Page 1 of Final Verdict
OPENING STATEMENT (N.):
THE EXPLANATION BY THE ATTORNEYS FOR BOTH SIDES AT THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIAL OF WHAT WILL BE PROVED DURING THE TRIAL.
JAMESON
Every lawyer is a liar disguised in a smile and a threatening three-piece suit—a human snake that’s willing to swallow the worst client’s case for the right price.
What’s left of their tortured hearts is tucked deep in their pockets, all because the pain of living from verdict to verdict is far too much to keep in their chests.
Contrary to what we’re taught in law school, the courtroom is not a place to fight for justice; it’s a stage where the jury is the ultimate audience, and the best actor wins.
Unfortunately, I have yet to receive all the awards and accolades I deserve, but my undefeated record speaks for itself.
It’s only during moments like today, for cases like this, that I wonder if my A-list acting can overcome how much the jury despises mydefinitelyguilty client…
“Spit out the gum,” I say to her. “And don’t roll your eyes when the judge reads the verdict.”
“It’s not gum.” She sticks out a tongue full of crushed red candy. “These are cherry Pop Rocks.”
“Spit them out. Now.”
“Okay.” She winks and bends down under our table, staring into my eyes as she drools into the trash can. Just like she drooled over an undercover police officer’s cock in exchange for drugs—the very incident that brought us here.
“There.” She licks her lips as she sits up. “Happy, Mr. Tate?”
I hope he locks your ass up for life.
“All rise for the jury!” the bailiff announces.
I stand to my feet and watch their faces, trying to see which way they voted, but their faces are stoic as stone.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks.
“Yes, Your Honor, we have,” the foreperson says.
The judge motions for the bailiff to retrieve the form, and out of the corner of my eye I catch one of the jurors—a brunette woman in the back—shaking her head at my client.
Dammit.
“On the first count of solicitation of prostitution,” the judge reads, “this jury finds the defendant, Clarissa Ridgeland, not guilty.”
Miss Ridgeland squeezes my hand.
“On the second count of unlawful possession of a controlled substance—the jury finds this defendant not guilty.”
Stunned, I slowly nod as he rattles off his appreciation for everyone. Then—as usual—I wait for someone to finally walk through the side doors to hand me an Oscar.
It never comes.
“Court is adjourned.” The judge bangs his gavel, and my client doesn’t even say thank you. She rushes out of the room at the speed of light.
You’re welcome…
Sighing, I slide my notes into a briefcase and slam it shut.
As I’m turning around to leave, I find myself staring right into the glaring eyes of the state prosecutor.
“Well, hello, Julia,” I say. “Tough loss for you today. No hard feelings.”
