(enter courtroom which looks remarkably like a therapy center)
The defendant is being sworn in “Do you swear to tell the truth…”
the defendant (AKA me) “are you kidding me?”
In walks the persecutor AKA Evil Theresa who thinks it’s funny to torture afflicted knitters with terrible ribbon yarn and lovely needles. She fairly oozes evil and also has the annoying ability to wear the perfect shade of red lipstick w/o it bleeding onto her teeth.
“How’s the scarf coming.?” Dead silence.
“”I’m sorry, what scarf would that be?”
Theresa has scented blood now, the victim has revolted. “The lovely ribbon yarn one with the holes designed to rob you of the few faculties you have left after your daughter spent three weeks being a chicken, a frog, and then a gorilla in succession.”
“I recall no yarn.” And it’s true. I do however, recall in that vague post traumatic stress way, possibly cursing the air blue, and then ripping a stupid and vexing bit of ribbon into shreds and then feeding the
evidence uh remains down the garbage disposal. There might have been some wine and copious amounts of chocolate involved. I’m not sure, since I’m pretty sure it was all a bad dream. Because, I certainly do not recall a ribbon yarn scarf I was supposed to be making.