It began with a large officer of the court wearing his dark lensed Ray Bans announcing that the judge was ready to lay the beat down. The audience, which I assume were left overs from the Jerry Springer Show, then went wild, until the white judge, dressed in jeans and running shoes, came to his seat, after screaming “WHOOOO, WHOOOO.” He then introduced the Plaintiff and Defendant, who had signs indicating that they were the Plaintiff and Defendant, just in case the judge, fully equipped with his High School degree, forgot. The plaintiff and defendant then screamed at each other for 10 minutes, while the judged laughed, stalling for time in an attempt to sober up. While this show sounds like just another piece of trash, it had one special redeeming feature that transcended it from it’s genre. Instead of a gavel the judge had a baseball bat with the word “Justice” transcribed onto the side of it. I quickly changed the channel when I realized that Maury was starting, but I can only assume that the judge beat the loser to or at least close to death.
It was then that the genius struck me. How much easier would life be, if you had your very own Baseball Bat of Justice? Just imagine, you’re sitting at a red light, waiting for the light to turn green so you can floor it and embarrass the smart-ass beside you, who had the audacity to casually glance your way, when out of nowhere some homeless man offers to clean your window. “No,” you say, “that’s okay, please don’t,” but it’s too late. His dirty rag is on your windshield making little circles, dirtying up your already clean piece of plexi-glass, and on top of that, this asshole is expecting a tip. Well you’ve got a tip for him, you reach into the backseat and pull out your ‘Little Slugger’ baseball bat of justice. POW! One shot right to the side of the head. Judge, jury, and executioner all rolled up into one little piece of wood. You climb back into your car and slam it back into drive. You don’t put on your seatbelt because seatbelts are for pussies, and as soon as that light changes you SLAM that pedal to the metal, and pull out of there. That is, at least, until the next red light.Or you could get a friend to share in the fun. You’re standing in line at McDonalds, and you finally make it to the front. “Can I have an Egg McMuffin?” You politely inquire. “I’m sorry, we stop serving breakfast at 10.” Moment of silence and reflection as your gaze moves from the 44 year old Philipino behind the counter, up to the clock which displays the time of ‘3:46,’ and then across to your friend, who stares back at you knowingly. “Say Chad,” I of course am assuming your friends name is Chad, and even if its not, the McDonald’s clerk doesn’t know that, so you might as well pretend his/her name is Chad, because that’s an awesome name. “Say Chad,” you calmly ask, “how do you find?” Smirk on “Chads” face he instinctively replies, “Your honor, I find the defendant, guilty on counts of being a bitch.” And before Ms. Ng knows what just transpired she’s unconscious on the floor, with her blood dripping down the side of your handy Baseball Bat of Justice.
This thing can be used pretty much anywhere. Children misbehaving? One whack should set ‘em straight. Wife/Mom overcook the turkey? WHAM!! Quick swing to the side of the face should teach’er her lesson. Police officer pull you over for speeding? CRACK! Right to the cranium, and floor it. A good ol’ fashioned baseball bat of justice is both fun and practical. Nothing says I love you like a wooden piece of wood across the face. SMASH!!! “Happy Anniversary Honey, now pick up your teeth and bake me a cake!”
They’d be easy to get too. You walk up to the cash register holding a Baseball Bat of Justice, nobody is stupid enough to ask for some money. That’s the first thing they’d teach you in training. If anybody asks you to pay for your BBOJ then you give them a quick shot to the side of the head. Nobody fucks with you when you’ve got a Baseball Bat of Justice. “Enjoy your complimentary Bat sir, have a wonderful day,” the cashier will say, and BAM you give him a warning pop to the temple just because you fucking can.
In my world the police system is more efficient. No more paper work, and organizing criminal records, it’s not necessary. First of all, with the availability of these bats, everybody’s a criminal, second of all, police Baseball Bat[on]s of Justice will have the word ‘Justice’ elevated, so when they pop you in the forehead, it’s imprinted and the world knows that you’re a criminal. Thieves and crooks have to wear this “JUSTICE” mark of shame for the world to see. The general public will be safer, we’ll know who’s a criminal, and we’ll have the opportunity to preemptively defend ourselves by beating these people with our Baseball Bats of Justice. The system is flawless. Bulletproof.
Come to think of it, there are some people I know that need to be taught a lesson or two. I’m going to prepare myself for this new wave of the future, and get the ball rolling. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a baseball bat and some paint to go buy.
