celebrity wrongdoings, missing white teens, politicians' adultery.
Her "bailiff" was named Waco. He was a retired stand-up comic. Yes, for real. This was a TV set, not a courtroom, though it looked like one. While not exactly a trial, Hester did preside over a legal proceeding of a certain kind. The two parties sign a contract for arbitration. The producers pay the settlement, and both the plaintiff and the defendant are paid a hundred dollars a day. It's win-win.
Reality shows have a bad rap and deserve them, but what most ably demonstrated, especially the ones involving either courtship or courts, was that this remains a man's world. Take the defendant, Reginald Pepe. Please. Big Reg, as he liked to be called, had allegedly borrowed two grand from the defendant, Miley Badonis, his girlfriend at the time. Big Reg claimed it was a gift, telling the court, "Chicks like to give me stuff--what can I say?" Big Reg was fifty years old, weighed a paunchy two-fifty, and wore a mesh shirt that gave his chest hairs enough room to curl through. He wasn't wearing a bra but should have been. His hair was gelled into a spike that made him look like the latest anime cartoon villain, and there were gold chains around his neck, dozens of them. Big Reg's wide face, emphasized by the sad fact that Hester's show now filmed in high def, contained enough craters to make one search for a lunar rover on his right cheek.
Miley Badonis, the plaintiff, was at least two decades younger, and while nobody would be speed-dialing the Elite modeling agency upon gazing at her, she was, well, fine. But she had been so anxious to get a man, any man, that she gave Big Reg money with nary a question.
Big Reg was twice divorced, separated from his third wife, and had two other women with him today. Both women wore navel-revealing tube tops, and neither had the figure for it. The tube tops appeared so tight they squeezed all flesh south, giving both women a gourdlike shape.
"You." Hester pointed at the tube top on the right.
"Me?"
Somehow, despite the word being one syllable, she had managed to crack gum mid-word.
"Yes. Step forward. What are you doing here?"
"Huh?"
"Why are you here with Mr. Pepe?"
"Huh?"
Waco, her hilarious bailiff, started singing, "If I only had a brain . . ." from The Wizard of Oz . Hester shot him a look. "Timely reference, Waco."
Waco went silent.
The tube top on the left stepped forward. "If it pleases the court, Your Honor, we're here as friends of Big Reg."
Hester glanced at Big Reg. "Friends?"
Big Reg arched an eyebrow as if to say, Right, sure, friends.
Hester leaned forward. "I'm going to give both of you ladies some advice. If this man here works hard to educate and better himself, he may one day rise to the level of total loser."
Big Reg said, "Hey, Judge!"
"Quiet, Mr. Pepe." She kept her eyes on both girls. "I don't know what your deal is, ladies, but this I do know: This isn't the way to get revenge on Daddy. Do you two know what a skank is?"
Both girls looked confused.
"Let me help you," Hester said. "You two are skanks."
Miley Badonis shouted, "Tell them, Judge!"
Hester cut her eyes toward the voice. "Ms. Badonis, do you know anything about throwing stones and glass houses?"
"Uh, no."
"Then shut up and listen." Hester turned back to the tube tops. "Do you two know the definition of a skank?"
"It's like a slut," the tube top on the left said.
"Yes. And no. A slut is a promiscuous girl. A skank, which in my mind is far worse, is any girl who would touch a man like Reginald Pepe. In short, Ms. Badonis is proudly on her way to not being a skank. Both of you have the same opportunity. I'm begging you to take it."
They wouldn't. Hester had seen it all before. She turned to the defendant.
"Mr. Pepe?"
"Yeah, Judge?"
"I would tell you what my grandmother used to say to me: You can't ride two horses with one behind--"
"You can if you do it right, Judge, heh heh heh."
Oh, man.
"I would tell you," Hester
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