today than we have been in years. Nice try, a*****e." Swaim slammed his fist on the table. Brockway took some vicodin. "So, as I understand it," the prosecutor said, "no one is trying to take your guns or bullets away. You have no intention of using them any time soon, but you're still buying them by the caseload and stockpiling them in your office. In fact, you're wearing three bandoliers of bullets right now, at this second, while you're on the witness stand." "Uh huh." "And you still maintain this has something to do with Obama?" "More like Nobama," I said, slyly. "OBUMa," Brockway added. "OBOMBa," Swaim said. "Obam...GAY," I concluded. Swaim and Brockway nodded their approval. "Look," I said, "I'm just a regular guy. I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you, and I hate doing it, just like you. I don't want the government to have my money. I don't want death panels to murder my grandparents until they start smelling bad. I want to be able to say what I want, when I want to. I want to be able to make all the money in all the world, forever, all the time. And if I feel like any of these freedoms are even vaguely threatened, I want to, you know, buy a shitload of bullets." "But why?" the prosecutor whined. "What are you going to do with them? It's just so confusing, Mr. O'Brien. You worry that taxes will raise the price of ammunition, but in obsessively buying it every time you get a paycheck, you, along with other people in similar mindsets, are effectively forcing the price up on your own, because you're manufacturing a higher demand. And you understand that, when someone writes an article about kidnapping the president's daughters and then starts hoarding thousands of rounds of ammunition, it's enough to give us pause, right? Look! Look at you, you're buying bullets off of co-defendant Robert Brockway, right now!" "Can you blame me? Look, your screaming is just scaring the s**t out of me, and this is what I do when I'm scared." "Ditto," said Brockway, as he repurchased the bullets he'd just sold to me (at a substantial price increase). Here, the judge interjected. "I'm starting to wonder why I called this trial in the first place, and further agreed to suspend the laws that typically govern court rooms in this country."

The prosecutor started: "Your honor, this is not an isolated incident. There are people across America just like Mr. O’Brien…," he paused here, probably because he was impressed with how many bullets I can fit in my mouth (so many),"…almost exactly like Mr. O’Brien. It’s not just this court room, it’s the nation, your honor!” “Get to the point councilor!” the judge bellowed, his hammer poised. "It's just," the prosecutor said, faltering. "It's just all so retarded."

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