Evil Editor's Blog, page 363

Writing Exercise Results . . .

. . . are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which Evil Editor is hiring an attorney.

Lawyer 8

Evil's lips puckered into a sadistic smile. "Repeat after me: I, Keanu Subpoena, of Subpoena, Heinous & Wiener, do hereby solemly pledge to serve Evil Editor as in-house legal advisor, in whatever capacity said genius prunester chooses, according to the stipulations detailed in Contract A, and with no right of veto, disagreement, or escape."

The trussed lawyer grunted from behind the strip of duct tape sealing his mouth tight shut.

"Then we are agreed." Evil pulled on a lever under his desk and...

Lawyer 7

The man strode into my office dressed to the nines: Austin Hewitt glasses, Sergio Frank herringbone suit tailored to perfection, crisp white dress shirt and blue Hermes neck tie. Five G's at least…plus Bruno Malis…make that seven. With a flick of his wrist, a business card appeared in his long fingers. Another flick and the card spun gracefully through the air towards my desk, settling upright before me as though he had placed it there by hand. In embossed gold letters it read, 'Jesper Tillow...

Lawyer 6

Harcourt Z. Penrose, Esq., at your service. I understand you wish to retain an attorney?

Yes. Err...What's the Z stand for?

Charles.

Charles?

The Z is silent. So, what type of legal services do you foresee yourself needing? I'm well-versed in copyright law, contracts, plagiarism, etc.

Nah, none of that shit. For starters, there's the death threats.

Death threats? Sir, if your life's being threatened, that's a police matter.

No, idiot. I wanna make some death threats. To my imbecile authors. I need ...

Lawyer 5

Hesitant, irksome knocking and Mr Archibald enters, wearing trousers like Capri pants, pale, piggy eyes hidden behind thick milk-bottle bottomed glasses.

Holding out a clammy, feeble hand, he laughs self-consciously, a thin slick of spittle spurting from the corner of his mouth. "Sorry I'm late- got caught in court".

Briefly shaking his hand, Mr Eveeledtor indicated Mr Archibald should sit. "Was it an interesting case?"

"Rush Job. Returning an illegal to Mexico. My maid. She fucked up my dry-cle...

Lawyer 4

Upon entering, Mr. Harry Miles's Polyester pant pocket caught on EE's door handle and ripped a fist-size hole in his pants. In a 180° turn, the 6'6" attorney then accidently tripped over his clown shoes and careened his briefcase.

Seeing the leather case spin wildly towards his head, EE zapped the case, causing it and its contents to burst, leaving shards of paper scattered around his desk.

Forgoing all introductions, Mr. Miles instantly began retrieving his papers and said, "Sorry, Mr. Editor....

Lawyer 3

"Well, hello," said the lawyer. "I guess we'd better get to know each other. I'm J. Pennington Fosdyce III."

He smiled, showing brilliant white teeth. EE said nothing, but sat behind his desk, glowering.

"And I guess you'll want to know about my background," Fosdyce continued, unperturbed. "I've spent the last ten years working on intellectual property and copyright -"

"Hold on," said EE. "Copyright?"

"Well, yes. I'm highly skilled when it comes to negotiating licenses and subsidiary rights -"

"Su...

Lawyer 2

"Mr… Kerflumble?"

The man in the rumpled blue suit loosened his tie and cleared his throat. "That would be me."

EE peered down at the papers in front of him. "And how would you rate your performance so far?"

"I plead the 5th, sir."

EE looked more closely at the papers. "I don't see why. You passed the cage match with flying colors…." He pressed the intercom button. "Mrs. Varmighan, what's this asterisk by the Triathlon report?"

Mrs. V's voice buzzed through the speaker. "Oh, that? I meant to check...

Lawyer 1

The afternoon began when a man in a blue suit and oxblood shoes rapped his knuckles on the frame of the door to EE's office. "Shamus Prendergast O'Toole of Squiremore, Smithee, Clausen and Rancid attorneys at law at your service."

"Rancid?" EE asked. He sat at the far end of the office and brushed apple brown betty crumbs from the ornate desk to the floor. Piles of paper covered the chairs, bookcases, credenza and floor.

"My Mother's maiden name. Her father founded the firm. As the story goes t...

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