Apsuzette High Court

  The Trial of Fenfeld Kaiser

  Day 1

  Fenfeld is led down the center aisle of the courtroom. Several ape women cover their faces with paper fans and pretend not to stare at the smarmy ape. Fenfeld grins impossibly wide, showing almost every single one of his bright white teeth. One of the perks of being a town scavenger--all that extra stuff can buy a lot more extra stuff. Including fabulous munchers, perfect for when you're chewing bapa nuts on Planet Calista.

  Fenfeld's mind begins to wander as he remembers the last time he visited the beautiful golden planet with seven moons--and even more beautifuler women. Nothing like the ape women and other random women found in lonesome Apsuzette Township. Nothing like them at all. Fenfeld's second wife had come from Calista. If memory serves him, she lives there still. And she is still wearing his ring. He hopes.

  The ape man's eyes nearly bug out of his head as he catches sight of a familiar face. The sultry fox, whose petticoats he had attempted to lift the previous day, is seated in the front row of the audience section. However, she is no longer wearing her fashionable dress and petticoats. The foxy female now wears a bright white t-shirt emblazoned with the words: 'Free Fenfeld' in red stenciled letters. Three of her ape girlfriends are also in attendance. Each of the female animals wears a similar slogan on the front of their clothes.

  "Hey! Hey, Fenfeld! Hey!" Sassy Fox yells at the tops of her lungs. "We love you, Fenfeld."

  Fenfeld's smile grows even larger. He glances over one shoulder at the huge jailer leading him towards the counsel's bench.

  "You hear that, Small Fry?" Fenfeld whispers. "They love me. The women...Love me. Try getting half of a reaction like that from the women you run in circles with."

  "Shut up, Fenfeld! Eyes straight ahead," the jailer barks.

  "Make me!" Fenfeld challenges the lumbering gorilla. "At least...I am what I am. You're just a cowardly monkey who fell out of the tree and lost his momma. Now, you play at being tough. You ain't tough, Small Fry!"

  "Call me Small Fry...One more time," the jailer says, yanking the chain connecting Fenfeld's numerous handcuffs to his leg shackles. "And I'll show you how much of a small fry I'm not...Fenfeld."

  "I'm really shaking, Tough Guy!" Fenfeld mutters, blowing the group of handsome females a kiss. "Can't you see my knees just knocking together, Small Fry!"

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  "Alright...You asked for it," the jailer roars.

  Less than five feet from the counsel's bench, the jailer takes a swing at Fenfeld. The handcuffed apeman dodges the swing and whoops. Loud murmurs fill the courtroom. What kind of madness is this?

  For several brief moments, Fenfeld and the jailer circle each other. Fenfeld draws his mouth up into a fierce snarl before putting out his six hands--palms up. He flexes his fingertips in a 'come on' motion. The gorilla eyes him suspiciously.

  "What's the matter, Small Fry? That all you got?" Fenfeld mocks the giant gorilla.

  "No!" growls the jailer.

  The jailer expertly trips Fenfeld up using the chains tied to his body. The arrogant apeman goes sprawling, sliding face first under the counsel's bench. The four women who came to instigate Fenfeld's release gasp in horror and sadness. There goes their hero.

  Fenfeld is not an ape to stay down--even when he should. The frustrated apeman glances up, kicking out one leg at his adversary. The huge jailer sidesteps Fenfeld's wild kick. He is surprisingly agile for a creature his size. Fenfeld grunts unhappily.

  The jailer yanks on the chain yet again, trying to draw Fenfeld from under the table. By now, every mouth and eye in the courtroom is open wide. Fenfeld, enjoying the audience, continues to act foolishly.

  "No. No. No. No," Fenfeld mutters, grabbing the legs of a chair to prevent himself from easily being pulled from under the table. "No. No No No. NO. You can't do this to me. I have a wife...Wives...And kids. Lots of kids. You can't do this it me. I won't let you do this to me. Do you understand? I'm innocent, you hear me? Innocent. Now, get your damn gorilla hands off of me!"

  The gorilla jailer attempts to go under the table to haul Fenfeld out. Around the courtroom, spectators scramble to get a good view. The presiding judge, a towering bear,--wearing an old-fashioned Victorian wig--enters the courtroom. He surveys the nonsense going on with pursed lips. Crossing to the judge's bench, His Honor lifts the wooden gavel found there and pounds it twice on the sturdy podium.

  Spectators stop what they are doing mid-action, some with wads of money in their hands. The scrambling starts anew as audience members rush back to their seats. However, Fenfeld is not yet through.

  Crawling from under the opposite end of the table than the gorilla jailer crawled in, Fenfeld takes advantage of the chain's slack. He climbs onto the table and jumps up and down several times. He turns to face the crowd, completely ignoring the judge.

  "I'm innocent! This is all a farce. Justice will prevail and I..."

  Fenfeld is silenced when the gorilla jailer knocks him on the back of the head with a billy club. Holding up a solitary finger, and struggling to count the other three fingers which seem to have sprouted without warning, Fenfeld attempts to speak again. Instead, he crumbles unconscious onto the table. Snoring loudly.

  The gorilla jailer turns to the judge with a wide grin. Just then, Fenfeld's attorney enters the courtroom. The finely dressed weasel slinks up to the counsel's table, looking his client over disapprovingly.

  "Counselor Henpeck," the judge roars from the bench. "Since your client is presently... Unavailable. How does he wish to plead?"

  Mr. Henpeck tugs on his polkadot tie before answering.

  "Not guilty...Your Honor. Hehe. "