I'm supposed to write two essays by Monday Afternoon... so, being the logical person that I am, I wrote two-thirds of one, said that's enough for tonight, and then spent two hours writing a 2,000-word long AA oneshot instead. I'll note up front that this first short story, titled "Insanity", is probably riddled with missing words (at this time of night, I'll think words and not write them) and other silly errors -- I'm not a good writer after 1 AM, after all. Still, my ego can always use a bit more stroking, and a collection of one-shots and shorts like this first one should allow more readers to view my work without being forced to withstand the behemoth that is the Golden Gavel. (Of course, I'm hoping that success here leads to crossover appeal as well... ) Thus, I give you the first of what I hope will be many one-shots and short stories to crawl from my twisted brain in the months and years to come... "Insanity"!

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“An... insanity plea, Mr. Hammond?” To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. “Are you sure about this?”

My defense attorney’s dark eyes bored into my own; it was obvious that he was displeased by my reluctance. “Of course I am sure about this!” he snapped, his large nostrils snorting with the force of his anger. “I would not dare consider the idea if it didn’t have any merit!”

Though I’d witnessed Mr. Hammond’s outrage on several occasions before that dismal afternoon, I winced and cowered all the same. “I-I was not s-suggesting that your idea had no merit,” I stammered. “It’s just... just that...”

“Just that what?!” snapped Hammond, his left hand clenching into a tight fist. “What possible reason would a disgusting fool such as you have to question my defense techniques?!”

I winced again, and began to fiddle with the heavy brim of my Bailiff’s cap. “I... I am your c-client, aren’t I, Mr. Hammond?” When Hammond remained stonily silent, I added, “Shouldn’t it be my right to have a say in the methods of my defense?”

Hammond merely tilted his head and glared at me, as if he could make me burn and melt away. “Indeed, you are my client,” he finally sneered. “However, I am your defense attorney, and thus, I retain the right to surrender you to the whims of the court if I can not provide you with any reasonable defense. Obviously, I will do all that I can to avoid a loss, but you must see that I hold the balance of power in this... partnership of ours.” He gave me a crooked smile... a crooked smile filled with distorted yellow teeth.

I pulled the brim of my hat below my eyes and sighed; no matter how much I disagreed with Mr. Hammond at any given moment, he always had that particular statement to hang over my head. But still... “Are you sure that this is the only way?”

Mr. Hammond’s eyes flashed, and his fist smashed into his open palm with the intensity of his anger. “Of course it’s the only way, you insufferable moron!” he shouted. “You know the twists and turns of this case almost as much as I do! There were three men in the elevator: The victim, his son, and you! The victim was killed with your gun! You have no memory of the event! And the police... the police were so desperate to lock you in here; they had the victim’s very spirit implicate you as the killer! Unless we go into that courtroom tomorrow and show the judge that you were too fucking insane to wield that gun, I am sunk and you are done for! Do you understand this?!”

Unable to look Mr. Hammond in the face any longer, I stared at my feet; screwed up my eyes so that the tears wouldn’t fall. “I... I understand, Mr. Hammond,” I whispered. “What do I have to do?”

Hammond let out a hearty cackle. “Now we have some progress!” he bellowed. Lowering his voice, he stated, “Your part is very simple to play, Mr. Yogi. In order to be insane, you must sound insane, act insane, and look insane. Are we clear about this?”

With a heavy sigh, I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Hammond.”

“Good. Now then... sounding insane. I’ve defended a few ‘insane’ clients before, so I have the methodology down to a science. Answer me this question, Mr. Yogi. What is my name?”

The question was so simply absurd, I jerked my head upward and stared him in the face. “Your name? It’s Robert Hammond, sir.”

“Wrong!” Hammond pointed a finger at me as his face screwed up in anger. “From now on, you are to call me ‘Cousin Richie’. The prosecutor, you will call ‘Father Bagman’. The judge, ‘Dr. Walrus’. If there are any other witnesses, give them silly names as well. Are we clear on this?”

To be completely honest, I wasn’t clear on that, but I knew better than to give Mr. Hammond the wrong answer, now that he was finally helping me. “Yes, sir... Mister, uh, Cousin Richie.”

Mr. Hammond rewarded me with another of his crooked smiles. “Very good, Mr. Yogi. Now then... that brings us to acting insane. Considering that you are a man of slim build, I suggest a slow, steady swaying from side to side to be an appropriate display of madness.” After a moment of heavy silence, he bellowed, “Get to it, Yogi!”

I jumped in surprise; I hadn’t realized that he needed a demonstration. Feeling somewhat silly, I started to rock my body to one side, and then the other, quickly settling into a uniform, back and forth motion. “Like this, Cousin Richie?”

Another nasty smile. “Very good, Mr. Yogi, very good. Don’t stop; keep at it until it becomes second nature to you. Now then, as far as acting insane is concerned, you might also want to slow your voice down... Time it with your sways; throw in some hems and haws and other stupid noises...”

As much I disliked this crazy routine, I had to admit that he had a point. “Uh... very a-well, Cousin Richie,” I stated, making sure to keep my voice slow and dull-sounding. “This is-a how I’ll talk in the court... ayup. Course, this is a-more like sounding insane than looking it, if-a you ask a-me...”

Instead of an immediate answer, Mr. Hammond merely buried his face in his palm. “That might be technically correct, Mr. Yogi...” he muttered darkly, “But that is too pointed a question for an insane man to ask. Try to keep your questions as irrelevant as possible unless you absolutely have to.”

I allowed myself a quiet sigh; this insanity business was harder than it looked. “Gotcha, Cousin Richie. I... I will try to not a-sound so smart on the stand... Ayup.”

“Very good,” muttered Mr. Hammond, again flashing that disturbing grin. “And that leads to the last part, that of looking insane. Luckily, this is the easiest set of adjustments to make out of the three.” He shifted in his chair; rested his chin against his hand in thought. “First things first... give me your hat.”

The suddenness of the demand was such that I nearly stopped my swaying routine. “My... My hat, Cousin Richie?” Absently, I touched a hand to the brim. “A-why would you need my hat, Cousin?”

Hammond chuckled darkly. “Just a minor adjustment, Mr. Yogi. After all, that hat gives you a sharp image... and ‘sharp’ is the last thing we’re going for right now.”

Yet again, I sighed... for years, my hat had been my pride and joy, the thing that identified me above all else. Still, if it was the only way to escape this hell... “Ayup, I’ll give it to you, Cousin Richie.” Slowly, I removed the hat from my head, gave the brim one last caress before placing it in the sliding box that allowed objects to be transferred from one side of the glass to the other. “Here you are...”

Mr. Hammond nodded with something vaguely resembling approval. “Very good, Mr. Yogi.” After removing my hat from the box and placing it on his lap, he reached into one of his pant pockets, pulled out a brown... something, threw it into the box, and pushed it to my side without a second thought. Curious, I reached inside and pulled out a very brown, very wrinkled... “Wool cap?”

“Indeed!” announced Hammond, again shooting me that nasty yellow smile. “I know it’ll be a bit of a change for you, ‘cousin’... but I assure you, there’s nothing that says crazy, washed-up has-been like a cheap wool cap. That’s a fact you can take to the bank. Now try it on!”

Startled by Mr. Hammond’s sudden yelling, I hastened to obey. The cap felt snug and uncomfortably warm against my skull... something I was going to have to get used to, I guess. “Is... Is this-a good, Cousin Richie?”

Another leering grin. “Yes, it is quite good,” he said simply. “Now then, one last adjustment; one last important adjustment, and we are done.”

I let out a sigh of relief; I thought I’d never get to the end of this... madness! “A-what do ya’ want me to do, Cousin Richie?” I asked, looking Mr. Hammond in the face.

“It’s simple. While your body movements scream ‘insanity’, your eyes do not. In order to make this plea work, I require you to stop focusing your eyes on anyone... effective immediately,” he said with a glare.” Once I’d stopped looking at his face and started staring at the wall above his head, he gave me a satisfied nod. “Very good, Mr. Yogi. As long as you maintain your performance—And I mean maintain, you can’t break character for a second—in front of the Judge this week, you will be declared innocent and allowed out of this miserable place in no time.” Gripping my old hat in one hand, he rose to his feet. “Any more... questions before I go?” he asked resignedly.

His resignation was almost understandable: He knew that when he asked a question like that I only had one thing in mind. Halting the insanity routine for a moment, I asked, “Can you let me see my darling Polly, Mr. Hammond? I haven’t gotten to speak for her longer than a minute ever since this nightmare started...”

Hammond frowned and shook his head. “I am... sorry, Mr. Yogi, but you and I both know that is impossible. She’s too big a risk to the security of this case... from this point on, you can not divulge your continuing sanity to anyone... least of all her. Do you understand that?”

I wanted to say no... How would Polly go on, believing that I’d gone insane? But... looking at the icy stare of Hammond’s eyes, I knew there was only one answer I could give. “Yes, sir, Mister, er... Cousin Richie,” I muttered. “You-a better let me drop this act when it’s-a all over, though.”

Hammond sighed. “The media will be watching your every move, Mr. Yogi... it’ll probably be months before you can hide long enough to act ‘normal’ again. This is the only way they’ll let you out, though... I’m sure that in the end your precious Polly will understand.” Again, he shook his head. “Good day to you, Mr. Yogi.” And with that, he opened the door and left the room.

As the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the tiny room, I heard a sudden snort – the security guard was pushing himself off the wall and rubbing at his eyes.

“Did I fall asleep, Mr. Yogi?” he asked, his voice still somewhat tired. “Sorry about that... some guard I am. Let me take you back to your cell.”

I almost gave the guard an astute nod before jerking my head upward and swaying my body from side to side instead. “Okay, uh... little Danny,” I drawled. “Just a-lead me back nice and slow now...”

The guard gave me an odd look; something I supposed I would have to get used to now. “Very... very well, Mr. Yogi.” He forced me to stop swaying long enough to cuff my arms behind my back, and then placed a hand on my shoulders and led me towards the door.

“Poor guy,” he muttered to himself, lowering his voice so that he didn’t think I could hear. “That elevator must have done more damage than I thought.”

“Ayup,” I replied, avoiding the nagging urge to wonder if this façade of insanity was truly going to be worth it in the end.

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A bit of a lame ending, but I am tired, after all. This was a missing moment that I finally felt ready enough to tackle; it explains the origins of Yanni Yogi's crazy act, and I managed to slip in one clever reference to GS4 as well. I'm too tired to go crazy in analyzing this thing (I didn't even look it over for decent grammar, after all) so I'll just let you decide how good two hours of me writing half-asleep can be.

(Once I fix all the stupid errors and let it get beta'd, I'll put this thing up on ff.net as well. But for now, I'll just put it here, because it's still rough and you were all special enough to read it anyway. Whoop!}

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Delicious fanfic is delicious.

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Mmmmmmmmmm. It is. If you hadn't mentioned that there was something else in the awards topic, I wouldn't have found it. Pretty good story. I look forward to the rest of these.

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You just made me hate Robert Hammond even more.

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all who hate hammond post now!

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That was well written. DSL, I love your stories...you tie up a lot of loose ends in the AA series. I'm still reading the Golden Gavel, but you have truely gained my respect as a writer.

You're also really good at portraying the characters. It was cool that you threw in that reference to polly...it made me feel even more bad for Yogi, that he had to go and name a parrot after her because he missed her so much.

Nice job. Don't stop now.

This is excellent! Keep up the good work.

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