Spectators filled every seat in the courtroom, and the Judge slowly turned pages in the defendent's file. The defendent, a middle-aged woman with wheat-colored hair and wearing a short-sleeved gray blouse and blue slacks jumped up, knocking her chair over backwards.
"Officer, restrain the defendent!" the Judge called out.
The defendent, wearing black patent-lethered shoes with three-inch stiletto heels, snatched the shoe from her right foot, drew it back, as if preparing to throw a fast ball, and yelled, "Don't you come near me -- I plead guilty with an explanation, Your Honor . . ."
The officer, a tall, muscular crew-cut blond, looked at the Judge who waved him off. "Let's hear it," the Judge said.
"Your Honor, I used that word that I'm accused of, but -- God is my witness -- those people, themselves, young and old, use it loud all over the place. On buses, in the streets, schools, stores, and nobody says anything to them about it. But let a white person say it and they start screaming and hollering. Some of these rappers have been saying it world-wide in their kindergarten-rhymes for decades, but nobody has brought a lawsuit against them. And do we dare say that there are no racial pejoratives used against whites or people of other races or ethnic groups? Your Honor, down South we don't 'hem and haw' -- we bring it straight up, 'it is what it is.' Like most Americans I'm out every day trying to make an honest living, so you can believe me when I say that I'm not a racist, but I do despise self-righteous race-hustlers, and . . ."
"Case dismissed!" the Judge thundered, and the spectators roared, clapping and cheering.
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