“Peter the Vegan, you stand here today before us in this The Grand and Holy Court of Truth, Justice, and Right accused of the most severe offenses. Blatant disregard of established convention; exhibiting contempt of our most treasured ancestral cultural cult-heritage; the disavowing of our sacred religions and the denial of their God; while refusing to participate in our time-honored traditions, annual celebrations, sacrifices, and our consecrated Holy Days. In addition, you have steadfastly refused to take part in our democratic election process, the very process of which ensures your very freedoms and protections of this court. Further, it stands that you have publically denounced our wars waged in the holy name of peace while hypocritically fighting for the rights of animals. How absurd.”
Peter the Vegan stood tall, proud, and though he possessed with fear, for he knew well the score, not a tremble did he let before the towering Honorable Honor’s bench. A gargantuan structure crafted from the several trees of African Blackwood, generously inlaid in ivory and adorned with the finest of African gems mined by the blackest of black African slaves. It was imposing and intimidating, built in a semi-circle, as wide as the vast courtroom itself. At its height, far above, was seen the Honorable Honor’s shining bald head, furrowed brow, and a pair of beady spectacled eyes peering over its smoothly curved edge. In its center, sculptured from the skulls of malcontent, the Ministry’s emblem of Truth, Justice and Right, a trinity of white angelic virgin aside a guillotine shielded by the snow-white arms of God the Father, on the left the sun rising over Golgotha, on the right the severed head of nonconformity.
“These exemplarily and complying citizens,” said the Honorable Honor, “peers whom you know and see seated in the gallery above and around you, Peter the Vegan, they are your co-workers, your wife, your children, your grandchildren, your friend, and other beloved members of your family and community. They’ve gathered to bear witness against your actions and intentions of free thought and individualism, and what is described to me as ‘your incessant annoying activism.’ Theirs is an unwavering concern for you, Peter the Vegan. Their seeming betrayal is nothing less than an act of unmitigated love that you should find yourself grateful for and warmed by in this dire time of yours. They, as all obedient citizens of our World Order, in this blessed region of Amerika, in the righteous State of Togetherness within the hallowed township of Ultimate Oneness seek only your right-thinking. Thereby we declare you guilty of gross and deliberate individualist thought and action, thus deeming you a terrorist threat to the way of our esteemed and cherished life of unity, love, and liberty.
“As to these vilest and severe charges, Peter the Vegan, how dost thou plead?”
“You must enter a plea,” said the Honorable Honor in agitated tone and condescending manner.
“Peter the Vegan, might I heap contempt to these charges facing you this day?”
“You may do as you like, sir, for your minds are set and your judgments long made, though I’ve done no wrong in my freethinking. I’ve harmed no one, and no creature has died for my pleasure. I will enter no plea of any sort before a court having no authority or legitimacy over me for I have pledged allegiance to no god, man, or government, only to the truest essence of peace and to the innocent of the earth, in every and any form they take.”
“No legitimacy or authority is it?” scoffed the Honorable Honor, rolling his eyes; muffled snickers heard from the masses.
“Blasphemy! Heretic! Satan!” shouted the jury of three well aged and grotesquely wrinkled government officials rising to the occasion as they point their pointy pale-white fingers, spotted with age. Their vicious malicious yellowed and bloodshot eyes betray their obvious desire for harm to come to Peter the Vegan, who nonetheless remained composed.
“Burn the pariah! Burn!” shouted these jurymen, banging their scrawny fists on the table while provoking the assemblage to cheer and jeer and mock and stamp their feet in a shameless bloodthirsty ruckus of approval.
“Silence! Silence in the court!” stood the Honorable Honor, pounding his titanium .45 caliber gavel against the sounding block. He took aim along the rows of the gallery. With a sinister intent in his eye, he dared anyone the slightest peep.
“Peter the Vegan, in that you are unwilling to enter your plea, in the name of God and justice I am compelled to do for you. In light of the overwhelming evidence and damnable testimony weighed against you, it can be no other than a plea of guilty, though I request mercy of the court.
“Gentlemen of the jury, how find you?”
“Guilty, your Honorable Honor,” they spoke in unison as they bowed in respect, a slight sneer of satisfaction on their contorted faces.
“Gentlemen of the jury, how act you?”
“A merciful death by fire, your Honorable Honor.”
“So it shall, on morrow’s morn.
“Thank you, esteemed gentlemen of the jury; may God go with you.”