Uh oh. I did it again. Fell asleep after all the kids got on the bus, so now I gotta get all these munchkins home in the next ten minutes. My route usually takes two hours, so I&rsquo;ll go a little over double the speed limit. If I don&rsquo;t make it, I&rsquo;m fired for sure &mdash; Principal Malone is super strict about fifteenth time offenses.
&ldquo;Sit down and shut up!&rdquo; I yell to myself after shrieking in fear. The kids are in the back being little angels &mdash; I hope this is a sleep deprived hallucination and they&rsquo;re not already dead. I hit the gas and take a two-minute nap.
Eight minutes left. Kenny&rsquo;s house is first up and it&rsquo;s two miles away. We&rsquo;ll be there in ten seconds. I tell Kenny to aim for the mattress out front. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no mattress out&mdash;&ldquo; He lands in a bush.
Time to deal with the other thirty-nine. I&rsquo;m hurling kids into their front yards left and right. All the tossing reminds me of my paper route. Oh no. Today is my paper route. And if today&rsquo;s my paper route that means it&rsquo;s milk delivery day too. I was wondering why the bus had more milk than normal.
Two minutes left. There&rsquo;s 180 kids in the back with an entire home owners&rsquo; association and that&rsquo;s not including my side-gig cab fares.
I blink and look back. No kids. No seatbelts. No seats. No bus. It was slowing me down. I&rsquo;m running with the last kid on my nude back. Aerodynamics. I&rsquo;ve got twenty seconds left. The kid&rsquo;s screaming something about him being Principal Malone and how the kids were supposed to go to a museum. I&rsquo;m not listening though &mdash; it&rsquo;s nap time.

Uh oh. I did it again. Fell asleep after all the kids got on the bus, so now I gotta get all these m...

Bus Driver

&ndash; First day, huh. Nervous? I know I was.
&ndash; No. I have everything set up. I prepared the Judge&rsquo;s papers, I bought a new bible, I gave everyone gavels, I&mdash;
&ndash; Wait. What did you just say?
&ndash; I gave everyone gavels.
&ndash; Perfect. That&rsquo;s very good. Good job, bailiff.
The judge sits down and bangs her gavel. Court starts now.
The prosecution says his oral argument. It&rsquo;s about him being a fierce and mighty gavel whacker.
Jurors are bonking each other on the heads.
Defendant tells his gavel that he&rsquo;s guilty.
&ldquo;Clunk clunk, thunk, clunk,&rdquo; the defense attorney gavels over his client&rsquo;s confession.
The stenographer smashes his keyboard, writing a perfect record.
Witness puts his hand on a bible and swears to call his gavel &ldquo;God&rsquo;s Mallet.&rdquo;&nbsp;
The judge has the biggest gavel and says &ldquo;ORDER!&rdquo; Then she smashes her chair.
The judge fixes her chair with a normal hammer while she smiles at a picture of a gavel.
New bailiff grabs a gavel and shatters the glass on the Emergency gavel box.
Smaller judges from the crowd swarm in to grab a free gavel.
Old bailiff catches New bailiff&rsquo;s eye and nods. He&rsquo;s done well.
He looks down at his gavel, the one Old bailiff gifted him as a boy.&nbsp;
Memories flood back like water from the overhead sprinklers. Gavel-friction started a fire.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
He lifts his eyes back to Old bailiff, wanting to thank him. But he was&mdash;gone.
New bailiff weeps. But only because the smashing made the air 80% splinters and also he&rsquo;s sad.

– First day, huh. Nervous? I know I was.
– No. I have everything set up. I prepared the Judge’s pap...

Two Bailiffs Talk Before Court Starts

<ul>
<li>&hellip;and now that I&rsquo;ve got you, I&rsquo;ll be your judge, jury, and executioner.</li>
<li>Wait, so I&rsquo;ll still get a trial?</li>
<li>Of course. And I&rsquo;ll be your attorney. So, what&rsquo;s being arrested like? I&rsquo;m also the court reporter.</li>
<li>It&rsquo;s a little confusing.</li>
<li>Back off! No questioning my client. Let&rsquo;s talk shop. Did you do it?</li>
<li>Are you my lawyer right now? Or the judge?</li>
<li>Ahh! You caught me! Okay, now I&rsquo;m your lawyer.</li>
<li>Okay. How am I getting off?</li>
<li>First, you weren&rsquo;t read your Miranda rights by that moron waste-of-life cop.</li>
<li>Which was you.</li>
<li>Plus, you can call a mistrial because the judge and your lawyer have been drinking.</li>
<li>I think I&rsquo;m going to leave.</li>
<li>Shh. We need to be quiet. The bailiff is about to speak. All rise for honorable Judge Murray. Let me tell you right now, Judge. That man is guilty. I object, your honor. He has no evidence. Oh shut up Jack, we both know he&rsquo;s headed to the clink. He&rsquo;ll go to jail over my dead body you son of a bitch!</li>
</ul>


…and now that I’ve got you, I’ll be your judge, jury, and executioner.
Wait, so I’ll still get a ...

Judge, Jury, and Executioner

Some people have a fairy godmother. Klugg is my swamp monster god-uncle.
Klugg can&rsquo;t fly like other fairies but he claims to be fifty percent crawdad. I think that&rsquo;s a lie &mdash; he looks more like eighty.
When I wished for a fairy on my ninth birthday I got Klugg: The Bayou Swamp King. He climbed out a dumpster behind Mama&rsquo;s favorite Red Lobster and followed me home, running. He spent the first month asking whether I could make his room (my closet) any more dark and damp. He spent the second month asking if his room (my room) could be Big Pig Central.
Jambalaya, fan boats, molting parties, voodoo teeth, spicy, Mardi Gras Katrina BBQ, and Klugg. Each of them in my backyard. &ldquo;Hey, baby boo. That a sweet mump mump.&rdquo; &mdash; Klugg
Klugg&rsquo;s always granting me wishes for mud tubs I don&rsquo;t want. He gets all happy and wooshy when I say he can use it cause it&rsquo;s the one thing that helps his &ldquo;Gumbo Skin.&rdquo; Gumbo Skin happens when your shrimps eat too many taters off your tummy. It&rsquo;s not contagious, so Klugg lets me touch.
Klugg&rsquo;s swamp buds are Guzer, Rub Rub, Ying Bing, and Rooff, and Hetler. Those old boys know how to chug bead buckets. Klugg&rsquo;s best at it cause when he chugs beads it&rsquo;s like &ldquo;Oh mama, Klugg chug like goose milk yum.&rdquo;
And one day, just as grungle as he appeared, Klugg was gone. I miss him sometimes. He left all his stuff &mdash; Skum Scoop, swamp bud Hetler, Bone Rug, The Unsolvable Rat Tail Knot, Oyster pie, Bird Sex: the film, nice frogs, Gumbo Skin and all.

Some people have a fairy godmother. Klugg is my swamp monster god-uncle.
Klugg can’t fly like other...

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Tucker Flodman