Category: Skwibby fiction

The Bailiff announced: “all rise for the Reverend Judge Solomon Dungry.”

Dr. Tundra watched as the Reverend Judge entered the Court. The inquisitor was a tall, cadaverous man, with piercing blue eyes and lips that were so thin, you could only see them when he scowled, which he did most of the time. He took his seat, a low bench next to a tall cross on his dais, and said: “everyone but the accused may sit.”

“That’s you,” Dr. Tundra’s Writ-appointed lawyer told him — a well-meaning man, but weak, and clearly a cog in this fundamentalist system.

“You are accused of three counts of heresy, Dr. Tundra,” the Bailiff read from a clipboard. “One — you have purposefully taught the heretical notion of evolution. Two — you have posited another Supreme Being than Our Christian Lord, God. Three, you have called this False God the Flying Spaghetti Monster.”

“How do you plead?”

“Not guilty of course,” Dr. Tundra said. “But may I ask, am I not entitled to a trial by jury?”

The judge stood up, as did the rest of the Court. “No, heretic, you are not.”

“But doesn’t the Constitution grant me –”

“No, it does not. Before I pass sentence,” the Reverend Judge said, “may I ask what possessed you to do these things? Surely you knew of our Holy Writ before you came to America to teach?”

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