“All rise….for the honorable….the great…..the beautiful…..the lusciously delectable heartthrob that drops senior citizen trousers everywhere….Judge…Spatula Nelson the third!” roared Kettle Cornelius in his elegant British accent, as he glided past the sink of the kitchen courtroom, where the toaster throne laid untouched for the esteemed dignitary.
The rumbling of the citizens of the kingdom quieted as the solemn Spoon mothers shushed their Spork children, while the Fork fathers held their breath in anticipation.
The Knives stood by the throne as their faces dripped heavily with sweat and soaked the royal insignia patches on their chests.
A dark shadow appeared from the distance of the kitchen, and with each slow step, the countertop creaked louder and louder. Finally, a hunchback blue robed figure emerged, with a gold encrusted cane that glistened so brightly that it caused the citizens to squint in it’s presence.
As he approached the throne, he looked around to the citizens of the kingdom with contempt as he positioned himself on the almighty toaster.
“And why….is there no damn applause my ignoramus peasants,” he said as he put up a toothless grin. The courtroom breathed a sigh of relief and cheered that the honorable Judge Spatula Nelson the 3rd didn’t order one of their heads off right away.
“Don’t mind them my good sir, we save the applause for the end, when you make the correct decision as always. Well get on with the compliments then!” scoffed Cornelius at the courtroom.
“Spatula Nelson the third….so dreamy!” swooned the ladies, as they looked at each other in disgust.
“Spatula Nelson the third….I want to be him!” groaned the gentlemen, as they wondered if the fall from the kitchen countertop would really be that horrible of a fate.
“Yes, yes, we all know, you may all take turns complimenting me as you scrub my feet during my honorable bath time,” laughed Judge Nelson sheepishly. “Let’s bring on the first guilty bitc…..erg, I mean the first defendant. And who will that be Cornelius?”
“My judge, we have today…. another…..Egg,” muttered Cornelius. The Knives rolled over the Egg and stood by her side. The courtroom mumbled as they already knew what the verdict would be, and looked down at their watches.
“Hello Egg, guilty, how are you, guilty, and what crimes have you committed on this fine evening?” pondered Judge Nelson the third , as he debated in his head whether he was more intellectually gifted or physically stunning.
“None.” said the Egg bravely as she locked eyes with the Judge Nelson the third, refusing to back down against his menacing gaze.
“I see, I see. You don’t say? What a peculiar case. And Cornelius, what have we done with the past 63 Eggs that have come through my courtroom,” asked Judge Nelson the third, already knowing the answer to his own question. He began to doodle images of himself with scandalously dressed women in red crayon, as he lost interest in the court case.
“We have cracked them, my honorable Judge,” sighed Cornelius.
“Oh will you look at that. Who could have possibly have predicted that. On with it then. Let us….CRACK THE EGG,” shouted Judge Nelson, as he tossed his drawings into the air.
The courtroom clapped meekly, not impressed with the decision by any means. The Knives picked up the Egg for the cracking ritual, but she wiggled out of their grasp and rolled over to the throne.
“No” she said. “Not until I know the reason why I have to be cracked. I deserve that at least.”
The courtroom gasped in horror, as no one had defied the ruling of the honorable Judge Nelson.
“Yawn yawn yawn, and just when I thought I could catch the 8:00pm documentary of my sex appeal, narrated by me, of course. Well then, explain away Cornelius,” sighed Nelson.
“Because you are an Egg….and Eggs get cracked? Souffles. Pancakes. Cake. Your death will not go unnoticed, I promise you that much. The court of Judge Nelson refines your flaws, and perfects them. You will come through this experience as a better Egg, an Egg that benefits the needs of our kitchen, as all good Eggs must,” stated Cornelius.
“And so you judge me for my appearance? That just because I am an Egg, I am subjected to the same destiny that all other Eggs must have? That I have no qualities that differentiate me from any other Egg? That all Eggs are universally the same? This kitchen is the a sauna of slaughter, that ingrains principals of cruelty and unfairness on all its subjects. A courtroom is supposed to bring about the truth, as a reflection of naturally held morals of society. You are obligated to bring about change in the lives of your subjects, not shackle them to a tradition of relegation. Through fact and willingness for compassion, not a constitution of sameness. I refuse to be cracked based on the sole fact that I am an Egg, “ declared the Egg, as she stood her ground.
“Well there you have it. The Egg that refuses to be cracked. What should I do? Hmmm…being the fair and honorable judge that I am….let us….BOIL THE EGG,” said Nelson with a grin.
The courtroom erupted into thunderous applause.