“Your honor, the defendant stands accused before the court
Of crimes quite reprehensible. The list is none too short.
Three counts of grand theft auto with a rusty old machete,
Two counts of public lewdness with a plate of cold spaghetti,
Obstructing heavy traffic wearing only a fedora,
Conducting a Bar Mitzvah with a giant gummi Torah,
Misspelling girlfriends’ names on half a dozen big tattoos,
Removing final chapters from a shelf of Nancy Drews,
Kidnapping a koala from a wildlife sanctuary,
Assaulting strangers dressed up as the ‘Random Beat-Down Fairy,’
Providing pure ghost pepper juice to quench his grandma’s thirst,
And thirty-seven separate counts of murder in the first.
Your honor, he must answer for each horrible offense.”
“Agreed. Now do you have a thing to say in your defense?”
The little man inhaled and eyed the jury on their stools,
And then he offered his defense: “Your honor . . . APRIL FOOLS!”