Fletcher Quill Chapter 104

"L’homme est bien insense’, II saurait forger un
Ciron, et forge des Dieu a’ douzaines."

"Man is quite insane. He wouldn’t know how to
Create a maggot, and he creates Gods by the dozen".
Montaigne 1533- 1592

Newly minted Junior Justassssssssss Quill is in Seventh Heaven ensconced in his freshly completed private Socialist States Of America Supreme Court Chambers... His best friend Abyssinian Cat Timba hovering near the solid gold San Francisco Haight Street Bong blazing with a huge bowl full of green and black amber Moroccan Hashish (feline contact high!).

Quill’s other best friend Keith Richards whose new autobiography has hit number one on the New York Times Book list, flails away on his special built 5 string guitar as he and General Quill scream at the top of their ancient lungs Neil Young’s," Keep On Rocking In The Free World ". Quill’s 100 inch Plasma big screen is blaring the destruction of Egyptian Pharaoh rule, its all over now Dude!!!!!!!

"Hey Glimmer Twin, the fucking sounds of your pathetic poverty struck Europe disintegrating as the prehistoric Middle East Barbarian Slaves (MEBS) get a faint whiff of Ms. Freedom in our life times Dude! Fucking Kadafi is going to eat Libyans for mother fucking lunch Bitch!"

"Man, Ireland, Greece, U.K., all going down fast Pally! Course this means revafuckinglution in the air Frisco Junk Yard Dog. Hey this weed laced with Hashish is killer shit, did the Dali Lama drop this Bomb off ? You know the Black Massiah ain’t going to do shit foooool!!!!"

"Oh Yeah, Dali gets the best Bud! Lets call up those cute Bangle Bitches and do some magic shrooooms General Duke Parker left behind." (BANGLES HUGE HIT, "WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN!!!".

"Excuse me Sir, A Ms. Sugar Tits and her crew are here too install your authentic Stripper Pole?"

"Please show Ms. Tits in Drake, have staff bring lunch for eight and three cases of my private French Champaign. Better see if any of the lady Justices are in the house and invite them to the Pole Christening hey Keith?"

Atmosphere drastically altered as the very tall and awfully well constructed Sugar Tits slides in like a cool breeze. Dark Hair, Tall, perfect ass, legs that end in Mar’s and Tits so perfect in shape and size!

Hence the nickname. Quill and Richards are suitably elegantly wasted to fully appreciate her hotnesssssssss both sniffing the air as her scent envelopes the room.

STRIPPER POLE INSTALL BABY!!

Glimmer twin Guitar God Keith Richards and Justice Quill have been carefully watching Sugar Tits bend and stretch her perfect pink Pussy helping her crew install Quill’s shiny new 24 Karat Gold Plated Stripper Pole...

The Sugar Tits crew has been just a tad handicapped as the dark wood antique laden inner chambers are completely enveloped in Moroccan Hashish smoke courtesy of Quill’s oldest Man God Pal The 14th Dali Lama.

"Excuse me Ms. Tits, would you recommend any particular flooring or carpeting (Sugar Tits own carpet DOES match the drapes Baby!!!!) I don’t want these old Bitches scrapping those spindly knee’s hey Keef?"

"Right Mate, maybe Sugar Tits can hang and give us a Demo on this gold licking stick Quill? Honey your sooooo tall, man it must take an hour to pull on those sexy black tights sha- dooby!"

"In my tiny little Chex country we sell many of these Come Fuck Me Poles (CFMP ) as we call them. You silly American’s soooooo up tight about a little Pink Pussy! Which one of you ancient Satyrs would like a special one on Pole dance right now?

Better, I have invited one of my girl friends who will arrive wearing the traditional Chex Red Flag and nothing else. Her Tits are huge, her morals none existent like a once Socialist Bitch ought to be hey Mr. Iconish 8 inch Cobra."

"Please you little cooky from Big Tit Wet Pussy Nirvana (BTWPN) demonstrate your mother fucking Pole Bioccccccccch!!!"

Out of nowhere comes blasting "Wild Thang" Sugar Tits drops her last tiny piece of hot pink sweater meat cover up and its Nasty TIME.

She begins nice and slow leaves her cute smoking hot black tights half way down so only her perfect ass and sweet swollen pink wet Pussy are clearly defined and visible up close.

Quill and Keef are playing with the music huge hard on’s sticking straight out as Sugar Tits flies off the Gold Pole into Quill’s arms and begins a lap dance tit sucking session our new Junior Justice will never forget.

He insists Keef take lots of cell phone and Face Book photos and send them to the other Justices pronto!!!

"Are you about ready to explode your ancient man sauce (AMS) all over my Pretty Pink Swollen Pussy (PPSP) Mr. Justice?

I heard how much you love eating Sweet Wet Pink Pussy (SWPP) Cowboy? Sooo whats stopping you, clean up time old man..."

"Excuse me Sir, Ten minutes till Closed Court begins, may I help Ms.Tits pull up those awfully tight Black tights?"

"Quill, Your Man Servant has his own Fetish Hey! Excellent reminds me of my Days and Nights with that female phenom Anita Pollenberg. Still get chills thinking back to her gobbling me own Johnson as we sped through the night in my fabled Blue Bentley Lena Baby.

That girl could and has raised the Dead... Your Caddies back seat could be a great Reality Series old Man. Do you get that Pussy juice cleaned up every once in awhile?

666

"Alrighty then! Nicely done gentlemen! She is about as nasty as any mortal cocksmen could imagine. Those skin tight black tights pulled half way down got my Dead Blood cooking with gas Son.

More important news flash Quill, it appears your main Russian ass bite V. Putang Disputin his self sent his spies to poison you and Timba with highly toxic Nuclear Waste Water French Cream Fresh. (NWWFCF) Your man Drake’s nose foiled this attempt Mr. Justassssssssssss.

I will keep my spirits all over his ass until you find a way to take him out Marine. Time to put your ancient over used 8 inch Python back in his cage and take care of your main bidness, understand.

Destiny and her girls Fate, Chance, Chaos are on your Door Step as usual. By now you are programed for constant vigilant paranoia mean destroya Cowboy...

Your number one Boy Detective ( Hard Ball ) Gary Hunter has his work watching after you Junk Yard Dog ass old man. One more thang before you and Timba hit the Closed Court today. Your Moroccan Hash Dealer is in Egypt selling his best shit to the Face Book, Social Network Robot rioters.

So cool nerds around the world Twittering their way into the Freedom Myth, They are so fucking blinded, drank the cool aid. They Text Message all day like Monkeys scratching for bugs on each other’s red ass. So fucking lost and pathetic this generation of Web Robots.

Apple Bots, Social Network Bots herd instinct gone sour! Original thought is fucking historical oddity General as a mass Herd Instinct Virus via the world wide mother fucking web sweeps the Planet"

"Drake my sweet old friend I just heard about the attempted poisoning of me and Timba and maybe you Mr. Hero. First, you take a week go to my Penthouse in Cabo San Lucas, chase Marlin and play with Sammy Hagar.

Next I want you to find the largest dead rat in this city this morning and put a package together for our new fool Putin. He is at his Dacha in the mountains right now. Put the dead rat in a rat trap and send three of my largest Sea Eagle feathers.

He will easily put it together, my unsuccessful attempt at his mortality while he rode his best Stallion. Send one of my signed Black Robe mug shots and also send a copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s "Conquer Worm".

"Shall I drop a copy of your treatise on Master Chess playing as well Sir?"

"No wonder we have thirty years weaving this tapestry my friend. Now I’m off to Closed Court."

"Excuse me Sir, one quick last thing. The Black Messiah wants another fly fishing trip pronto was his exact wordage Sir!"

"By the time this session ends Drake, have everything accumulated on my fellow Justices back ground along with all the latest on that fucking Indian Activist Peltier, gonna free that fucking Injun no question.

Dali Lama and General Duke Parker are due in before I take off for next fly trip this weekend. Has my long time no see Sharon Stone left any messages, how about the Frisco Bitches what’s her name and that other Ball Buster Bullshit artist? Busy afternoon. Did you roll a mess of Fat Boy Joints for me and the Lad’s after Court?"

"Thank the God’s Timba never got that Cream Fresh Nuclear treat this morning... Shall I summon the magic cauldron and your spirit friends as well Sir?"

"Drake, make sure Sugar Tits gets my personal cell number, got a funny feeling this girl may have the stuff needed to hang and play hard full time my old friend, can’t get those Black Tights half way down out my skull. Send Justice Tommy Gun Thomas a dinner invite for this evening. Time for Closed Court."

CLOSED COURT BABY!!!!!

The Justices private Conference Room is off limits to all mortal spirits.... it has always been the tradition to have the most junior justice who is seated nearest the swinging doors to answer the door, it has always been that way! No justice speaks twice until everyone has spoken once.

Again as before going to open court the justices shake hands. Justice speak in order of seniority. A first tentative vote is taken then justices are assigned to write opinions by the most senior justice. Three ornate chandeliers adorn the ceiling, American oak paneled walls lined with book shelves.

Junior Justice Fletcher Quill has been carefully briefed on these traditions and forewarned NOT to fuck around cowboy!!!! Before Fletcher Quill Junior Justice enters this hallowed secret chamber one of the long time highly respected Company Men William Suter Clerk of the Supreme Court, Vietnam Veteran, U.S. Army Major General pulls the new Junior Justice aside and whispers serious advice!

"Quill my old Vietnam Buddy, you have no choice but to humbly, graciously adapt quickly and with nobility this morning. When I come back with papers or coffee & donuts and knock on that fucking door Marine!

Get on your mother fucking size 12 sneakers and answer and open and do what junior justices are expected to do! If you decide otherwise and draw the line on this Bullshit tradition cause you’re a fucking hard headed Irish Junk Yard Dog, might want to reconsider?

General "Mad Dog" Midas is in the house with all your old Jar head Pal’s, they know like I know how hard this is for you Sports fan. So its up to you, what you gonna do?"

After shaking hands the justices take their places with Quill coming up the rear and closing the door behind him, so far so good as the woman are noticeably anxious, the new Hispanic biting her nails while fat Boy Anthony looks like an over fed British Hotel Cat licking its chops before swallowing whole a crippled rat...

"Good Morning, we have solemn work to discuss indeed! In those long bygone days when the 14th & 15th Amendments were desecrated dislocating civil rights. Ahh, that knock on the door trumpets the arrival my daily hot tea and scone. After which we begin!"

All eyes laser beam into Junior Justice Quills grey head as once again louder this time the great swinging chamber door’s ring with the Head Clerks clinched fist.. The three hen’s are biting well manicured nails, Chief Justice Fat Boy has a smile soooo wide the door could barely open if answered...

Fletcher slowly gets up and solemnly walks to the door and in flies six local strippers with Sugar Tits in the lead carrying piping hot pizza and ice cold Brewskies for all. Fat Tony’s face is bloated beet red as his neck veins pulsate and his blood pressure goes berzerrrk!!!

"Sooo Tony Baby, in the last years over 9000 Petitions filed, only fucking 90 argued?"

(Over 8,500 people attempt to be heard each year! Maybe 85 are considered?)