[Setting: A Municipal Courthouse, Late Morning]
The courtroom buzzes with muted chatter, a mix of nervous energy and thinly veiled irritation. Elliot slumps in his seat, eyeing the clock. He clutches his jaywalking ticket like it’s a personal betrayal. The judge’s bench is empty, the nameplate mysteriously missing.
The bailiff’s voice booms: “Next case—Elliot Davis!”
Elliot drags himself to the bench, only to freeze halfway there. His jaw drops. Sitting in the judge’s chair, in all his chaotic glory, is the Coincidence.
He’s wearing a robe that looks suspiciously like it’s made of curtains from a high school production of Hamlet. His gavel is unmistakably a repurposed meat tenderizer.
Elliot (under his breath): “Nope. Nope. Nope.”
Coincidence (grinning ear to ear): “Exactly what I was hoping for! Step forward, Mr. Davis. Let’s discuss your heinous crime against order.”
Elliot (deadpan): “You can’t be serious.”
Coincidence (mock solemnity): “I assure you, I am the very picture of seriousness. Now, approach the bench before I hold you in contempt.”
Elliot trudges forward, muttering something about needing stronger coffee.
[The Court is Now in Session]
Coincidence (leaning dramatically on the bench): “Jaywalking. The unsung crime of the modern world. Do you have any idea the chaos you’ve unleashed?”
Elliot (rolling his eyes): “I crossed the street. That’s it.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Coincidence (ignoring him): “Ah, but is it really just crossing the street? Shall I tell you a story?”
Elliot (exasperated): “Do I have a choice?”
Coincidence (snapping the gavel/meat tenderizer down): “Overruled. Now, picture this…”
The Tale of Timmy and the Carrot Apocalypse
Coincidence:
“There was a village. A quaint little place where everyone obeyed the rules—crosswalks, speed limits, even those ‘Don’t walk on the grass’ signs. Everything was orderly. Predictable. And dreadfully boring.
But one day, young Timmy—bless his rebellious little heart—decided he’d had enough. Carrying a basket of apples for his grandmother, he crossed the street where there wasn’t a crosswalk. Bold. Audacious. A true pioneer.
Unfortunately, the farmer driving his cart didn’t expect Timmy. He swerved, spilling a load of carrots onto the road. Chaos ensued. The carrots tripped a messenger on horseback, who was carrying a treaty to end a war. The treaty was late. The war dragged on. And the village, once peaceful, became a hotspot for mild unrest.”
Elliot (blinking, incredulous): “A kid jaywalking caused a war?”
Coincidence (smirking): “Indirectly. But here’s the twist: the villagers didn’t blame Timmy. No, they blamed the crosswalks. Why weren’t they where people actually needed them? So they moved them, right where the villagers naturally crossed.
And guess what? No more spilled carrots, no more tripped messengers, no more wars. Timmy’s terrible crime improved the whole system.”
Elliot: “So you’re saying I’m supposed to... improve the system?”
Coincidence (leaning forward, narrowing his eyes): “Or maybe you’re just another spilled carrot. Who knows?”
The Verdict
The Coincidence picks up the gavel but hesitates, holding it like he’s about to make a toast.
Coincidence: “The question, Elliot, isn’t whether you’re guilty. It’s whether you’re useful. Are you Timmy, boldly crossing where others fear to tread? Or are you just a vegetable in someone else’s mess?”
Elliot (throwing up his hands): “What does that even mean?!”
Coincidence (grinning, slamming the gavel down): “Case dismissed. Also, pay the fine.”
The Aftermath
As Elliot leaves the courtroom, he notices the bailiff handing a parking ticket to a goat outside the courthouse.
Elliot (staring, muttering): “Of course. Because that makes sense.”
The goat bleats in response, its parking ticket already half-eaten.
Inside the crumpled remains, Elliot spots a scribbled note: “Sometimes, you have to break the rules to see where they’re weak.”
[End Scene]