All Lawyers go to Hell, Eventually (part 1)
How do you put a price on a life? My Sunday School teacher always used to tell us that life was priceless, that it was a miracle of God's will. My third year tort professor told us that the price of a life is determined solely by how much you can get for it. By way of example, if a child is poisoned from a tainted box of Cheerios, that child's life can be worth as much as four million dollars, not counting any medical, legal or incidental (i.e. bullshit) expenses. But, if that same child were to be struck and killed by a drunk driver, on his way to collect a welfare cheque, you'd be lucky to get gas money for your trip to court. But, that's what I do. I put prices on lives. And I've heard all the names; ambulance chasers, sharks in suits, or even just plain old scumbag. Oh, funny story: did you know where scumbag comes from? It's meant to mean a condom, or a bag of scum. Scum would be a slag for ejaculate. Interesting. Anyway, like I was saying, I assign monetary value to people's lives. I am a civil lawyer, and a pretty decent one. I've handled hundreds of cases, most of which I try to settle out-of-court. I don't like courts. Too stressful, too many rules. And I fucking hate judges. Moreover, I hate this recent trend in reality TV, where wisecracking judges are at the centre of civil cases, televised on TV. If you drink Budweiser, you know who I'm talking about; Judge Judy, Judge Joe Brown, hell even Ed Koch. The man was mayor of New York City, for Christ sake. Ah well, such is life. I'd go on a larger diatribe about how much selling out annoys me, but I wanted to a district attorney, so I fear the hypocrisy would cause my testicles to shrivel into raisins.
Not that I don't love what I do. I find shaking corporations down for money, while also exploiting those injured or grieving to be highly satisfying and not at all damaging to the soul. And they say sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. And speaking of souls, I'll never forget this one case I had. In fact, it's kinda the reason I'm writing this story. I had a guy come to me once, wanting to challenge a contract he'd signed. Turns out, he'd signed a contract that required the sale of his soul to the devil.
Not that I don't love what I do. I find shaking corporations down for money, while also exploiting those injured or grieving to be highly satisfying and not at all damaging to the soul. And they say sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. And speaking of souls, I'll never forget this one case I had. In fact, it's kinda the reason I'm writing this story. I had a guy come to me once, wanting to challenge a contract he'd signed. Turns out, he'd signed a contract that required the sale of his soul to the devil.