“Okay, maybe not an Astronaut, I’m simply not going to allow myself to be confined in a box for a week or however long it takes to travel in space these days but rest assured I am capable of it if necessary. You do want to hear about the trial?” Arthur didn’t even stop long enough for me to answer. “We end up in front of the Honorable Jim Rogers, Jr., the judge with the internal combustible engine for a mind. Explodes thirty times a minute. Not quite explode – he builds up to an explosion but then at the last moment contains himself and all you hear is this faint whisper. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing Mr. Famish.’ After he’d said this for the tenth time in front of the jury I must have given him a slightly angry look – and for the first time I heard his voice come out loud and angry – ‘Are you eyeballing me!!!’ I was startled and continued to gaze at him. ‘You better not be eyeballing me!’ I responded with perfect dignity even if I say so myself – I looked at the ground and said ‘I am not eyeballing your honor.’ That’s all I said. Lovely isn’t it? I actually expected applause from the jury. But they continued to look on as they had from the start of this trial – in complete and utter boredom.”
