“It was a mistake,” I pleaded. “Please. You don’t have to do this.”
My arms and legs were strapped to the chair. I couldn’t move. The bailiff brought out the syringe, took off the cap and inserted it in the IV line they had going into my forearm. I flinched as he pushed the plunger in, shooting the serum into my veins.
How fast would this stuff work?
“Please, it was just a mistake!” I said, shaking.
After a few minutes, my chair became super comfortable. Almost comfortable enough to take a nap right there in the middle of the courtroom. The judge smiled down at me. I thought she could tell how great this chair was, and that made me less nervous.
“What happened as you entered the residence?”
This again?
“I told you it was a mistake, can we move on?”
“What happened as you entered the residence?” the judge repeated.
“I found all sorts of treasure.”
Why would you say that?
“Elaborate,” she ordered.
“Jewelry, drugs, alcohol, you know,” I smiled.
Stop. Don’t say anything else.
“Elaborate,” she ordered.
“Ipad, laptops, and other small electronics I could carry off with,” I continued.
Shit.
“And when the homeowners came home?”
Don’t.
“We had a little talk.”
Smooth.
“Elaborate,” the judge said.
“I tied them up with zip-ties. They were kind enough to give me their safe combination.”
“Elaborate.”
“I beat the husband until his wife gave me the combo,” I said. “It was a mistake, though.”
Oh no.
The Dae Dreamer 