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Description
Up on it's throne sat his brain, not in the least bit impressive, adorned with a powdered wig. Next to it but on an intentionally lower level, sat an eye witness. It had every right to be there as his eye had seen many things. It however, was noticeably nervous, darting it's focus around the room never leaving him for more than a few moments.
On the opposite side of the judge (for the brain was a judge) hovered his pale and wiry hands. Anticipating the coming events the fingers danced and loosened over a dusty type-writer. His feet sat behind him, mute but lending their support. His hands however were quite cross and rest on the prosecutor's half of the courtroom. His mouth (for it was the mouth that took his defense) stilled itself beside him preparing for the coming clash.
His brain turned to his heart and asked, "is the Prosecution ready?" The heart mumbled a short agreement. "And the defense?" The mouth smiled slightly as he was fond of being addressed.
"Yes your honor," rolled off his tongue.
"And you," inquired the judge. "The jury of his tears?" A single tinkling voice rose in accordance. "Then we may begin. Prosecutor, your case?"
The heart stood up at once and was transparently giddy with excitement as he audibly pounded away. He spoke to his own beat. "The prosecution charges the defendant," he pointed directly at his soul and his cold formulaic words chilled it at once. Such cruelness from his own heart! "With numerous accounts of first degree murder, of which each individual case, (if the defendant is found guilty) is grounds for the death penalty."
He would have continued at his now rapid pace, if he had not been so rudely interrupted by the mouth. "Your honor if I may, I believe you forgot several key steps," he hissed coolly.
"Oh? And what might those steps be?" inquired the brain.
"Well," stated the mouth for he was confident this would be his swiftest victory yet, "of most significance is the defendants plea." The brain was ashamed and embarrassed instantly.
"Of course forgive me, and how does the defendant plead?"
"Not guilty your honor."
"Absurd!" cried the heart. "Your honor we have proof! No, damning proof that this man committed murder!" At this the mouth's smile spread wide, his sinister victory smile.
"Ah poor heart you didn't let me finish. The defendant pleads not guilty due to severe mental illness; he finds no wrong in it you see."
"Rubbish!" declared the heart. "Your honor how can you stand sun a bold faced affront to your courtroom?" The brain however seemed less concerned that the hear thought he ought to be.
"Prosecutor settle yourself. I find I am in agreement with the defendant's claim." This was too much for his foolish heart and it now raced uncontrollably.
"You're ill! All of you ill! This man deserves to be promptly hanged!" The mouth gave way to a muffled chuckle. He had not dreamed of such a crushing victory.
"See? You admit it yourself, you a poor fool's heart, his is indeed quite ill. Perhaps even mad." At this final word the rest of the courtroom burst into boisterous laughter..
This frightened the heart tremendously, to a point of near delirium. "No, no! I shan't believe it! How could this have happened? No!"
"Silence fool!" roared the brain. "How does the jury find?" Every tinkling, maniacal voice of the rears proclaimed in a chorus, "not guilty!" with such a force that the heart was finally silenced.
"Then," ceremoniously proclaimed the brain, "this court is adjourned." Happily chattering among themselves, every part of him left the room, save the heart, his heart. Defeated for a final time, it slunk into a corner and trembled, and would remain so for the rest of his life.

Description
Up on it's throne sat his brain, not in the least bit impressive, adorned with a powdered wig. Next to it but on an intentionally lower level, sat an eye witness. It had every right to be there as his eye had seen many things. It however, was noticeably nervous, darting it's focus around the room never leaving him for more than a few moments.
On the opposite side of the judge (for the brain was a judge) hovered his pale and wiry hands. Anticipating the coming events the fingers danced and loosened over a dusty type-writer. His feet sat behind him, mute but lending their support. His hands however were quite cross and rest on the prosecutor's half of the courtroom. His mouth (for it was the mouth that took his defense) stilled itself beside him preparing for the coming clash.
His brain turned to his heart and asked, "is the Prosecution ready?" The heart mumbled a short agreement. "And the defense?" The mouth smiled slightly as he was fond of being addressed.
"Yes your honor," rolled off his tongue.
"And you," inquired the judge. "The jury of his tears?" A single tinkling voice rose in accordance. "Then we may begin. Prosecutor, your case?"
The heart stood up at once and was transparently giddy with excitement as he audibly pounded away. He spoke to his own beat. "The prosecution charges the defendant," he pointed directly at his soul and his cold formulaic words chilled it at once. Such cruelness from his own heart! "With numerous accounts of first degree murder, of which each individual case, (if the defendant is found guilty) is grounds for the death penalty."
He would have continued at his now rapid pace, if he had not been so rudely interrupted by the mouth. "Your honor if I may, I believe you forgot several key steps," he hissed coolly.
"Oh? And what might those steps be?" inquired the brain.
"Well," stated the mouth for he was confident this would be his swiftest victory yet, "of most significance is the defendants plea." The brain was ashamed and embarrassed instantly.
"Of course forgive me, and how does the defendant plead?"
"Not guilty your honor."
"Absurd!" cried the heart. "Your honor we have proof! No, damning proof that this man committed murder!" At this the mouth's smile spread wide, his sinister victory smile.
"Ah poor heart you didn't let me finish. The defendant pleads not guilty due to severe mental illness; he finds no wrong in it you see."
"Rubbish!" declared the heart. "Your honor how can you stand sun a bold faced affront to your courtroom?" The brain however seemed less concerned that the hear thought he ought to be.
"Prosecutor settle yourself. I find I am in agreement with the defendant's claim." This was too much for his foolish heart and it now raced uncontrollably.
"You're ill! All of you ill! This man deserves to be promptly hanged!" The mouth gave way to a muffled chuckle. He had not dreamed of such a crushing victory.
"See? You admit it yourself, you a poor fool's heart, his is indeed quite ill. Perhaps even mad." At this final word the rest of the courtroom burst into boisterous laughter..
This frightened the heart tremendously, to a point of near delirium. "No, no! I shan't believe it! How could this have happened? No!"
"Silence fool!" roared the brain. "How does the jury find?" Every tinkling, maniacal voice of the rears proclaimed in a chorus, "not guilty!" with such a force that the heart was finally silenced.
"Then," ceremoniously proclaimed the brain, "this court is adjourned." Happily chattering among themselves, every part of him left the room, save the heart, his heart. Defeated for a final time, it slunk into a corner and trembled, and would remain so for the rest of his life.