I want my law degree from Stetson University. A real one, not some fake honorary thing.
If they go through their records, they will find that I bought a library card in the summer of 1995 or 1996. I likely also secured a parking sticker for my car. I lived on Hummingbird Street at the time. (I never saw any hummingbirds, but no matter. It did not detract from the experience.)
I will not be paying any fees or getting any licenses or anything. It’s just not my modus operandi. I would appreciate it if you would call Stetson and just get my degree for me. I want to be able to tell my customers that they have the finest day laborer in town: some guy who shows up with both a hangover and a law degree. I’ll finally be the loser that everyone thinks I am.
What does the word “Esquire” mean, anyway? Is that a title of some sort? Is that what lawyers are called? It’s a bit grand, isn’t it? It’s like my friend who sells cell phones at the local strip mall, the one that has the dollar store in it. My friend’s title is “Account Executive.” He is an Account Executive to the welfare recipients who use their EBT cards to buy soda and potato chips at the dollar store and then come in to the cell phone store to buy a five-hundred-dollar smartphone that they can do Loserbook on. Wouldn’t the term “Law Talker” suffice? ‘Esquire:’ It sounds like I’d be riding a horse through the wood, past a refined country estate and on to the castle to beseech the sovereign for some remedy at law for my client. That’s not remotely related to draining the system dry or causing decay merely by speaking. So I would prefer to be referred to as “Christopher King, Law Talker Extraordinaire.”
I know you’re busy, so I’ve put together a script you can follow when you make your phone call. Please adopt an adequately imperious tone for maximum comedic effect:
“This is Senator Leahy. You know who I am. Get me the man in charge. I’ll wait.
“Thank you for taking my call, Dean. It seems you’ve got a star on your hands. There is a known, dangerous terrorist who also was a professional, critically acclaimed comedian long before this idiot jurisdiction ever waddled onto the scene to declare him to meet the legal definition of the filth-beast word of art ‘terrorist,’ thereby conferring upon him what he calls –let me see here; what did he call it? Ah, here it is: the ‘informational primacy’ necessary to the divesting of the United States Government of the moral authority by which it operates, and thereby did he kill the federal jurisdiction by speaking. I’ve asked around and no one can seem to recall precisely why anyone thought it was a bright idea to declare a professional comedian to be a terrorist. Oh well. I guess he can add that to his list of professional distinctions. It’s another one for the history books. And people still wonder how he gets off calling himself America’s Senior Comedian.
“Listen: You know how we all just want to vomit at the pure trash that we’re forced to churn out from our hallowed, ivy-covered halls these days? Spoiled little brats goin’ to law school on mommy and daddy’s dime, snot-nosed little bastards who sit there in class, chattering like little rats, just waiting to get out of the starting gate so that they can amass as much money as possible, leaving nothing but ruination in their wake? Yeah: It seems I’ve found the fabled Redeemer of the World’s Original Filth Guild, the world’s second oldest profession. (We lost by a nose.)
“No, he won’t pay any fees or buy any Student Union memberships. And he won’t sit for any exams. Trust me, I know this guy. Just give him his degree and consider yourselves fortunate that he selected yours above all other law schools –you know, what with you being right down the street and everything.
“I have found he who would restore our guild to its proper place of honor, a man who respects our once-beautiful machine, a simple man who only ever wanted to know the rules of this world so that he might prosper by them.
“Thank you for your kind attention in this matter. I trust that I may expect the delivery of his degree forthwith? Excellent. Good day, Dean.”