GET ME OUTTA HERE

http://ask.fm/KennethClarke

http://ask.fm/KennethClarke

As per the agreement, there was no media present, neither inside nor outside the court room. The prisoner arrived in an unmarked car, followed closely by PI agents trying their best to look non-conspicuous despite the presence of chains and guns.

The courtroom was equally quiet, attended only by a few law students, the actual lawyers and a small smattering of political parties supervising to make sure everything was handled without trampling on anyone's civil rights. Despite lenient sentences given by the court in the past, the supernatural advocacy groups weren't about to drop their vigilance.

The defense gave quite an impassioned and spirited dialogue about nature and evolution, and how much of a shame it would be to imprison an endangered species in such a small space when it obviously needed to be free; to which the prosecution rightfully asserted that endangered species or no, the police have a duty to protect the citizenry from marauding monsters.

A few character witnesses were called to the stand; a local Unitarian minister lauding Mr. Clarke for all of his donations; a confused secretary called Shela who wasn't sure why her 'amazing boss' was now in chains; and oddly enough, a strange blue haired lad who attested that Mr. Clarke had shown him kindness and mercy before when caught trying to rob him.

The tired looking judge and jury quietly deliberated. Finally, a verdict was reached. The judge stood. "Mr. Clarke. Clearly, this is a fairly cut and dry case. Thirteen counts of first degree murder, along with a signed confession, should have been enough to get anyone else sent to death row." The court went quiet. "However, in light of "special supernatural circumstances," and your service to the local community, I'm going to sentence you to a second-chance settle ment of six months in a correctional facility, with parole possible after three months."

The defense didn't look happy, and neither did the advocacy journalist, furiously scribbling notes in her booklet. Neither did the judge and jury, for that matter. But, Ken at least got his wish. The trial was quick and quiet, and he was led back to the police car without a parade of photographers.

Ken chuckled a bit at Otto's obvious embarrassment but didn't seem perturbed enough by it to attempt to cover up. "Oh, well, obviously I didn't have a very high opinion of you when you busted into my house. It didn't exactly get much better after you shot me."

"When you came by to apologize for it, you came with a gun, and I'll admit I didn't quite buy it. I thought you were a punk and a dangerous thug. Maybe though. Maybe some kinda amends can be made after all. Seems you've at least got some kind of heart."

Ken would stand up and retain his (awkwardly naked) human shape. Ignoring the potential embarrassment, he'd take a cig from the pack and light it, inhaling deeply with little coughs here and there. "Sore throat. Tried to hang myself with a bedsheet." Despite the coughing, he continued. "Doesn't work very well. Should have shredded it into strips first."

He leaned against the wall and choked down the cigarette. "Y'know.I was wrong about you."

"If you happen to have a light, I don't see any harm in one. I could use one. And a drink or four. And a decent meal. And a good night's sleep."

"I'm sure you do." He snorted. "But no, it shouldn't. After all, I never called the police on you and never filed any charges or insurance claims. So really, they would have nothing to go on. And, Otto... thank you."

"Good. The trial might be a matter of public record but that doesn't mean the entire world cares to look at it. If I do, somehow, manage not to die in prison, I'd like to have some little scrap of a life to pick up later." He curled his tail around himself and lay down, as if quite ready to go back to sleep. "I'll speak to my lawyers about you. If I can't get you your payment before I'm put away, they'll see to it."

"Ok... my court date is at the big courthouse on the last Wednesday of the month. Please try not to tell a lot of folks about it, I'd rather there not be a gigantic media circus, for obvious reasons. Least of all being safety." He tilted his head. "Are you ok?"

"Hmmm." Ken slid down to the floor and rolled onto his back, as if trying to scratch a hard to reach itch. "And in return, I give you...?"

"...Really? You'd do that for- wait. There's a catch, right?" The kelpie sat down and awkwardly scratched itself, his former sense of decorum rapidly deteriorating behind bars. "If it's money you want, you can have it. It won't be doing me any good for a while."

A drawn out sigh. "Yeaahhhhh... I guess you could say that. I was kind of hoping you brought the gun. I'm kind of.. on suicide watch."

"Ughhhhh. Look. I've had a... a very very long couple of nights. If you can't be straightforward, I'm going back to bed." Nevertheless, the monster pulled itself up to the bars and stuck the tip of its snout out, sniffing at the irksome guest. "I don't suppose they let you bring in a gun?"

A lazy, serpentine shape slowly shifted in the cell. One big blue eye glared at him. "Oh... well. That's unexpected." The beast got up and shook like a dog, flinging spittle everywhere. "What do you want?"

I would have been a very tiny business man.

I'm an atheist who hates being closely publicly scrutinized and also I'm currently in prison. So I might not be the best candidate, no.

Ugh, I hope I don't have to come back to this shit.

I was jabbed by a unicorn. I hate them.

Shut up.