The Trial of Jack Scrotie, Installment One: The beginning of the end for a guilty man

Aug 20, 2018 | | Say something

Chapter 1: A Weak and Pitiful Specimen

It was April 7th, Matt’s birthday apparently, and his birthday party was a spectacle for the ages. For it was on this glorious day that the criminal traitor Jack Scrotie was convicted of and executed for the crime of quitting the greatest band ever, Kro-Magnon. They say that God loves blood, and he must have especially enjoyed Jack’s blood because Jack was a catastrophic curse upon the Earth. He tendered his resignation by fucking text message god damn him. Jack Scrotie was a pussy and he died like a bitch.

Jack’s trial was the perfect manifestation of pure justice, as it was conducted with absolute efficiency. The judge, prosecutor, and defense attorney were all in agreement in advance on what was to be the outcome of the trial. A traitor was going to die, painfully, and with plenty of torture to warm him up for his forced entry into eternal oblivion.

What a cute dog

The trial of Jack Scrotie took place in the Kangaroo Court, on top of a two-mile-tall psilocybin mushroom, the largest in Kromagnia, the legendary land ruled over by Matt White. Matt is the sexiest most badass guitarist the world has ever known and was the trial’s prosecuting attorney. Voluntary attendance was mandatory for all citizens, and there was great fanfare and excitement in the air, as public executions have always been popular entertainment for the masses.

When I entered the courtroom, which was the size of two football fields, mostly for the sake of seating a large audience, the room was abuzz with excited talk. Over 10,000 people were in attendance, and everyone was returning to their seat in preparation. The seating was stadium-style—each row slightly higher than the one in front of it. I walked down the aisle to the front of the courtroom.

At the very front and center was the judge’s bench, and off to the left was the jury bench. The prosecution table was just left of the aisle, right in front of the crowd, and the defense table was to the right. Matt White took his seat at the prosecution table, and I sat at the defense table with the accused, for I had been given the undesirable task of defending a traitor. I placed my briefcase on the table, patiently leaving it closed for now, even though I wished to get high on its contents immediately.

Do it for the doggo

Jack was wearing a red and darker-red striped shirt and jeans. He had long dark-brown hair, was skinny and scrawny, had pale skin and acne, and looked like a girl, but not a pretty one. I would describe his face in greater detail, but the less you know about it the better. I had an insane urge to ask him how he was doing, seeing as how he was about to be murdered by justice and all, but I knew it was mere polite instinct. It was impossible to truly care about someone as stupid and lame as Jack.

Everyone rose for the Honorable Judge Nick Labia, and he took his seat on the bench. He was a handsome rat-faced man with a big nose and long brown hair, wearing a gorgeous black robe. Judge Nick banged his “gavel”, which was actually a spiky dildo designed for people with a bloody anus fetish, and declared, “Order! Order in the court! I just ate a meatball sub and there was a dolphin’s penis in it instead of meatballs. It was rubbery yet delicious.” With this insane decree, he commanded the attention of the entire packed courtroom.

As you can see, this dolphin no longer has its penis. Nick ate it.

“The trial of Jack Scrotie will now begin. The defendant has been charged with desertion. The jury will be tasked with determining his guilt or innocence. Once he is found guilty, Jack will be murdered in the most horrifying and entertaining way imaginable.”

Suddenly, Nick gritted his teeth and pounded his spiky dildo, for the crowded room erupted in cheers upon learning of Jack’s imminent demise. “Everybody shut the fuck up!” Judge Nick screamed, and all were cowed into silence. “How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty!” Jack lied through his cum-covered teeth. He was immediately bombarded by sodas and buckets of popcorn and was quickly pummeled into submission. I had tried to convince Jack to accept the plea deal I’d negotiated for him, but he refused on the whiny and irrelevant grounds that he would still be tortured and die if he took the deal.

You can buy the hilarious book on Amazon here:

Or just wait for next weeks installment of the trial of Jack Scrotie!

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