Criminal Embarrassment
A play in one Act by Kenna McKinnon
Characters:
Prosecutor: Anne Tagonist
Defendant: Helen Wheels
Lawyer: Ima Wünderbar, QC
Plaintiff
1: Mrs. Froot Loops
Plaintiff
2: Mr. Froot Loops
Witness: Chicken Little
Judge
Bailiff
Court
Reporter
Journalist: William H. Macy
President
of the University
Men in
brown shirts
Chorus
French
revue
Ms.
Androgynist
Defendant
sits in courtroom with lawyer. Prosecutor is on opposite side of room with the two
Plaintiffs. Chorus sits in back rows. Bailiff enters.
Bailiff: All rise. Here come de judge.
(Judge
enters. All rise. Judge takes his seat.)
Bailiff: Order in the court.
Witness: I’ll have a bucket of KFC.
Plaintiff 1: KFC here.
Plaintiff
2: I’ll have what she has.
Plaintiff
1: I have Chlamydia.
Witness: What did she say?
Plaintiff 2: She says she wants clams.
Witness: Does KFC have clams?
Judge: No, but Joey’s Only does.
Chorus: (sings) Joey’s to the world. The
Lord has come…
Witness: Who has come? Speak up, I’m a little…
Chorus (all
together): The Lord.
Witness: Dullard? Look, I might be hard of
hearing but I’m not a dullard.
Judge: Clam up.
Bailiff: Order in the court.
Witness: I’ll have…
Prosecutor: Stop that.
Judge: What is the charge?
Court
reporter: (reads) Criminal
embarrassment of the first degree.
Prosecutor: Kill her!
Judge: Steady, Anne.
Prosecutor: Sorry, sir. I get carried away.
Bailiff: We can arrange that.
Judge: Order in the court.
Witness: Two hotdogs…
Prosecutor: Kill the witness.
Judge: How do you plead?
(Defendant
takes stand)
Defendant: Not guilty, your Honour.
Judge: How so?
(Defendant
looks to lawyer)
Lawyer: Your Honour, we intend to prove my
client was in Kelly’s pub at the time of the alleged offence.
Defendant: (burp)
Prosecutor: Do you have a drinking problem, Ms.
Wheels?
Defendant: No problem. I drink, fall down, get up,
drink again. No problem.
Prosecutor: Where were you on the night of March 17th?
Defendant: I was in Kelly’s pub.
Prosecutor: All night?
Defendant: Yes.
Prosecutor: Where were you at nine o’clock in the
evening on the night of March 17th?
Defendant: I was in Kelly’s pub.
Prosecutor: Were you not in front of the Froot Loop
residence in Snob Hills delivering cookies?
Defendant: No, your Honour.
Prosecutor: These cookies were seized as evidence by
the Court and analyzed in the forensic lab by 23 off-duty police officers
working 32 days overtime at taxpayer expense. Did the cookies not contain flour and sugar and baking soda and
chocolate sprinkles?
Defendant: I plead guilty to that, your Honour.
Judge: Guilty to making cookies?
Defendant: Yes, your Honour. I do make the
occasional cookie.
Prosecutor: Where were you on the evening of March
17th?
Defendant: In Kelly’s pub. Where were you when they
handed out…
Prosecutor: Does Kelly’s pub have a kitchen in the back?
Defendant: I don’t know.
Prosecutor: I rest my case.
Lawyer: Objection!
Judge: Yes?
Court
reporter: Slow down. “Chocolate…”
Lawyer: Objection!
Mrs. Froot
Loops: Boo hoo (takes out tissue and
wipes at eyes, which are streaming)
Mr. Froot
Loops: There, there, dear. We can
go home soon and water orchids.
Judge: Order in the court.
Bailiff: I’ll have a…
Lawyer: My client is being harassed.
Judge: Objection sustained.
Prosecutor: Hang her!
Lawyer
(ignores the Prosecutor): I’d like
to call my first witness.
(Witness
takes stand)
Lawyer: What is your name?
Witness: Mrs. Little.
Lawyer: Your first name?
Witness: Chicken.
Bailiff: Raise your right hand.
(Witness is
sworn in)
Lawyer: Where were you on or around nine
o’clock on the evening of March 17th?
Witness: At Kelly’s pub.
Lawyer: And what were you doing at Kelly’s
pub?
Witness: Warning.
Lawyer: I beg your pardon?
Witness: I beg your pardon?
Lawyer:
WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT KELLY’S PUB THE NIGHT OF MARCH 17TH?
Witness: No reason to yell. The sky was falling.
I was warning the establishment.
Lawyer: Where was the Defendant?
Witness: In the back making cookies.
Prosecutor: Ah hah! Hang her!
Lawyer: What kind of cookies were those?
Witness: What time? Around nine o’clock on the
night of…
Lawyer: What KIND of cookies?
Witness: They appeared to be chocolate chip cookies
with sprinkles.
Lawyer: And what TIME was that?
Witness: That would be approximately nine
o’clock at night.
Lawyer: How can you be so sure?
Witness: We were timing the cookies to come out
of the oven at 9:20 pm.
Lawyer: And what did you do with the cookies
when they were baked?
Witness: They were hard as little bullets.
Lawyer: I beg your pardon?
Witness: I beg your pardon?
Lawyer: What did you DO with the cookies?
Witness: We put them in boxes and delivered
them to the Youth Emergency Shelter.
Lawyer: Why did you do that?
Witness: What? (puts hand to ear)
Lawyer: WHY?
Witness: They’ll eat anything with chocolate
sprinkles on it.
Prosecutor: Objection!
Judge: Sustained.
Lawyer: Did at any time you observe Ms.
Wheels leaving the establishment?
Witness: The what?
Lawyer: The pub.
Witness: No. Helen stayed until the pub closed
at midnight then we went home together.
Judge: Ah!
Prosecutor: Objection! The witness and defendant are
obviously very dangerous perverts.
Judge: Overruled.
Prosecutor: Hang them!
Lawyer (to
witness): You may step down now.
Witness: What?
Lawyer: GET OUT OF HERE.
Witness: The sky is falling. (Leaves witness
stand)
Defendant: (laughs)
Prosecutor: What is the meaning of that laughter? Very
suspicious.
Defendant: Sorry, your Honour.
(Defendant
takes stand)
Chorus: (Sings first verse of Take Me Out to
the Ball Game)…
Judge: Stop that.
Mrs. Froot
Loops: Oh, DEAR, I can’t stand to be
in the same room as that pervert.
Mr. Froot
Loops: There, there dear. We’ll be
home soon with your kitty binky.
Mrs. Froot
Loops: Oh, I love you so, dear Mr.
Froot Loops.
Mr. Froot
Loops, glaring at the Defendant: Hang
her!
Judge: Order in the court.
Witness: I’ll have…
Prosecutor: STOP THAT!
Lawyer: I rest my case.
(Judge
recesses court for 15 minutes then returns)
Bailiff: All rise. Here come de Judge!
(All rise
and face the Judge expectantly then sit. The Defendant remains standing).
Judge: I have made my decision.
Chorus: (sings first verse of O Sweet
Mystery of Life)…
Bailiff: Stop that.
Judge: Order in the court.
Witness: I wouldn’t touch that with a 10 foot
pole.
Prosecutor: Hang him!
Judge: Order or I will declare a hung
jury.
Lawyer: Jury?
Defendant: Maybe that would have been a good idea.
Judge: I have made my decision.
(All wait
expectantly)
Judge: Not guilty due to insanity.
Lawyer: Insanity?
Prosecutor: Insanity?
Defendant: Insanity? I’m not crazy. I’m a drunk. Oh,
dear, I’m all confused. (Takes a drink of water from the stand and belches) Oh,
that’s better, sir.
Judge: The charge is insane. Therefore
not guilty due to insanity.
Defendant: (laughs)
Prosecutor: Stop that!
Judge: Not guilty of criminal
embarrassment. I find you guilty of a lesser charge.
Witness: The sky is falling!
Lawyer: What is the verdict?
Judge: Guilty of making poor quality
cookies. They were like little rocks, you say? Disgusting.
Defendant: I’m sorry, your Honour. I honestly won’t
do it again.
Judge: I sentence you to a day of
community service at the Oliver Community League learning how to make proper
cookies.
Defendant: Thank you, your Honour.
Judge: Case dismissed.
Bailiff: There go de judge. All rise.
(All rise
and judge exits the courtroom, followed by the chorus singing The Hallelujah
Chorus. There is a pile of soggy tissues beside Mrs. Froot Loops, who sobs into
another tissue. Mr. Froot Loops pats her shoulder. The Women’s Temperance
League enters the room carrying pots of orchids. All exit).
Journalist
(outside the courtroom taking pictures and speaking into a microphone): And here ends a very curious case, ladies and
gentlemen. (Clacks sticks together to simulate horses running). The underdog
appears to have been vindicated. But wait -- could it be?! It’s a large black
limousine pulling up to the front of the courthouse with men in brown shirts
wearing dark glasses; ladies and gentlemen, this is incredible! The President
of the University appears to be here! And he’s carrying off the Froot Loops in
the back of his limousine! There are brown shirts everywhere. What is the
meaning of this?
Prosecutor
(standing outside with the wind whipping her silver hair about her face,
speaking into the microphone): We intend to appeal, Mr. Macy. This crime cannot
go unpunished. Death to all perverts! Hang the infidel and her cookies!
Journalist: Do you mean to say this is not the end of
the drama, Ms. Tagonist?
Mrs. Froot
Loops (leaning out the window of the limousine): I sincerely hope that nothing
bad happens to the Defendant. Hang her!
(The
Women’s Temperance League bursts into song and throws orchids at the limousine.
Mrs. Froot Loops leans farther out the window and playfully smacks the ladies
with her cane, including Ms. Androgynous, who squeals with delight).
Chorus: (sings) And I think to myself it’s a
wonderful world…
Lawyer: We appeal the appeal!
(Limousine
drives away, covered with orchids. Several of the Women’s Temperance League
have been knocked down by the blows of the cane).
Chorus: (sings) Think think think…
Witness: Make mine an Irish soda bread with
beer.
(Defendant
and witness exit arm in arm.)
Lawyer to
Journalist: Vous plus avoir belles
croupes.
(Prosecutor
and Bailiff dance the can can with a French revue coming up the street.
Journalist clacks sticks in simulation of horses running)
Chorus
sings They’re Coming to Take me Away ah - hah…ah hah ah hah…they’re coming to
take me away…
Faintly in
the distance Defendant and Witness are heard singing Drink drink drink…
Judge comes
out in a leisure suit with a can of beer in his hand and toasts the Women’s
Temperance League.
Ms.
Androgynist: I beg your
indulgence, sir. I have been somewhat wounded. (She falls to the ground,
clasping her breasts).
Journalist: No, ladies and gentlemen, this won’t make
the five o’clock news. Wait a minute. Could it be?
(Mrs. Froot
Loops comes staggering down the street, leaning on her cane. Mr. Froot Loops
follows her, pushing on her buttocks).
Mrs. Froot
Loops: They threw me out on the
street!
Mr. Froot
Loops: Me too.
Journalist: Could it be!?
Mrs. Froot
Loops stops and does the can can with her cane and sings Puttin’ on the Ritz…
Mrs. Froot
Loops: Where’s that pervert?
Mr. Froot
Loops: I’m right here, dear.
