessed with black women?”
At this point, one of the guys on the team who was black came over to inspect the photos and declared, “I know you like black ladies and all, but damn, Chocolate! At least you could have looked up some good-looking ones. This here is some fucked-up shit!”
“Your honors, I would like the court to know we were present as each photo printed painfully slowly in front of our host mother. She was so embarrassed, we had to escort her from the room. We would like the court to take her pain and suffering into consideration when it rules.”
“Do you have anything to say for yourself White Chocolate?”
“What can I say? I like black women. I didn’t know it would print out like that though. It’s not my fault.”
“You really must have been horny,” one of the judges said. “You printed it out seven times.”
“Five,” another judge corrected. “This one is crawling, that one is doing splits—the other one with the lollipop is a repeat.”
“Got a thing for lollipops, Chocolate?”
“How does the court rule?” a prosecutor asked, pleased with the production.
We convened to discuss the issue. It was an open-and-shut case for our cybercrimes division.
“Chocolate, here is your fine. A buck for each picture you printed out and three bucks for embarrassing yourself and your roommates in front of your host mother. You owe your host mom an apology when you see her again, and you owe your roommates dinner for dragging them into this.”
“I didn’t drag them into this. They were the ones who made a big deal.”
“Chocolate, seriously?” an incredulous roommate of his asked. “You tried to print out hard-core porn in front of our host mom. Why would you even print it out?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to do my thing in her office,” he said, making a lewd gesture.
“Why would you even look it up on her computer?”
“Because, bro, I’m a man. I got needs.” More laughter came from the crowd.
“Chocolate, just don’t say anything. If you keep talking I’m sure the fine will get worse.”
The first case of today’s court, the first court of the season, was against Slappy. Go figure.
The official court reader, Maddog, pulled the complaint from the box and spoke, “Okay, this fine is on Slappy.”
“Guilty!” Slappy yelled, jokingly. The courtroom, which was our locker room with