Fletcher Quill Chapter 123

"The seed of mystery lies in muddy water. How can we fathom this muddiness? Water Becomes clear through stillness Bitches!"
Timmy Leary, Immortal

Supreme Court Justice Fletcher Quill, Drake his long trusted man servant are sitting in the back seat of Quill’s shiny new custom four seat Lamborgine listening to early John Lee Hooker kill the classic "Spoonfu".

The famous corner of Maryland and First Street home of the impressive Court facade with its tall column’s large statues on either side bustling with humans dashing everywhere dressed very nicely!

Suddenly one of the few court members that actually speaks to the old Marine General, her highness, sweetness, little miss civility her dam self Ruth Bader Ginsburg knocks on the one way window and slips in minutes before Quill and Drake make their much anticipated rare appearance, its on!!!!

"Oh boy!! Long friggin time no see Stoner Generalismo Mayhem! This Lambo already smells like downtown Haight Street after the Summer Fair. Ok, several things for you and Drake, Hello Drake, to know before you step into the lions den.

Many of the current cases, oh my lord you have a huge hard on oldman? Let me ease that with a bit of a hand job while we chat, you don’t mind do you Drake?

You are out of almost all the hot cases, anything to do with the Gay’s or anything poor Anthony authored like the fucking Bill that gave big bizzz the keys to all future elections, you are out of because of your public statements.

Now second and oh my its getting bigger Quilly? This rumor about you quitting the court and rebecoming Lead Singer/Harp Master and hanging out in Monte Carlo rehearsing for a world tour has got to be Bullshit Cowboy?

You ain’t going nowhere Marine. This is a life deal and you get the fuck over this male shit with Scalia and man up Marine General or I won’t give the 8 inch Cobra here a happy pre court ending, kabish oldman?"

"Oh my Lord!!! Thanks a Katrillion Ruthy baby, you are still the Hand Job Princess in (HJP) this fucking court sister, oh my, my, my...

Now, heard your thoughts loud and clear and will decide soon how much freedom I need. My Band Stiff Nipples still featuring both Louis Pussy A.K.A. Loose Pussy and Clay Toris will begin serious rehearsals in Monte Carlo at my new big ass luxury leased Villa in two weeks. I will be there and it is going to happen. Have ten new songs and..."

"Shut the fuck up oldman! Listen honey we, the nation needs your cantankerous nasty overeducated ass in this building speaking up for real America, at least your knuckle dragging, cave dwelling understanding of it! You and Tony are the real Constitutional Scholars, you boys rock this ship Quilly!

You ain’t no quitter are you Marine? That 17 year Frisco bad ass (17YOB) that rocked Vietnam in the 1960s didn’t give the fuck up did he? The old Marine Generalismo ain’t going to quit this gig either!

You and Drake get on your back heels and come on in and dig in Justice Quill, better wipe this fresh Lewinski off those tailored charcoal grey trousers..."

"Drake, lets go get into this thing my good man, keep up on the vote count as we roll today. All the absent voters are being counted now as the general election returns start coming in drop me notes or hold up fingers on how the Black Messiah is fairing in this shoot out.

I will see you outside the Cloak Room after I Robe Up. When court begins we use hand signals for all the important stuff."

"You have three calls this morning, Sugar Tit’s sounds pissed, Sharon Stone wants to face to face and your Buddy Glimmer Twin Keith Richards is first, he is on the line now."

"Hey Buddy, on my way into court right now, the new Lambo is too fast, sweet, sweet Ruthy took care of bizzz, mandatory bizzz, so what’s up with Band?"

"We been rehearsing and playing all nite for last two weeks, almost ready for the public, not quite! Charlie is fine, so is Mick. Me and Woody need more time. Looks like three or four hugified big ass stadium gigs, then a hand ful of small clubs and that will do this 50th Anniversary Bullshit my friend.

After which me and woody will meet you and boys in Monte Carlo kicking off your rebirth my friend. Have a few nasty songs to throw down my Boy"

"Sounds like your ready to roll. I’m almost in the big Door’s, call you when this shit ends later."

"Good morning Justice Thomas how are you Dude?"

"Excuse me Quill late and upset this morning! Why aren’t you voting in any of these Gay case’s Mr. San Francisco?"

"So Tommy any good Pussy lately stud?"

"Your not voting in more then half the cases this term Quill! It appears your mouth and general demeanor or contrary to this brand of public service hey Hippy Stoner to the Boner?"

"Man, you nailed it Mr. Show my Junk to all the Bitches.... Listen lets grab a closet and hit this smakin good big fatty I had Drake roll just for you and me Street Soldier."

"Come into my Chamber old man, I have a cigar humidor room perfect for spliff work Hippy. " "I heard tale of little cutie pie Sandy O’Connor and old Dawg Thurgood Marshall smoking and jokin back in the day!"

"Oh yeah, all the girls are Pot Heads. Only fat Tony is a Pot Virgin, he can smell it in Court watch he’ll turn beat red when he gets a whiff of you and me this morning, watch him, very funny.."

"Man, I got enough notes and Bullshit piled in my chamber to keep poor Drake hopping!

"I want to readdress the Gore Vs Bush horseshit for what it really was, a bought paid for deal another fat Tony special it appears, can’t prove it yet, have strong evidence to go over."

Before the huge Court Door’s are shut to all, Drake comes up quickly and whispers in Quill’s good ear, " Your Chamber’s have turned into an insane Party by your little people friends and it seems a Mr. 666 is in on the revelry, buffoonery,."

"Drake, get back there quick and try and keep them quiet till I get a break in bout two hour’s, Man don’t let anyone in and keep all my booze and drugs down low as well. Drake the nation is counting on you Cowboy, do not let her down!!"

"Oh yeah, Sugar Tit’s is screaming into this phone, the Dali Lama is due here in ten minutes, maybe he can lend a hand, smoke some Hashish, chill these bad vibes out.‘

"Dali will make magic, Drake get to my Chamber’s Dude!"

"Mr. Chairmen I move the court meet in private to discuss my new strategy to hear at least 200 cases a year instead of the pitiful 75 or less that renders this Court a mute point!"

"Denied Justice Quill, nice to actually have you join us for a change! First case is the matter of Gay Marriage, Justice Quill you are excused Sir, based on your life long insensitivity and blatant homophobic public statements, adieu San Francisco, adios.."

"For the record Mr. Chair my life long San Francisco drug dealer Terry. K. Was Gay as was my Porsche mechanic and my hair dresser Cowboy! Oh, all you girls welcome to drop by for Apres Court Munch Session (ACMS), Ta, ta, ya’ll.."

As Quill and Drake stroll out doing n almost perfect soft shoe to Drake’s whistling the old American Standard, Singing In The Rain all the girls were moved, his lowness is back. Suddenly two Federal Security Guards appear and whisper in Justice Quill’s bad ear visitors are requesting an emergency face to face!

None other then two of America’s most famous character’s, both Masters of the language Jessy ( my bags are always packed and waiting for chaos Baby) Jackson and his current running Mate Arnold (I banged the Maid Mildred Soo, What Girly man) come to see the Judge!

"Hear ye, Hear ye... Man, Jessy Jackson and the Fucking Terminator! Boys, why the unannounced Honor? You know I got bidness here today my famous friends?"

"You got Bidness here today! Man, that’s why me and my Boy The Sperminator pulled every string to get to you before the vote goes down on the Gay’s rights thing."

"What the fuck could either of you give a shit bout that case?"

"Are you fucking stupid Quill? Everything in Hollywood, San Francisco, Hospital Admin, Movies, you name it, Fruit Cakes now rule big chunk of this world Pilgrim! They have magically confused, legitimized, mass hypnotized their way into movies, TV, every fucking thing."

"Your vote may decide that’s why we came".

"Wasted those frequent flier miles Jessie, what you going to do when Al Sharpton calls and you have to jet to Detroit cause some one used the N word or a riot breaks out? I have been excused by fat Tony from all Gay cases.

So lets have lunch get wasted and tell stories Boys. Arnold you actually banged that poor homely Domestic and had a Son! That is huge man, impressive lack of any moral fiber their Sperminator."

"Sperminator, nice one old man child molester. Love how you live your surreal drug riddled existence Quill, this fucking Gold Bong is the shit, reload it again with the Hash laced Trainwreck and such things!

Soo Mr. Blond Molester has Sharon Stone done any Chair Sitting Spreading Nastioness(CSSN) for your ancient ass lately?"

"She sends her love and wonders if you ever got the call from her Doctor about the Herpes you gave her?"

"Quill, before we jet you ever wonder why I’m never in the news for personal life shit? Nobody gets close enough or has the Balls to give me up, I’m a fucking God to many of my people.."

"Yeah, I know Jessy and Al Sharpton any time a race issue comes up, bam your there making speeches kinda like Black Mother Theresa’s or Chocolate Gandhi’s or???"

"Or go fuck yourself Frisco Hippy, we know all bout your appetite for young Blond Pussy old man. Your Band, Stiff Nipples , those nasty ass songs you write and perform and you’re a General, sitting Justice who talks to dead Blues players and consorts with Demons like 666!"

"You got it Cowboy, that is bout it other then extreme drug taking and hanging with Presidents and most important of all aside from fly fishing and my Cat Timba. Eating, consuming, hunting, as much sweet young Blond Pussy as humanly possible.

Good day gentlemen and help yourself to a few of my Fat Rolled Frisco Joints (FR FJ) for the long jet home."

"Thankx Mr. Hippy Justice, man you just gave me a great idea for a Dave Chappel skit! Look he comes out looking like me a fucking Jess look and rhyme master, his bags packed at the front Door.

It’s three Am and he gets a call from big Al ( I ain’t no thief Bitch! ) Sharpton. He say’s, grab yo bags blood, we got a good one. Black Massiah has hold of the address of a Black Voter Doctor in Ohio disqualafied because he failed to report a change of address due to his 16 year old daughter getting pregnant by an Intern at Bane Capital.

Ain’t this a Mother fucker! Election Day and we are going to be all the fuck over the news Bro! That Bitch on 60 minutes we gonna eat that white pussy, Bill O’Reilly eat my Barbecue fool, Letterman, Leno kiss our Black ass’s into the wee- wee hour’s. See you at the airport twenty minutes!"

"Chappel will kill with that bit it’s sold fucking Gold, dam why didn’t I write that kinda shit Drake, have I lost the fucking Surreal Ball over here Ball players???"

"Quill, this is killer weed man, Jessi hit this Bitch again. So is that cute little Blond with the huge can’s in your outer office into Black Cock’s, famous one’s Quill?"

"She has Herpes and serious Yeast issues. I’ll have the Dali Lama send you his latest Hashish batch straight from his Nepal Monastery, his Monk Hashish makers are now world class, gotta jam boys, Arnold you look like shit with those dark circles and flabby ass, stop by the House Of Pancakes on the way to airport, they have many #3,4 desperate woman working their remind you of banging Mildred while she vacuumed. Jessie keep up the Radio diatribe Street Soldier, gotta be another National Black issue besides Koby butt fucking peasants in his spare time."

(Here come the Judge and their goes law - America home of the free if you got the money)