Trial by Wombat

You are dragged into court for a crime no one will clearly explain. The charges change every few seconds: theft of intangible vibes, impersonating a chair, unlawful possession of Tuesday. At the center of the courtroom sits the judge: a rotund, unmoving wombat wearing an oversized powdered wig. No one questions this. The bailiff slams a fish against the wall for silence. “ALL RISE FOR HIS HONOR, SIR CHONKINGTON THE UNYIELDING.” The wombat does not rise. The trial begins anyway.