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Guilty...of Love in the First Degree!
"Friends," I'm afraid I shall have to postpone my usual pod-cast for today, as I'm off to pick up some hair pomade and a new truss for my "hot date" tonight, to use the parlance of our times. It all started this morning, when she entered the courtroom. I heard a choir of angels and felt a fluttering in my chest--which usually prompts me to call 911--but I checked my hearing aid battery and pacemaker, which seemed to be functioning normally. It was then that I realized these biological anomalies signaled a subpoena…to the Court of Romance!
As she took the stand, she glowed with a radiance I have not seen since Carol Lombard's finest hour. Class and dignity positively oozed out of her like the tube of ointment I'd rubbed on my reconstructed hip this morning. Before she even said a word, I could tell this was a woman who knew the difference between a runcible spoon and a sardine fork. As she spoke, I was transfixed, my eyes languorously drifting from her passionately pursed lips to the lovely, jiggling wattle beneath her pearl necklace, all the way down to the constellations of liver spots on her dainty wrists…could that be the Big Dipper, poised to dunk itself right into my heart? Even the mink stole lovingly draped around her neck seemed to beckon me with its "come hither" eyes.
After Madame Cadieux was unceremoniously removed from the courtroom by a judge who cannot appreciate class when he sees it, I seized on my chance to woo her during recess. I introduced myself and, risking severe facial cramping, pressed my lips together to kiss her lovely hand. I sympathized with her betrayal of trust at the hands of her slanderous ex-friend Cat, and asked if I could comfort her over an early-bird steak dinner. She replied that she would be busy washing her hair that night--quite the reasonable evening's agenda for a woman as comely as herself, I thought. Then it hit me: Ah, Von Houten you fool, 'tis the exquisitely choreographed, give-and-take dance of love! She was playing hard-to-get, and so I volleyed right back with a request for tomorrow night instead. Once I heard the "Uhh," cascade from her beautiful lips, I knew she was mine. "Your place. 4:30 tomorrow evening," I proclaimed. She then exclaimed, "Oh my goodness, what's that behind you?" I turned and saw nothing, then turned around to find her gone, like the delicious mystery she is, presumably to get a head start on her preparations for tomorrow night's festivities. I headed back to the courtroom, my head abuzz with anticipation.
After Madame Cadieux's testimony, I must admit I had a hard time paying attention once Cat took the stand. Although hordes of salivating newshounds sat in rapt attention, I saw nothing more than another fly-by-night, faceless wannabe. Madame Cadieux is much better off without Cat and her nefarious Circle. As will be the rest of the world, once my attorney makes a couple more slam-dunks--if you will excuse the vulgar sports metaphor--on the witness stand as he did today. And with any luck, Madame Cadieux will be sitting on top of this My Circle-free world with me, side by side. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have my spats laundered and pressed...