TEH-TV...ON TEH AIR!

(Open On): Judge's office. Elderly male Judge sits behind a desk,

cluttered with books, papers, and a slot-machine named, 'Lady Justice'.

Hoop and Biddy Fresh sit on a couch, facing another couch bearing two

grim-faced attorneys.

Judge: Okay, I've called you all here today, to see if we can't mediate your

differences. But first, Mr. Crane, what in holy hell is that?! (Points to Server,

resting on Hoop's shoulder).

Hoop: This is Mr. Server; he's assisting me on this case.

Server: Corpus Juris Secundum! Corpus Juris Secundum! Waaaahk!

Judge: Oy boy! Whatever...I've read your brief, Hoop.

Hoop: And lemmee guess: my brief's stellar presentation of case law

and state law appealed to your primal sense of justice?

Judge: Not. Even. Close. You haven't proved jurisdiction. You haven't

shown cause. Hell, you-all aren't even suing a human being! No, I'm

here because I owe your brother, Denny, a favor!

Hoop: Thanks all the same, Your Honor.

Judge (to Grim-Faced Lawyers): And who might you-all be?

Atty #1: We represent the city of Ex Los Angeles. A certain brother

of our adversary, here, convinced us that the parking meter in

question counts as a "city employee."

Judge: I see. Well, Miss Fresh, I'll ask you: How much would it take

for your to walk away from this--snort!--lawsuit?

BF: A million smackeroos, hombre!

Atty #1: Ab-effin-surd! Plaintiffs are ill-prepared; they haven't even

produced the alleged 'defendant.' (Atty #2 whispers in Atty#1's ear)

In fact, as I understand it, the 'defendant' has vanished from the street

in question.

Hoop: Au contraire, my good man! Call witness Dog!

Door opens. Enter: Dog the Bounty Hunter, and an Elderly White-Coated

Man. Dog pushes a wheelbarrow bearing the Parking Meter.

Dog: Bastard was hiding in Acupulco. But I got 'im! (Dog turns to Hoop):

So this cancels my poker-debt with Denny?

Hoop (grinning broadly): You bet, Dog!

Dog: Hmph...that's how I got into your brother's debt in the first place!

(Dog Exits)

Judge (to White-Coated Man): And who are you, sir?

White Coat: Dr. Quincy, your honor. I'm a coroner. I autopsied this meter,

here.

Judge: I see. And what did you find?

Quincy, M.E.: Fifty seven quarters, twenty-two dimes, and seven nickels.

Atty #2: Your honor, in the interest of saving the court's precious time, we're

prepared to offer Miss Fresh the entire contents of said parking meter. This

way--

Quincy, M.E.: But my inquest got even more interesting. One of the nickels

(Holds up a coin) was a 1937 three-legged Buffalo nickel minted in Denver.

In this condition, it's worth well over one...thousand...dollars.

Attys #1 & #2 blanche in realization, whisper furiously to one another.

Atty #2: Er...well...our offer was to cut Miss Fresh a check for the $19.45

in question.

BF: No! I want that nickel! It's my nickel!

Atty 2: Well, Miss Fresh, there's no earthly way for us to know if the nickel

was yours, in the first place.

Quincy, M.E.: Actually...I took some fingerprints from the nickel, and ran

'em through the criminal database. The results (Holding aloft a manilla

envelope) are right here.

Atty #2: Miss Fresh, we're preapred to forego the unsealing of the report,

and settle this matter for (produces wallet, rifles through his bills)

Seven hundred dollars.

BF: Look, I want pain and suffering damages!! I want defamation dues!

I want--Ouch!

Server spits a high-velocity seed at Fresh's head. Fresh faints from the blow

Server: STFU™! STFU&#153! Squawk!

Hoop: We'll take the deal, gentlemen.

Hoop, Atty #2 shake hands

[Commercial Break]

(Open on:) A street corner. Hoop (with Server perched on his shoulder)

and Quincy guard the wheelbarrow, which now bears a conked-out Miss Fresh.

Hoop: So, Quincy...whose fingerprints were on that nickel?

Quincy (shrugs): What fingerprints?

Hoop: Ah-hahhhhhh...Nicely played, Doctor.

Quincy: So this cancels the favor I owe Denny?

Hoop: Yes, Quince. Most definitely.

Quincy exits.

Miss Fresh comes to.

BF (amnesic): Wha-what happened?

Hoop counts out five hundred-dollar bills; hands them to Fresh

Hoop: Congratulations, Miss Fresh. You won.

BF: Really?! I've never won a case before!

Hoop: What a coincidence! Neither have I.

BF: Maybe we should...go out and celebrate? There's this great

Comedy Club I know.

Hoop: (Checks date-book, which bears only one entry: FIX TOILET)

I'll have to pass, Miss Fresh; I have another client to attend to.

(Screaming fire engine barrels down the street.)

BF: Where do you s'pose it's going?

Hoop (shrugs): Who knows?

~THE END~

TEH-TV (C) 2007

This episode dedicated to Denny F. Crane! and Fatwa Arbuckle

...because they "asked for it."

Pilot Episode

Tonight's Episode: "Teh Wacky Wench"

(Voice-Over)
My name's Hoop. I'm a lawyer.

Just so there's no misunderstanding, I should confess
right now: I never went to law school like my bro',
Denny!. But I've watched every episode of "Law &
Order," and I've seen "Teh Paper Chase" forty-two
times. So you can call me what it sez on my card:

HOOP N. CRANE
(TV) Attorney-at-Law
...No case too dumb.

I sometimes regret that my card has that third line.
'Coz even if there ain't any dumb cases (not at 25
Franklins an hour, there ain't!), there sure as hell's
a horde of dumb people out there.

Take the ditz who shambled into my office this ay-em...

(Fade To--)
Hoop N. Crane, sitting at his battered oak desk.
He's handsome--though not as dashing as DFC!.
He's gobbling a cup of ramyon noodles--bidness
hasn't been so hot. (Close-up) of doorknob
turning, and a Mysterious Figure entering teh
office.

Hoop looks up, smiles reflexively. Then, once
he surveys the specimen who's entered his
office, the smile drops quickly.

(Hoop Voice-Over)
She was blonde and shapely--if grey is a shade of blonde,
and flat counts as a shape. Her perfume was intoxicating
...literally.

Mysterious Figure hiccups, ambles to a chair, and
flops.

Mysterious Figure: I need a lawbaw, stat! Hahahahaha!
Ain't that a riot?! Lawbaw? Stat? Mixin' up the legal and
medical metaphors. Har-har....

Hoop (voice-over): I let my prospective client cackle. Hey,
at twenty-five Franklins an hour, her leaden joke had just
cost her a C-note...

Hoop (to MF): Ma'am, do you have a legal matter to discuss?
Because comic-law isn't exactly one of my specialties.

MF: Well, yes. My name's Biddy Fresh, but you can call me
'Doctor.'

Hoop: As you wish...Doctor.

BF: Now...I wanna sue someone for defamating me!

Hoop (shakes head): I take it that your doctorate isn't in
law.

BF: No...why?

Hoop: Because, Miss Fresh, 'defamating' isn't even a word.

BF: Oh....Well...I meant that someone blogged something
that defamed me. That's actionable! And now I want action!

Hoop (voice-over): I thought that if this missie had gotten a
little more 'action' in life, maybe she wouldn't stink like a still.
It would have helped matters--I was finding it difficult to
stay unbuzzed from her hundred-fiddy-proof aura...

Hoop (to BF): Well, first things first: There's an old saying
among us 'lawbaws.'

DF: Yeah?

Hoop: 'Don't parrot legal terms, unless you know the law
better than a parrot.' The reason we're here, Miss Fresh,
is for you to tell me the facts. Then I'll tell you whether
the facts warrant legal action. Capice?

DF (looking wounded): Capice.

(Close-up): Hoop surreptitiously slips open his desk, slides
out a well-worn copy of TORT LAW FOR DUMMIES! and
rests it in his lap. He flips open the book to a checklist:

Question One: Is the client dead? Defamation of a
deceased person is NOT actionable __Yes __No

Hoop (voice-over): I studied Miss Fresh. It was hard to
tell. She was dead above the neck--that was for sure.
And below the waist? Ditto. But her gums were flapping,
so I checked 'No.'

Question Two: Was something published about the
client which harmed their reputation? __ Yes __No

Hoop (to BF): Did someone write something bad about you?

BF: Oh, yes!! They said I threatened a toddler! They said I
harassed--

(Close-up) Hoop clicks a button under his desk marked,
"STFU!" Biddy's voice cuts off.

Hoop (voice-over): One of the perks of being a TV-lawbaw
is that you get dibs on the sooper-kewl props from defunct TV
shows. For forty measly bucks, I scored an Invisible Cone of
Silence from teh "Get Smart" set...

(Close-up) Biddy histrionically yammering, arms flailing.

Hoop (voice-over):...best forty bucks I ever spent.

Hoop (to BF): Okay...let's proceed to the next question.

Question Three: Is the client a public figure?
__Yes __No

Hoop (to BF): Have you had a central role in some public
controversy?

BF: No, I haven't. I'm just a private citizen minding her
own--

Office is filled with enormous BUZZ!! Biddy yelps in
pain.

BF: What the phu*ue is that?!

Hoop: Oh....that. I should have told you before. My
TV-pal, F. Lee Bailout, equipped that chair with a Lie
Detector. You lie, your ass gets zapped. Capice?

BF: But I wasn't--

Hoop (wagging a finger at BF): Tut-tut, Miss
Fresh. If you say you weren't lying when you did
lie, then that, too, is a lie. Don't tempt that chair!

BF (chastened): Okay, fine. I was involved in a
blog brawl.

Hoop: Has it received any media attention?

BF: Not really.

Chair: BZZZZT!

Hoop (voice-over): I hoped that this overgrown
lab-rat would get the point already: lie equals zap
...lie equals zap. Because Biddy's flesh was starting
to cook...and the scent of roast Fresh-loins was...how
shall we say?...not-so-fresh.

BF (rubbing pained posterior): Okay, OKAY!
But it was just a few newspapers and Faux News.
(defiantly) That can't count for much.

Hoop (voice-over): Charles Darwin famously
claimed that we evolved over our bretheren in
the primate-cages...

(Close-up): Biddy looking indignant, certain of
her position.

Hoop (voice-over): ...Clients like this made me
question Darwin.

Hoop (to BF): I take it a few hundred blogs might
have also got in on the action, right?

BF (eyeing chair warily): Y-yes.

Hoop: Okay...so you had a central role in a public
controversy. Did you assume this role voluntarily?

(Beat. Two beats. Close-up on BF. She wants
to lie. She doesn't want to get zapped. Like
Buridan's famous ass, Biddy is paralyzed for a
pregnant moment.)

BF: "I-I might have said I wanted to be a left-wing
Ann Coulter...and that I wanted to be on Stephen
Colbert's show."

Hoop: I see.

(Hoop glances down at his 'Cheat Sheet':

Question 4:
Did s/he a) voluntarity _X_Yes __No
b) assume a role _X_Yes __No
c) in a public issue _X_ Yes __No

If all 3 are 'yes,' see "What to Do When Your
Client is Dead Meat.")

Hoop: Well, Miss Fresh, this complicates matters. In
simple English, the cases of Sullivan-en-why-tee '64
and Gertz vee Welch '74 mean that you'd have to show
malice, on your critics' part.

BF (jumping up): But they were malicious!! Look,
look!

Biddy strips off her fanny-pack, opens it, and
dumps its contents on Hoop's desktop. Hoop's
hands rummage through the flotsam of empty
WTF™ nip-bottles, and jetsam of 'Bush is a
Taywrist!!' buttons, to draw out some tatttered
printouts of screen-caps.

Hoop: First of all, Biddy, what did I tell you about birdbrains
parroting legal terms? The law isn't one of your
postmodernist conferences--we don't fling words because
they feel good; we employ words because they mean
something. Capice? And in this case, 'malice' is a word
with a special legal meaning.

(Two beats)

Hoop (paging through the screen-caps): Now, these
websites are making some specific allegations: That you
harassed certain fire department members, that you
libelled your adversaries as 'child molesters', that you
used a racial epithet to describe our Secretary of State.
Are you saying, Miss Fresh, that these allegations are
false?

(Biddy wilts. The Chair, she knows, will not let
her lie.)

Hoop: So they're true. In that case, you have no case.

(Biddy leaps up)

BF: Shyster! Ima gonna find another lawbaw, and sue
you!! I shoulda known you were in on the conspiracy!

(Biddy stumbles from the room, slamming the
door on her way out.)

Hoop (voice-over): As Miss Fresh and her stale hun-
fiddy-proof cloud left my office, I tried to inventory
the meeting:

"Get Smart" Cone of Silence...$39.99
F. Lee Bailout Lie Detecting Chair...$89.99
Giving the Chair a Test-Drive on a Pathological
Liar....PRICELESS

Gawd....I love being a tee-vee law-baw!

(Closing Credits)
TEH-TV ® 2007

We commence our broadcast day with Teh National
Anthem...

Teh Squeak-Wheeling Cages

Oh, say can you hear
the sweet Gerbils' squeaked cheer?
How so proudly they ran
in their cages so gleaming...
Whose strong bars, and shavings
through the perilous fight.
Oh the batfrisch we watched
was so pungently steaming.

And Miss Rabbit was there,
her sockpuppets, so fair,
squeaked Truth through the night
and spread mirth through the lair.

Oh, say do those squeak-wheeling cages
yet trill...
For teh horde to roam free,
And to meep at will?