I fought the law and...Well, read the rest or spoilers.

The court room was packed. Judge Judy Hartnett of the US supreme court stood in her chambers, idly looking through the motions put before her. Another motion of continuance from Bradley Whittington-Smithurst citing that his client is too traumatised from his recent incarceration, and that his client has a massively important match he has to get ready for. She sighed, then picked up her phone on the inappropriately massive desk that you tend to have when you're one of the main people in the world of legal decision making. She pressed a button.



“Marcus,” She said to the person on the other end “Can you summon the lawyers for the Jenson case?” There was a pause “I'm aware he's put in a continuance, but I'm fed up of these excuses now, this case has to continue.” Another pause. “Who is Jericho Salazar?” She said testily, continuing with “You know what, never mind. Just bring them in.”



She sighed as she hung up the phone. This case was a royal pain in the ass to her. Since it was lodged there had been at least 40 continuance requests, 23 requests to throw the case out, 3 different illness claims and at one point a herd of wilderbeasts roaming the court room. She had a sneaking suspicion that the lawyers didn't really want to hear the case, considering one of them represents the City of Chicago and the other represents one of the richest guys in the world. Bet they're on the fucking golf course, she thought to herself as she sipped her coffee, Brazilian, fairtrade of course.



There was a knock on the door. Marcus came through with a Fedex package.



“This came through for you,” He said.



“Thank you Marcus,” The judge smiled, surveying Marcus standing in front of him. He wasn't unattractive, if she wanted she could probably tap him at any point. However, she didn't get to the bench with a reputation as an unflappable character with an outstanding moral fibre by banging her secretary. No, she got to the bench by taking down the bad guys, by making sure that she was whiter than white and making sure that people knew she was the heroine they deserve. She had done enough “cleansing” to ensure this was the case. No one had anything on her, she made sure of it.



This is why she was so shocked to see the photos in the Fedex package. How the fuck had they found them? Every single copy was shredded, the negatives burned and the camera was destroyed. Did she miss a set? How could she miss a set? She cursed as she saw them, then looked at the note with it.



'Do what you need to do and these pictures don't see the public. DS.'



She blanched, her face drained of all colour. How could he have these pictures? What was she going to do? For a fleeting moment, she thought of reporting this and declaring a mistrial, but that'd end her career. She thought of where she went wrong, which mistake she may have made, who had a copy of the pictures that she didn't know about? She cursed herself for her stupidity, wondering just how she can get out of this one. She was brought out of her reverie by a knock on the door. She quickly put the pictures back in the envelope and put them in the desk drawer. Marcus came in, flanked by two slick, $2000 suited leeches that perform legal extortion for a living. They both give cursory glances at each other then, in a sickening display of smarmy snake oil salesman smiling they fall over each other to greet the her.



She wasn't impressed with this grandstanding, she merely looked at them both and, without preamble began.



“So the case begins this afternoon.”



Immediately she was interrupted by Bradley Whittington-Smithurst.



“We are not ready your honour, we...”



She stopped him by putting her hand up, and with a tone of voice that universally means I'm finished with your shit said “You have had more than enough time sir. You have attempted to derail this case long enough. You've earned your money. I daresay you can now buy a jet with it. The case begins today. No extensions, no stopping. If you are not ready, then I'm afraid that's your problem.”



In truth he was ready, everyone knew he was ready. His jig was up – it's time to do is job. He realised this pretty swiftly and, making a swift bit of mental arithmetic knew that he could indeed, afford to buy his jet now. Albeit a lower end model, unless he won the case and then charged extra for a winning fee. Yes, that's exactly what he'd do. A winning fee gives him a full flight crew and minibar. He smiled to himself in anticipation and agreed, quite smartly that the judge was right and he was ready after all.



So calls were made to his bevvy of assistants at HQ and they set about, like busy ants setting up the juggernaut that was a legal trial. Witnesses were called, documents were checked and rechecked, backed up, triplicated and forensically examined to guarantee their maximum impact. It, my friends, was on.



AJ got the call while he was playing basketball against his good friend, and occasional party member James Harden. It was a particularly hard fought and tight game, James Harden was up by 32 points to 0 and AJ was laboriously attempting to spin move him, before Harden just whacked the ball from his hand and hit it for another basket.



“You need to be less obvious, man” Said Harden, his majestic beard glistening with sweat. “I can literally tell exactly what you're going to do by how you set yourself up.”



“Oh really?” Replied AJ, who was at this point trying to double fake and miserably failing. “Just like when you tried to take me out with that sweep in our last duel and I took your head off your silly little face?” He sounded rather put out as you heard another thwack and the ball going bouncing away.



“We both know the mace isn't my weapon. You shouldn't be facing me with a mace. A longsword, that's a different story man.” He hit another 3 pointer while AJ's phone rang. AJ called time and went to answer.



After a few seconds he suddenly shouted out to James Harden. “I gotta go, need to get to the case. If you wanna hang, Amy is sticking around and Ser Slashalot is somewhere with Ashbury. Maybe you guys can come up with a plan on how to win the grand Melee when it returns. With that, he practically sprinted to the helipad, to his chopper. The pilot was already there, waiting for him for some reason. AJ mused at this, thinking that he had only just heard himself and hadn't managed to tell anyone yet, but the pilot was ready. Does the guy just sit there, waiting for AJ to run towards him and then switch on or something? If so, that's weird as fuck.



Either way, 30 minutes later, AJ was at the court and James Harden was in the Jacuzzi trying it on with Amy.



Judge Hartnett called the proceedings open, looking at the smarmy lawyers, the stupidly rich wrestler and various other people in the gallery, she couldn't help but notice a number of them looked like they just turned up from the set of Lord of the Rings or something. She half thought of throwing them out, but you never know what freaks like that are capable of. She was thinking of how things were going, about the message from DS and the photographs. She called the opening statements and zoned out. Not listening to the boring lawyers going on about their shit. She was snapped back into the room by the wrestler suddenly shouting.



“OBJEECTTTTTIONNNNNNNNN” He shouted it just like Phoenix Wright, ace attorney. In fact – somewhere along the line, AJ managed to change his hair to the same style as Phoenix Wright and was wearing a rather snazzy suit.



“On what grounds?” Said the judge, rather sleepily, Bradley Whittington-Smithurst looked at AJ incredulously. AJ to his credit looked rather sheepish.



“On the grounds the whole law is untenable, unfair and rather pointless.” He said.



“Well, that's why we're here” admonished the judge, “to determine whether or not the law stands.”



“OH!” AJ exclaimed before gesturing. “Carry on.”



More waffling from the lawyers, Judge Hartnett started to fade out again, wondering what her career would be like if the photos were released, wondering whether or not she'd be able to stay on or whether she'd have to retire and go into something as stupid as local politics. Damn this DS damn him seven ways to hell she mused.. She was brought back to the room by a rather pointless argument about the word may in one of the laws. Eventually she had enough and called for a recess.



“Mr Jenson,” she said, “please come with me.”



The courts suddenly sounded like a beehive, with all the buzzing of so many people whispering to each other, this sort of thing is just weird, people don't do this normally. This was odd, the judge merely shook her head and motioned for AJ to follow. AJ did so, hopping over the bar and following her to her chambers. When they got to her chambers, the judge sat down, motioning for AJ to sit on a chair. She took out a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers, offering AJ the second.



“Mr Jenson, I'm sorry for the most unusual request, but I've had the most unusual morning.” She downed her whiskey and, after thinking about it for a few seconds took the Fedex package from her drawer and passed it to AJ. AJ was puzzled when he took it from her, even more puzzled when he opened them.



“What's this?” He asked.



“My youth,” she said in a half smirk.



“You were a paladin?” Andre asked. “I mean, that's embarrassing enough, but this cosplay, well it's ridiculous. You really based yourself off of that?”



She shrugged. “What can I say? I genuinely thought no one would know about it, I destroyed every camera and every photo that I had of this, apparently I missed one and your friendly mayor of Chicago found it.”



“You're ashamed of this?” AJ asked. “Why?”



She scoffed, “I'm a judge. Do you think a judge can be taken seriously when she's also Esme, Paladin Warrior of light? Simply put, I had to put my career first. This sort of thing tends to be blown out of all proportion in my field of work. If this gets out, I'm finished.” She looked at AJ



“So, I'm going to make a deal with you.” She began, considering her words as she spoke. “You're fighting someone on Sunday, right?”



“I am,” he confirmed.



“You're at your best when you're happy.” She mused. “What makes you happy is what made me happy back in my youth, we need to take that David Sanchez down. How about I allow you to LARP again, right now, if you promise to find those pictures and destroy them for me? I trust you, I trust you as a warrior and of the king of Kem. I know your word is like oak.”



“But I'm not facing Sanchez this week.” AJ replied.



“No, I know, you're facing Jericho someone or another, who knows? Who cares really? The guy swears a lot and tends to think he is edgy and cool or whatnot. Either way he seems like a bit of a dick. You'll have no problem with him if you roll those dice and roll them well.”



“He is an admirable opponent...”AJ began.



“No, he's an ass, who literally is a copy of Jay from Jay and silent Bob if he was crossed with the angry yells of a thousand teenagers who slam doors in the faces of their parents. He's an idiot and you know it.” She leaned forward. “Besides, I have a secret weapon.” She pulled out a little box from her drawer and conspiratorially gives it to AJ. “Open it.”



AJ opened it, there was a gold covered D20 in there.



“It's a D20.” He said, rather obviously.



“Not just any D20,” she smirked. “Look at the faces.” AJ looked at the faces, rolling the die in his hand to check them all out. His eyes went wide. “2 20s?” He exclaimed. “I've heard rumours of such a powerful artifact, but I've never seen one.” He was awestruck. She chuckled.



“Yes, it has been in my possession for years, waiting to be given to the person I deem worthy.” She looked at him meaningfully. “You're worthy. Go out there and do your thing, beat Jericho whatever the guys name is and find those photographs for me. As my king and my Lord, this quest I give to you.”


She nodded her head in deference as AJ took the die in his hand and thrust it into the air, slowly as if holding an artifact of great power.



“I shall do what I can.” AJ smiled. “But first, I will need to summon a few friends. ONWARD TO VICTORY!” He shouted.



The recess was complete. The judge and AJ came back into the courtroom. Less than 2 minutes later the crowd was cheering as the judge decreed the ban on LARPing to be over and that AJ, as the King of Kem and ACTUAL world champion of Kem and the World was to usher a new golden age of LARPING.



AJ got to his feet in the courtroom and looked over everyone in attendance.



“As the ACTUAL world champion and the King of Kem, my first decree shall be a simple one. Find The other half of this belt, when the belt is reunited and rejoined, the world of LARPing can be healed. I can then use the residual power of the belt to challenge David Sanchez and beat him in hand to hand combat and retrieve the sacred scrolls of Esme the Just. This is our quest and one we shall not fail. WE SHALL OVERCOME, WE SHALL NOT FALTER, WE WILL BEAT THE EVIL FORCES OF THIS LAND AND SHALL HEAL THIS WORLD!”



A voice came up from the crowd.



“How about just trying a simple accio charm?”



The silence was deafening, 80 people simultaneously looking at the man who said it incredulously.



“What?” He asked.



“It won't work,” replied AJ.



“It's easy, you just flick your wand and say ACCIO BELT” and it'll come to you.



“No it won't,” someone laughed in the background.


“It will too!” The guy protested.



“Try it then!” Challenged someone else.



“Fine!” The man walked over to AJ and passed him his wand. “It only works when you do it, it's your property.”



AJ took the wand from him, with a frown. He pointed it to no particular place and flicked it, bellowing “ACCIO LEFT HALF OF THE ACTUAL WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP OF KEM”



Nothing happened, no belt arrived. They waited for half an hour to make sure, then another 20 minutes to make doubly sure. Eventually everyone looked at the guy.



“Well, that's 50 minutes of my day wasted, thanks Kevin.”



“Yeah, Cheers Kev!”



Kevin mumbled something inaudible about Jenson being a squib which was missed as AJ laughed. “It was worth a gamble, come – let us drink and be merry!” He commanded.



There was a hearty cheer, as everyone filed out of the courtroom to drink and be merry.





Somewhere else, far away, Kyle Cameron was watching the left half of the belt. The half that he'd just been wrestling for 20 minutes to make sure the damn thing didn't fly off. It took a lot of threats, swearing and fighting to stop it from trying to make its way through the window but eventually it was subdued.



“The fuck was that?” He asked himself.