Court was quiet that day. Too quiet. When Lenny Snorgenelli took on a case, there were usually at least a few screams or shrieks in the room. But everyone just sat around, scrolling through their phones or softly chatting. It was almost like a normal day at court.

Almost.

“Mr. Snorgenelli,” Judge Harker howled. “Where in tarnation is your defendant?”

Lenny leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his back. “Which defendant you talking about, your honor?”

“The one you’re supposed to be defending today! Why, I say! He’s later than an asthmatic to the finish line of one of my ol’ Kentucky jump ‘n hops.” 

That defendant, Rick Scaramucci, had already gained a bit of notoriety in legal circles. No self-respecting lawyer would defend him. He was just so obviously guilty. But Lenny was no self-respecting lawyer. When Scaramucci was booked for holding up a liquor store, the Big Brain of Beantown came running!

Lindsay Winetown, the prosecutor, had already started putting her documents back in her briefcase. Big John the bailiff rolled his big eyes. Everything seemed over before it had even started. In spite of all of this, Lenny smiled. “Oh, that defendant. He’s just out there… proving his innocence!”

The Judge covered his face in his hands, little bursts of anger slipping out through the cracks in his fingers. “Why, Lenny, you sure know how to get my goat! I don’t know what kind of tomfoolery you’re trying to rope me into, but this court will not have it today! I say, it will not have it!”

“Well then,” Lenny smirked. “I guess court is dismissed. Isn’t it your honor?” 

Harker let go of his face. There was no hiding his fury now. “Now you know it ain’t proper for a lawyer to dismiss the court. The judge does. And I’m curious as to why you’re so eager to get this over with. You know if your client doesn’t show up, your goose is as good as cooked.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, your honor. Has anybody here noticed that all the doors have been shut?” The crowd started looking around. “Now, that isn’t necessarily unusual. What is unusual is that the doors are LOCKED!”

As soon as the words left his lips, everyone rose out of their seats and ran for the doors. He wasn’t lying. No matter how hard they tried, the doors wouldn’t budge. Big John parted the crowd and made his way toward Lenny. Lifting the lawyer by his collar, he let his hot, onion-smelling breath waft into Lenny’s nose. “What do ya think you’re pulling, bub?”

“Easy there, big boy. You’ll find your answers right here.” He pulled out his phone and joined an Instagram live stream. “I suggest you all go to @LennysLegalEase and see what I’m talking about.” Whether it was out of fear or curiosity, everybody did what he asked. Everybody but Judge Harker.

“I won’t stand for this chicanery, you no-brained, raggedy, big—-”

Winetown cut him off. “Judge, you’re going to want to see this.” She handed him her phone. The Judge’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets. “My wife!!”

The livestream Lenny had urged everyone to watch showed a knife-wielding Scaramucci standing next to a woman tied to a chair. The crowd started screaming. “Now, now. There’s no need to be scared. The lovely Mrs. Harker isn’t in any danger. My client is just making a point.”

Big John slammed Lenny against a wall. “If you don’t call that goon off, I’ll make a point of showing everyone what your brains look like!”

“Geez, Louis! Judge, you’re just gonna let him talk to me this way?”

“HE’S GOING TO KILL MY WIFE!”

Lenny tsked tsked. “No, he’s not your honor. You see, when I started talking to the guy, I soon saw that he knew too much about violence to be caught this easily. He was like a crime nerd, this guy. We’re talking murder, robbery, assault… all the big ones. So, I’m just trying to show he could commit a crime and get away with it. I guess I could’ve had him do his first crime again, but I figured that would involve too many people. So, I figured we should just make our point with one.”

“MY WIIIIIIFFFFEEEE!”

Lenny snickered. “Hey, Borat. High-strung much?” Big John threw Lenny aside and marched over to the door. He lifted his arms up and smacked them down against the wood, using every muscle in his body to try and force the door open. It didn’t work.

“Now, I’m telling you, my client knows what he’s doing. He sealed those doors shut like nobody’s business. The police are all on the other side of town answering a phony call about a gang war or something. Nobody’s coming and help us. So, why don’t we just sit down, relax, and watch my client prove himself a good man?”

On the livestream, Scaramucci covered the floors with plastic wrap. He then rolled out a carpet on the other side of the room.

“That’s to hide the body… theoretically!” Lenny remarked.

 After this was done, Scaramucci sat down on the floor, smiling, and sharpened his knife. 

Winetown ran over to Lenny. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I never thought you’d help kill somebody!” 

“Why’s everybody talking about a murder? I’m defending my client”. Just then, a shrill laugh seemed to project itself across the room a dozen times over. It was Scaramucci. Lenny picked up his phone. “I’m just gonna go ahead and check on how it’s going real quick.”

 Through the stream, everyone heard Scaramucci’s phone ring. He answered it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Rick. We all heard you laughing.”

“Oh shit! Hold on. Let me mute this thing.”

Lenny continued the call. “You know we’re just making a point here, right? I get that you’re having fun, but you’ve got to bring it down a step, bud. Okay? If you do what I say, we’ll go get some Ben & Jerry’s. Would you like that? Would you like some Phish Food ice cream from Ben & Jerry’s? Good. Love you!” Lenny hung up.

Scaramucci dropped his phone and marched over to Mrs. Harker, knife in hand. He raised it high, a smile beaming on his face, and then… he brought it down.

“EMILOU!!!!!!” The Judge cried.

“Wait, your honor. Keep watching.”

Rick Scaramucci stopped his knife about a centimeter over Mrs. Harker’s forehead. He then took a bottle of ketchup out of a duffel bag and sprayed her with it. “That’s supposed to represent the blood,” chimed Lenny. 

The Judge shrivelled into a ball and started crying. Big John walked back to Lenny. “Alright, you made your point. Or you think you did. Now let her go.”

“Well, he’s still got to wrap Mrs. Harker in the rug, put her in his truck, and escape. But he’ll just drive around the block a few times and put her back. Don’t worry.” Lenny stood up on his desk. “Now, I think it’s clear that if Rick Scramucci wanted to commit a crime, even one as heinous as murder, he’d get away with it easily. There’s no way he could have done something like flash a subway car and been caught. I hope you can all sleep more easily at night knowing that this man is not a criminal.”

Winetown rubbed her temples. “Lenny, that’s another guy. You’re thinking of one of your other clients.”

“Shit, really?” Lenny went through his briefcase. “What the hell was I gonna do for this guy then?”

A mistrial was declared because A: Lenny had submitted evidence and presented a case for a completely different client, and B: because the Judge’s wife being involved presented a massive conflict of interest. Mrs. Harker was returned home just as Lenny promised, but Rick Scaramucci, on the other hand, disappeared. 

“He’ll be back,” Lenny told us in a follow-up interview. “We’ve got a date for some Ben & Jerry’s!”