The Dodymesiter and Branson Legal meet Lady Justice

The Ole Seagull had a dream in which he was asked to leave the Taney County courtroom where the infamous “Olson Chainsaw Gang” was in the process of being prosecuted by the city of Branson for allegedly sawing a tree down in front of their business over two years ago. A huge 12 foot specter of Paul Link, the city attorney for Branson, loomed over the Ole Seagull in the courtroom. With a big grin on its face the specter said, “Question the authority of the Dodymeister and the letters I write will you, you’re out of here because we are going to reserve the right to call you as a witness.”

As the dream continued, the Ole Seagull asked, “How can you do that, I wasn’t subpoenaed, I’m not on any witness lists, and I’m missing my nap so that I can observe and report, first hand what is going on.” Link just smiled, snapped his fingers and what looked like three foot munchkin replications of Branson’s board of aldermen, lead by a shinny red faced munchkin wearing a mayor pro tem button, came running out from under the city of Branson’s prosecution table. They ran up to me and without any further ado pulled me from the court room all the time saying, “Speak out against the Dodymeister and question the letter writing of our city attorney, bad Seagull, bad Seagull, no courtroom for you today.”

As the munchkins threw the Ole Seagull out the door the mayor pro tem munchkin said, “You don’t get it do you Seagull, just like Monday night, we, and the Dodymeister, can do whatever we want, anyway we want, to whomever we want, and whenever we want.” As the Ole Seagull lay withering on the floor he said, “Forgive me, I’ll kiss the ring, please just this once do the fair and right thing and let me back in.” There was simultaneous laughter as they slammed the court room door.

In dream time, about an hour and a half later, the courtroom doors burst open and someone came out and said, “It’s over; they have been acquitted because the city couldn’t even establish corpus delecti.” Even in a dream, to an Ole Seagull, that’s the Armani, Gucci, and Prada way of saying that the city could not even prove that a crime had been committed. All in the hallway were abuzz that the defendants had been acquitted without even having to present their case and were asking the rhetorical question, “How embarrassing to the city is that?”

All of a sudden, as the doors to the courtroom slowly opened and a 12 foot Lady Justice walked through the doors, a hush fell over the crowd. Tears were streaming from under her blindfold as she dragged a three foot munchkin replica of the Dodymesiter through the doors as it repeatedly yelled, “I’m Teflon, nothing sticks to me, and I was hidden. How did you know I was in there?”

Without a word and with a gentle heave she tossed the Dodymeister into the air, as one would do when they were about to hit a ball with a bat. She drew her sword back and, with a mighty full swing, hit the Dodymeister right out of the courthouse with so much force that the general consensus of opinion is that his next public appearance will be as a fireball coming out of one of the tubes in a performance of the fire and light show at Branson Landing.

Next she turned to the 12 foot specter of Paul Link. Everyone present could feel her eyes just staring into his from behind her blindfold and could sense the question she was silently asking of Link, “What does the way the city of Branson has handled this case over the last two years have to do with ‘the fair and equal administration of the law, without corruption, avarice, prejudice, or favor’ that I symbolize?”

As Link blurted out the words, “Very little but the Dodymeister wanted it this way,” he shrunk in size down to about six feet, towering above the three foot munchkin replications of Branson’s board of aldermen who came through the door next looking lost and confused. For the first time Lady Justice spoke as she patted each little munchkin on its head and, pointing to Link said, “Don’t fret little ones, just follow him back to Branson, and play your little games by your own rules in your own little sandbox. Just remember that when you come into my house justice rules!”

With that she looked over at Don Stephens, the director of planning and development for the City of Branson, the city forester, and the detective, all who had testified for the city of Branson, shook her head sadly, turned, and started back into the court room. As she passed the Ole Seagull and entered the courtroom she lifted her blindfold, looked him in the eye, winked, and said, “The city couldn’t pull a rabbit out of the hat after all.”

Wow, what a dream.