Egged on At Court, But The Judge Still hates Me(Podcast Transcript/Short Story)

Welcome to the baby wants its bottle poetry podcast. A creative project by Martin Anton Smith. In this episode a quirky Short Story, it’s called: Egged on, at Bankruptcy Court. And without further delay let’s begin

The non-gentle qualms of bankruptcy court
Liquidated my IQ within 3 seconds
However, I did think it odd
That while the judge granted me clemency, against my debtors
He suggested that I could instead help around their houses.
After wondering if I’d somehow quantum shuffled into 1859,
I was able to murmur some low confidence rebuttals:
“But your honour, I’m in no mental state, to wash dirty dishes.
I’m not Compos Mentus enough, to clear compost,
And I’m certainly far too vacuous, to vacuum fluff”
To that the Judge reprimanded me he said
“Well sonny, be happy am not charging you further,
that business of yours was a joke.
I mean, you were selling second hand egg yolk!
That business of yours was a disaster, an abhorrent liability,
A flummox of flappers and half-witted mis-shapery!
Isn’t It fair I repair your skulduggery, for those poor victims,
Whose only crime was bad education, sloping foreheads, and a trusting constitution. They all Lost their livelihoods! All for your rotten egg yolk buffoonery! Be glad sonny, that I am a kind judge, and you will be washing dishes on the outside,
Then cleaning toilets on the inside! In fact, my skulduggery loving fool, you can practice now by dusting my gable!
Feeling rather embarrassed and turning a purple hue, I could offer only one more long-winded sentence, plus a few extra thoughts.
You are right your honour, I certainly admit that I’m a flop, a freewheeling farp, an economic floozy!
But I also contend this, A maniacal mania led me to become a metastasized moribund man-boy! Yes, it was indeed I, who suffered great delusions of grandeur, or riches and fame! But alas, I can explain.
That half rotten sulphurous second-hand eggs, did chemically turn my mind aflame! You see kind sir, just as mercury made the hatter mad, so it was sulphur that sullied me, the fine upstanding gent, the gentle fair and industrious, egg yolk salesman standing before you.
And as such, I plead, your honour, for temporary insanity.
This and so, I trust that you, oh gracious and grand lordly one, of this bankruptcy court, do gift me full clemency, and spare the horrid punishment of cleaning old fluff
From those debtors’ houses floors and kitchens, and of this court.
For I was insane, delirious, stupefied and under duress,
Of an evil gaseous spirit that occupies column 16 Of the periodic table.
To that, my most spirited request, the judge replied:
My dear silly sausage of a fool’s fool, there is no insanity, no despair,
there is no burden over-bared!
Your temporary insanity and infirmary,
will be squashed immediately by the breathing in, of the fine South Island Genus of New Zealand Air.
You can find this fantastical invigorating oxygen, in row 16 of the periodic table as well. In fact, it hovers directly above that rotten egg smelling Sulfur you are so well accustomed to.”
To that I could only could only utter a depleted extended moan, I signed of with a sigh, and I dribbled slowly away from the dock.
I prayed for some iron will, to see me through this injustice.
It was answered by above, and I found some simple solace.
For while All in all, I was totally withdrawn, both literally and figuratively,
At least I was regaled to know, that I had gained some gallantly gilded gasps from the gallery, all aghast at my gullibility.
This ends my sad soliloquy of a story, of bawdy bankruptcy, at the much maligned and now dust free, bankruptcy court.

P.s aren’t you glad that in this story I didn’t mention that I left with “egg on my face?” . I would never be so amateurish to contemplate such perfidy. Superstars like myself would never be so predictable. Now excuse me, I must dash, my hard-boiled eggs are almost ready.

End Scene

Thank you for listening to the baby wants its bottle poetry podcast, a creative project form Martin Anton Smith a New Zealand based creative. Podcast available on Spotify and Anchor and many other platforms.

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