[Blackfoot]

by Gordon Keith


I wonder how Anna Nicole Smith found such sympathetic ears on the Supreme Court this week.

I imagine ...


The chamber is packed. The normally stuffy air of the high court, vaguely smelling of B.O., is punctured by a current carrying a harlot's perfume to the flared nostrils of Chief Justice John Roberts. He closes his eyes and takes a deep whiff of indiscretion before finally speaking: "Miss Smith – Anna – we would like to ask you a few questions concerning your late husband's final wishes."

Anna adjusts her morphine drip and nods.

"First of all, from all the guys on the bench, may I say just how great it is to see you in person, and how glad we all are that you're not fat anymore?"

A contagion of "hear hear" spreads down the bench. Justice Thomas gets up and briefly does the Running Man.

Roberts continues: "And I hope you don't mind the flowers. They are from Justice Alito. He's a big fan." Alito waves and grins uncontrollably. "However, the Mylar balloons are from me. One of them is shaped like a wheelchair in front of a stripper's pole!"

"Thhank you. I luvvv you gise. Ya'll are all soo ssweight," Anna says, then puts her head down on the table.

"Now, on to the matter at hand," Roberts continues. "I almost hate to ask this, but do you really expect us to believe that this 90-year-old corpse of a man wanted his 27-year-old bride of 14 months to have half of his $1.6 billion fortune that took him a lifetime to accumulate?"

Anna's drool spreads out on the table like an egg white and snoring ensues.

"Miss Smith?" says Roberts. He exchanges raised eyebrows with the EMTs left over from the Rehnquist days. Finally, a shepherd's crook comes in from off camera and pokes Anna Nicole.

"Whaa? Oh, I troooly do so mush think so. Marshall whass almost like a hussban to may," Anna says, then spits up onto her lapel.

Roberts leans over toward Scalia. "Sounds pretty convincing to me. Whatcha think, Tony?"

"Pretty open-and-shut case if you ask me, Jack," Scalia replies.

"Look at those cans," says an unblinking Breyer.

"Man, what I wouldn't give to honk those things," says Alito. Justice Thomas does the Cabbage Patch as Kennedy fidgets under his robe.

"Well then, in the matter of Anna Nicole Smith versus something or another, we the Supreme Court find for that slurring wreck of a human being that still looks good even with sick on her lapel."

Gavel bang.