Vampyres: Fluff: Witness for the Persecution (with apologies to Agatha Christie)

["A. Fraser" <redoak@interlog.com>]

Witness for the Persecution
copyright 2000
by Anne Fraser
++++++++++++++++++

For what it's worth, I actually have permission to use the personas who
appear in this.  No, their muses/mediums/creators did not know *what* I was
going to do with them.  Ah, carte blanche is *such* fun...
_______________________


"All rise!"

The assembled personages in the court room rose, lurched, or shuffled to
their feet or what passed for feet, according to their natures.

"Night divorce court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Beetlejuice
presiding!  You may be seated!"

As the zombie bailiff rasped out the word "seated", the spectators, lawyers
and other even less mentionable creatures in the room plunked down into
their seats.  There was a slight ripple effect on the floor boards.  The
judge, wild white hair, striped suit and all, took his place behind the
bench and rapped the desk with what appeared to be the thighbone of a wooly
mammoth.  The mammoth didn't look too happy about this.

"Friends," intoned the infamous poltergeist, "we are gathered here today to
join this man and this woman in unholy magnamity..."

The bailiff leaned close to the judge and whispered something.  

"What?" Beetlejuice stared, his eyes literally popping out of his head and
rolling towards the first set of lawyers.  One of them gave chase, tail
wagging, but the bailiff whacked him with the _Guide to Living With the
Undead_ and retrieved the eyeballs for the judge, who put them back in with
a sickening "plurp".

"Friends," said the judge, "we are apparently gathered here to SEPARATE
this man from this woman, by surgery if necessary, since the bailiff here
tells me that this is divorce court... now what?"  For the bailiff was
tugging on Beetlejuice's arm, disturbing a tarantula that was crawling up it.

The bailiff simply pointed at the two filing for divorce.  A finger dropped
off, but the judge was still able to see he'd made another mistake.

"My apologies," he said, tipping his ice cream salesman's hat to the
unhappy couple before him.  "This is the twenty-first century, after all,
che sara sara, live and let undie and all that.  Nobody can say I'm not
progressive and all for equal opportunity."  He banged the mammoth bone
again, and the mammoth was really starting to get pissed off.  "Friends,"
Judge Beetlejuice said again, "we are gathered here to UNjoin this man and
this other man from the bonds of acrimony.  Do you have your cases ready,
you bloodsuckers?"

The pair who were filing for divorce looked offended.

"Just because I am a vampire..." began the shorter of the two men.

"And me, too," added the taller one.

"I was talking to the lawyers," snapped the judge.

"We are ready," nodded the first team of lawyers.  Their briefcase was
labelled "Swindoll and Chete".

"We're twice as ready as they are," countered the other team, who were all
wearing matching t-shirts emblazoned with their corporate name; "Ketchum,
Rookum and Splitte."

"Right," said the judge.  "Which one actually wants the divorce?"

"That is my client," said Swindoll.  "Mr. Joshua Daniel Trevallion is
filing for divorce from his husband, Baron Gideon Redoak."

"On what grounds?" asked Beetlejuice.

"Columbian coffee, I believe."

Beetlejuice banged his mammoth gavel again.  The mammoth got so offended
that it trumpeted and left the courtroom in high dudgeon.  Being a mammoth,
it couldn't very well leave in low dudgeon, it would have hit its head on
the way out.

"Sorry, your honor," said Swindoll, "I meant to say 'irreconcilable
differences'."

"Now that I can relate to!" exclaimed the judge.  "Call your first witness!"

"First witness!" Swindoll hollered, leaping up onto the table provided for
the use of the lawyers and their clients and cupping his hands over his
mouth.  "First witness!  Soooo-eeee!"

A woman sashayed forward out of the audience.  Quite short, by today's
standards. Barely 5'4". Curvaceous, bordering on Rubenesque. Generally
Italian-looking. Thick, curly, unmanageable waist-length hair, dark eyes,
Roman nose, olive skin. Her looks were "interesting" rather than
"pretty"--but her friends tended to forget that, for some reason. (Think
Cecilia Bartoli's older, much plainer sister, if that helps.) The
illegitimate child of a Roman seamstress and an itinerate priest, she
claimed ancestry with a famous family of priests, as well as the Borgias. 

The bailiff thrust the _Guide to Living with the Undead_ out at her. "Put
your right hand on the book," he commanded."Doyousweartotellthetruththe
wholetruthandnothingbutthetruthsohelpyoustephenking?"

"I do," the woman blinked.

"Take the stand, please," the bailiff said.

"Oh, if you don't mind, I'd rather not.  There's just nowhere in Redoak
Hall for another piece of furniture, caro."

Beetlejuice looked around for something to bang.  He settled for rapping
the bailiff's head.  "Just stand in the stand!" he commanded.  She did so.  

"State your name," Swindoll asked her.

"Giuli-Sofia Bellarmine-Redoak," replied the little Italian.

"Profession?"

"Which one? Singer, actress, nanny, kept woman, professor, antiques
dealer...?"

"How long have you known Mr. Trevallion?"

"Since 1990."

"Was he married to Baron Redoak at the time you knew him?"

"No, caro mio, they were living in sin together."

"Objection!" Ketchum, Rookum and Splitte's t-shirted team was jumping up
and down.  "Objection!  They were't living in sin.  They were living in
Maine."

"Objection overruled on grounds of silliness," Beetlejuice growled.

"And when did the couple marry?" Swindoll continued to grill his witness,
pausing now and then to slather on some President's Choice Memories of 
Torquemada barbeque sauce and sprinkle a little rosemary and oregano.

"In 1995, in December.  At Club Undead.  Ah, bellisimo, such a beautiful
wedding, and that is where I met Percy."  She waved at someone in the
audience.

"And did they seem like a happily married couple to you?  Or was my client
already a victim of cruelty, indifference and wanton neglect?"

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum.  "Objection!" yelled Rookum.  "Objection!"
yelled Splitte.  They lined up and began singing.  

      "We object, we object, this witness we reject!  
       Pull your witness off the stand, Swindoll, 
       her statements should be wrecked.  
       It's absurd, don't you see, 
       to accept her testimony! 
       Try another, it's auspicious; 
       don't believe us?  Ask the dishes!"

"Silence in court!"  Beetlejuice turned into a giant cockroach and glared
down at the lawyers.  "One more Disney song out of any of you, and I'll
hold you in contempt!"  He suddenly donned a huge fake plastic nose, topped
by huge fake plastic spectacles, in turn topped by huge fake eyebrows.  He
flicked a cigar. "Mind you, I hold you in contempt already," he said.

"May I get on with it?" Swindoll asked.  "My broomstick is double-parked."

"Yes!" Beetlejuice said, reverting to his normal (?) form.  "But no more
singing!  This isn't Cop Rock."

"Well, thank Fred Saberhagen for that," said Swindoll and went back to his
witness.  "Now, Sofi, my love; for old time's sake... you do remember those
good old days back in aught-six, don't you?"

"Muy buono," said Sofi with a little smile.  "Sonny Bono, too."

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum.  "Leading the witness!"

"Oh, no, carissimo," Sofi said, leaning forward.  "Diggory here was
definitely following me, not leading."

"Objection granted!" Beetlejuice said, pounding his own thighbone on his desk.

"Sofi," Swindoll purred into her ear.  "Sofi, darling... tell us about the
nasty-wasty Baron and how badly he treated my client."

"Oh, caro... the Baron is a brute!  I can tell you he does nothing but
patronize me.  And as for how he treats Joshua..."  She bit her fingers.
"No, I cannot, it is just too, too brutal.  How can I describe the
arguments over how many forks to lay on the table?   The terrible, terrible
scene when Joshua once accidentally broke a bit of cork off and it fell
into the wine bottle?  The pure rage over the little faux pas of calling a
napkin a serviette?  Poor Joshua is so sensitive, but the Baron cares
nothing for his feelings!"

"I know this is hard for you, Sofi," Swindoll patted her hand.  "Be strong."

"Grazi, grazi."

"You may step down, Sofi," said Swindoll graciously.

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum, Rookum and Splitte.  "We didn't get to
question the witness!"

"Of course not!" said Chete, speaking up for the first time.  "She's our
witness, you dummies!"

"Call your next witness," said the bailiff.

Swindoll leapt up onto the table again.  "Next witness!" he hollered.

Another woman came forward, this one a little taller than Sofi but equally
buxom, curvaceous and bodacious.  She, too, had dark hair; and really
amazing blue-green eyes.  She was carrying a basket full of herbs, which
she bestowed aimlessly upon members of the court as she trailed past,
leaving herbal havoc behind her.  Many an audience member had cause to rue
her passing.

"Doyousweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,sohelpyouanneric
e?"

"I do."

"State your name, please," Swindoll said once this new woman had taken the
stand.

"Pandora Edwards," she replied.

"Profession?"

"Healer, herbalist, and mother.  Hi, Aisling, mommy will be through here
soon."

"And how long have you known the petitioner and respondant?"

"Ever since I stepped through a magic oak tree and found myself in their
front yard."

"Did you attend their wedding on Club Undead?"

"I certainly did.  Gideon, did you ever use that ointment in the jar marked
"for dire emergencies only"?"

"Please do not speak to the respondant, Mrs. Edwards.  You are here as a
witness for the petitioner."

"Sorry."

"And did the couple appear to be happy at the time of their wedding?"

"Well, there was all that trouble with Owen, and the weird tiki guys, and a
volcano, and Yggdrasil... would you like some herbal tea?  You look very
tense."

"So, right from the wedding, there has been trouble in this relationship?"

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum.

"On what grounds?" asked Beetlejuice, trying to get the tarantula out of
his left ear.

"Columbian coffee?"

"No running gags in my courtroom! Objection overruled!"

"Now, Mrs. Edwards," Swindoll leaned forward, "have you ever observed any
acrimony between the couple?"

"Antimony is very good for some ailments..."

"Acrimony!"

"Well, yes, that, too."

"Can you tell us about those times you witnessed this acrimony?"

"There was the time that Joshua ran away from home, of course; but..."

"Ran away from home!" Swindoll shouted in triumph, quite drowning out his
witness.  "Now, is that the action of a man who is getting along with his
husband?  No!  Is that the action of someone who is deeply in love with
their spouse?  No!  It is the action of a man who is desperately afraid, a
man who runs from his tormentor, a man who is trying valiantly to escape
the cruelty and neglect inflicted upon him by his uncaring husband!"
Swindoll pointed a shaking finger at the astounded-looking Baron.  "You!
You brute!"

"OBJECTION!" howled Splitte.

"Leave our client alone, you big bully!" shouted Rookum.

"QUIET!" said Beetlejuice, rapping on his desk with the bailiff.  "I will
not have my courtroom turned into a circus!"

The entire cast of Cirque du Soleil stuck their tongues out at Beetlejuice
and left, trailing trapeze wires and the odd contortionist in their wake.

"I think we've heard enough, Mrs. Edwards," said Swindoll.  "You may step
down."

"But..."

"Look, there goes Mother Nature!  I'm sure you two want to have a little
chat."

Pandora leapt gracefully down off the platform and went chasing off after
Mother Nature, a veritable shower of herbs and flower petals marking her path.

"Call your next witness," said the bailiff.

"And don't jump up on the furniture," added Beetlejuice.  "Bad lawyer!  Bad!"

Swindoll whined and laid his ears back.  "Next witness," he whispered.

A small boy in a very large black hat came forward, clutching his mother's
hand tightly.  "I saw everything," he whispered.  "The bad policeman killed
that man in the bathroom at the train station."

Harrison Ford ran in, scooped up the boy, grabbed the mother, and ran back
out.  "Wrong movie!" he yelled back over his shoulder.

"Next witness!" Chete thought it was high time she got to yell.

A shaggy man of nearly thirty, in jeans and a sweatshirt, came forward.  He
looked sheepish, which is no mean feat for a werewolf.

"Doyousweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,sohelpyoutanithl
ee?"

"I do."

"State your name!" Swindoll barked.

"Can't you just smell my butthole and tell all about me?" asked the young man.

"Just tell the court your name," growled the lawyer.

"Gaylord Pritchard."

People snickered.  The witness bared some impressive canines, but Swindoll
and Chete quickly put their clothes back on.

"Gaylord?" Swindoll was howling.  

"It's my name, all right?"

"Profession?  Gaylord?"

Ignoring the snickering, the witness replied, with dignity, "Executive
assistant to Baron Gideon Redoak."

"Considering what we know about the Baron, is that the safest employment
for someone named Gaylord?"

"OBJECTION!" Ketchum roared.  "He's bullying the witness!"

"It's his witness, Mr. Ketchum," replied Beetlejuice. "Swindoll, stop
bullying your witness."

"Sorry, your honor.  Gaylord (snicker), how long have you known the couple?"

"I've known the Boss since..."

"You know Bruce Springsteen?" Chete interupted.  "Can you get me his
autograph?"

"Objection!" Splitte said.

"Now what?" Beetlejuice asked.

"Irrelevancy."

"Objection granted.  Stick to the case on hand, please, Ms Chete."

"Yes, yer honor."

"And in the time you have known them," Swindoll said, deciding to skip the
details, "have they been a happy couple?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Objection!" shouted Chete.

"You can't object to your own witness," said Beetlejuice, hitting her over
the head with the bailiff.

"Has the Baron ever mistreated Joshua?" asked Swindoll.

"Well, there was that time Josh stormed out when they had the big fight
over him not wanting to become a vampire..."

"You see?"  Swindoll pointed a shaking paw... er, finger... at the Baron.
"You see?  You vampires are all the same!  You're stupid!  Stupid!  Stupid!"

"But..." Gaylord started to say.

"It's a full moon!" Swindoll yelled.  "Better go find a rawhide bone,
before it's too late!"

"Call your next witness!" the bailiff ordered as the werewolf ran out in
search of Milk Biscuits... or the mailman, whichever came first.

"Next witness!" Chete hollered.

A muscular, auburn-haired man who clanked when he walked came up to the
stand.  When he raised his hand to take the oath, two trick knives and a
derringer fell out of his sleeve.

"Doyousweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,sohelpyou
bramstoker?"

"I do."

"What is your name?" Swindoll asked.

"Evan Jones."

"Profession?"

"Bodyguard to the undead."

"Do you get dental with that?"

"There are definitely teeth involved."

"How long have you known the couple?"

"I've known the Baron since the 1700's, and Joshua since he and the Baron
first started dating."

"And you attended the wedding?"

"Oh, boy, did I."  Evan shook his head, dislodging the icepick concealed
in his hair and the strangling cord cleverly hidden in his shirt collar.

"Was it a happy occasion?"

"Apart from the attack by vampire Navy SEALS, the island nearly blowing
up, the weird tiki guys and my own damned son, you mean?"

"And has the relationship between my client and your employer been
harmonious?  Or has the Baron's dark nature twisted and warped my client's
natural sympathies?"

"Uh..."

"Isn't it true, Mr. Jones, that my client has been kidnapped, beaten up,
threatened, exposed to dangerous beings, bitten, dragged to strange
parties and midnight revels, been forced to participate in unspeakable
rituals, and finally turned into a vampire; all due to his marriage to the
respondent?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Thank you, Mr. Jones, that is all."

Evan stood up, his jacket gaping open to reveal three Magnums, at least
one of them actually a gun rather than champagne; a sawed-off shotgun, two
swords, a Bowie knife, a Kukri knife, a Swiss Army knife, a bullwhip, a
motorcycle chain and a Tamagotchi that was beeping to be fed.

"You're very lucky I came unarmed," the bodyguard said to the lawyers.
"This case is a mockery!"

"It took you this long to figure that out?" asked Beetlejuice.

"Call your next witness!" the bailiff told Swindoll and Chete.

"Don't bother," said a woman's voice.  "I _never_ come when I'm called."

She strutted up to the front of the courtroom, causing every male neck 
(and some males without necks) to crane.  She was tall, with dark hair 
with reddish highlights, and drop-dead gorgeous.  She wore a black PVC 
corset, black leather hotpants, black fishnet stockings, elbow-length 
black spiderweb lace gloves without any fingers in them, and 
stilletto-heeled soft suede boots that went up to her thighs--you guess 
the colour.  She carried a riding crop and occasionally slapped it 
against her thigh gently but with feeling, as if looking for someone to 
apply it to more vigorously.  Her eyes dwelt long on the previous 
witness.

"Doyousweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,sohelpyou 
neilgaiman?"

"What's in it for me if I do?" she purred.  "Oh, out loud, right?"

"State your name, please," Swindoll asked.  He was sweating.

"The Lady in Black."

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum.

"You can't object to a witness' name!" Chete said.

"That's not a name!" said Rookum.

The Lady in the stands looked long and hard at Rookum.  He went a whiter 
shade of pale and subsided into his seat.  "It's actually a very nice 
name," he mumbled.

"Now, Lady in Black," Swindoll leaned forward, sweat pouring freely from
every, er, pore.  "How long have you known the petitioner and respondent?"

"I've never actually _known_ them," she replied.  "They don't swing my
way.  Their loss."

"Did you attend the wedding?" Swindoll wrang out his shirt.

"Could they possibly have had it without me?"

Swindoll fainted. Chete rolled her eyes and they came up sevens.  She
retrieved them, stuck them back in with the obligatory "plurp" and took
over questioning the witness.

"My Lady," said Chete, trying not to show how inadequate she felt next to
this damsel in dark, the beauty in black, the woman in whiteless wear,
the... get on with it!  "Will you tell the court exactly what occurred
between you and the respondant at the Casa Loma Christmas party?"

"Oh, you want to know about that?"

"Yes.  Very much."  Chete glanced down at her colleague.  Still out cold,
the dog.  One flash of a stiletto heel and he went down for the long stay.
Men.

"There was a kissing contest," said the Lady in Black dreamily, swishing
the riding crop and making several men swoon.  "And likely due to my
incredible sex appeal and his own inner turmoil, Gideon decided that I
should be the one he enter the contest with.  Poor Joshua was devastated."

"And what happened in the contest?" Chete asked.  

"I kissed him back, of course.  And for a moment, only a moment but the
thought was there, he reconsidered his sexual preference."

"OBJECTION!" howled Splitte while the Baron turned a nice shade of red.

"Overruled," snapped Beetlejuice.

"You haven't even heard my objection," Splitte objected.

Beetlejuice turned into a giant snake and ate Splitte, but hurriedly spit
the lawyer back out.  

"Thank you, Lady in Black," said Chete.  "You may step down."

She did so.  On Swindoll.  The lawyer fainted again.

"Call your next witness!" the bailiff ordered.

"We seem to have run out of them," replied Chete.  

"Then call the petitioner!"

"Josh!  Get yer cute buns up here!" 

The petitioner minced up to the stand and raised a very limp hand to take
the oath.

"Doyousweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,sohelpyoupoppy
zbrite?"

"I do."

Swindoll was starting to come around.  He moaned.

"Is he all right?" Josh lisped.

"Pay no attention to him," Chete snarled.  "State your name, please."

"Joshua Daniel Trevallion."

"Profession?"

"Antiques broker."

"Tell us why you're filing for divorce, Joshua."

"I just can't take it any more.  The bullying, the petty jealousies, the
neglect.  He kissed her!" He pointed at the Lady in Black.  "Do you know
what it's like to see your husband kiss another woman?"

"Yes," said Chete.  "That's why I ate him.  Oh, out loud?  So, the Baron
has abused and neglected you?"

"Oh, yes, he's dreadful!  And speaking of dreadful, where did you get that
dress, darling?  It's just so not you.  Listen, I have a discount at
Nordstrom's and I'm like *that* with the salesladies..."
 	
"What's wrong with my dress?" Chete asked, her lip trembling.

Swindoll moaned again and sat up.

"Objection!" yelled Ketchum.  He'd been busy helping Splitte sponge off
Beetlejuice juice.  "The dress is irrelevant!"

"You can say that again," Josh sniffed.

"And what else has the Baron done to make you want to file for divorce?"
Chete asked, scratching Swindoll behind the ears as he rubbed against her
legs.

"Well, he made me get turned into a vampire."

"Your honour, we rest our case."

"And about time, too."  Beetlejuice pounded on his desk with Rookum.

"Objection!" the lawyer screamed as his head made the desk splinter.

"The court has heard enough!" Beetlejuice tossed Rookum, knocking down 
Ketchum but leaving Splitte standing.  "Damn, another bad split!" he 
said, and a bowling ball materialized and mowed down the remaining 
lawyer for the respondent.  "I decide to grant this divorce!  The court 
awards the petitioner half the Baron's estate and custody of the 
werewolf.  Case dimissed!"

Everyone in the courtroom rose up into the air and began dancing as calypso
music filtered in from nowhere.

    Shake, shake, shake, senora, shake your body line
    Shake, shake, shake, senora, shake it all the time
    Work, work, work, senora, work it all the time

    My girl's name is Senora
    I tell you friends, I adore her
    And when she dances, oh brother
    She's a hurry-cane in all kinds of weather

    (Jump in de line, rock your body in time)-OK, I believe you
    (Jump in de line, rock your body in time)-OK, I believe you
    (Jump in de line, rock your body in time)-OK, I believe you
    (Jump in de line, rock your body in time)-Whoa

(Jump In the Line: Harry Belafonte: Words and Music by Stephen Somvel.
Used without permission.  Go ahead, sue. MY lawyers are Wolfram and Hart.)
________________________
The character of Beetlejuice is copyright of Universal Studios, borrowed
without permission.  See above.  My lawyers can beat up your lawyers.  My
lawyers can probably *eat* your lawyers.

My sincere thanks and grovelling apologies to the forces behind Sofi, 
Pandora and the Lady in Black.  Uh, ladies?  Ladies?  Put down those 
baseball bats... it's a joke... um... I'll send you a postcard from 
Switzerland!  Bye!