September 2, 2028

Judge Umbasa Stapleton is in his garden tending his small patch of cannabis Savita.

“Who is it?” he asks as he hears Hilton Armstrong come quickly through the hedge.

Hilton stops and looks with amusement at Stapleton, who grabs his garden claw and comes at Hilton. A quick Washukie block and ten million volts from a stun gun to Stapleton’s solar plexus, finds the judge out cold on the ground.

When Stapleton awakens, he is standing on a chair, gagged, hands tied behind him, with a heavy rope noose around his neck secured to a sturdy tree limb above.

Hilton smirks,

“Well, what have you got to say for yourself?”

Stapleton says “Mmm, Mmm!”

“What’s that you say? Speak up, damn you!”

guffaws Hilton. “Well if you won’t at least be civil, I will simply have to pronounce sentence immediately.

Stapleton’s eyes are bulging with rage.

“In the name of simple human decency, and all the Legions of the North, I find you guilty of ongoing crimes against natural order, and herby sentence you to hang by your neck until you are dead… Yes, I know, mmm. mmm.”