i could be a barrister...

*wait a minute your honour while i punch this mofo into chatgpt*

JUDGE ITO:
Let the record show we are now entering… Glove Hour.

CLARK (prosecution):
Your Honor, the prosecution would now like Mr. Simpson to try on the gloves found at the crime scene and his residence. They are a key piece of evidence.

COCHRAN (defense, smirking):
And let the record also show that they are 100% not going to fit, and I am thrilled about it.

JUDGE ITO:
Mr. Cochran, no preemptive rhyming in my courtroom.

COCHRAN:
I’m just warming up, Your Honor.

CLARK (glaring):
Let’s proceed.

[Bailiff Carl brings out the gloves on a velvet pillow like it’s the effing crown jewels.]

CARL:
Here’s your murder gloves, folks.

CLARK:
Mr. Simpson, please try them on.

[O.J. stands, approaches the evidence table. Picks up the gloves. Attempts to put them on. Tugs. Grimaces. Wriggles fingers like he’s trying to snap in mittens.]

O.J.:
Uh… yeah, they don’t… they don’t really fit. Kinda tight. Like, “I wore these in 1989 but I’ve bulked up since then” tight.

COCHRAN (pouncing):
Your Honor! Members of the jury! Observe! This man’s hands—large, glorious, Heisman-holding hands—cannot, will not, be crammed into those tiny, accusatory leather sausages!

CLARK (exasperated):
They’re leather gloves! Leather shrinks!

COCHRAN:
So do lies, Marcia.

JUDGE ITO:
Mr. Cochran, please stop finger-pointing with the glove.

COCHRAN:
I’m just saying, Your Honor: if the gloves don’t go on, the guilt is gone!

JUDGE ITO:
That’s not even close to legal reasoning.

COCHRAN:
But it rhymes. And in America, that’s half the battle.

CLARK:
Objection. To literally everything that just happened.

JUDGE ITO:
Sustained. Mr. Cochran, I’m warning you. No more glove poetry.

COCHRAN (ignoring completely):
If the leather’s too tight, he ain't the one who did the fight.
If the fingers don’t slide, he can't be on the homicide.
If it’s not a fit, you must acquit.

[Jury starts nodding like they’re at a moth poetry slam. Bailiff Carl snaps once.]

CLARK:
This isn’t Def Jam. This is a double homicide trial.

COCHRAN:
And I rest my rhymes—I mean, my case.

JUDGE ITO:
God help us all. Let’s adjourn until I’ve had a very strong drink.

tHE eNd

Posted By: Tombs on September 23rd 2025 at 21:13:45


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