jerry judge

Judge Jerry was a bad idea from the start.

During the taping of the pilot, Parish the bailiff hit three or four people for no reason at all. In his defense, he was near-mad with boredom after fourteen hours of waiting for Bear’s upgrades to the TV studio’s equipment to start working. Bear was going beyond stereo, quadrophonic, or surround sound: he had come up with DodecaHydroSpheric Sound! unfortunately, getting the full effect of the audio required getting really high and sticking your head up Buckminster Fuller’s ass, and this was going to be an afternoon show.

By lunchtime, the project was $340,000 over budget and four months behind schedule.

There had been no fires, though: electricians are very good at keeping buildings from burning down. It is almost their number one function, ahead of a steady supply of power–the lights working 99% of the time is fine, but building has to not burn down every time. So, try as he might–with the smoking and the nodding and the constant, almost magical, replenishing supply of mattresses, ratty couches, telephone books, newspapers, oily rags, and young Drew Barrymores–this place had been throughly Garcia-proofed.

Afternoon judge shows tend to be pithy and quick-moving, and when Garcia launched into another riff about how the word “ambidexter” doesn’t mean someone who’s good with both hands, but that it means that someone is as good with both hand as with his right hand. The right hand is dexter, the left hand is sinister. Hence, the term for a klutz: ambisinister.  And, you know…that goes into the right-hand vs. left-hand paths in most mystery religions…

“Mr. Garcia? We just need you to say, ‘What’s the first case, Parish?’ Still haven’t gotten this first shot.”

It was at this moment that a large crane, the one with the seat and the camera attached to the end, came crashing through the wall because Billy disengaged the parking brake when no one was looking because Billy thought it was funny and Billy thought that because Billy was awful, simply awful.