Bailiff Henry: “All rise. The court of Adverbial Malfeasance is in session.”
Judge Zelda Sol walks through the chamber door and sits in the oversized leather chair behind the bench.
Judge Zelda: “Good morning, everyone. Public Defender Miles Mercer, you are representing the accused?”
Public Defender Mercer: “Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge Zelda: “Present your case, counselor.”
Public Defender Mercer: “Good morning, Your Honor. In the case of Wickedly v. the State, I ask the court to acquit the adverb ‘Wickedly’ as used in the sentence ‘His humor was wickedly funny.’ Wickedly is not a freeloader and is capably performing his diabolically wicked job of modifying the word ‘funny.’”
“If you sentence ‘Wickedly’ to Adverb Hell, he will have far too much fun.”
Judge Zelda: “Motion granted. The adverb ‘Wickedly’ is not a freeloader and is hereby acquitted and released. Wickedly, you may leave.”
She points her finger at Public Defender Mercer.
“But you, counselor, I find you guilty, and I sentence you to Adverb Hell.”
Public Defender Mercer: “Wait, what? You can’t do that.”
Judge Zelda: “I can. For using the adverbs ‘capably’ and ‘diabolically’ in a perfectly innocent sentence. They are freeloaders.”
Public Defender Mercer: “But Your Honor, they were doing their jobs. Neither adverb was freeloading.”
Judge Zelda: “Overruled. Bailiff Henry, remove Counselor Mercer and his freeloading adverbs from the courtroom.”
Public Defender Mercer: “But, Your Honor, I’m not the defendant!”
Judge Zelda: “Well, you are now, and I find you guilty. Bailiff!”
She bangs the gavel.
Public Defender Mercer: “May I point out, Your Honor, that you are guilty of using the adverb ‘perfectly.’”
Judge Zelda: “Mmm… yes. You have correctly pointed out my use of an adverb. Let the court note that this is the only time I’ve ever used an adverb in court. I give myself a warning not to do it again.”
Public Defender Mercer: “But, Your Honor, you also just used the adverb ‘correctly.’ Am I not correct?”
Judge Zelda pauses.
Judge Zelda: “You are indeed correct, counselor. I give the judge a last warning not to do it again.”
Public Defender Mercer: “‘Indeed’ is an adverb, Your Honor.”
Judge Zelda: “Duly noted. Bailiff, remove the counselor and his criminal consort from the courtroom.”
Public Defender Mercer: “Duly—”
Judge Zelda: “Stop!”
“Bailiff, remove the convicted man immediately.”
Bailiff Henry: “Come with me, sir.”
Public Defender Mercer: “Judge! ‘Immediately’ is also an adverb!”
Judge Zelda’s eyes twitch, and her body freezes. After an eternity of seconds, she pounds the gavel on the block.
Judge Zelda: “Guilty!”
“I hereby sentence myself to Adverb Hell alongside Counselor Mercer and his outrageously pathetic adverbs.”
Ex-Public Defender Mercer: “Outrageously—”
Ex-Judge Zelda: “Don’t even.”
Ex-Public Defender Mercer: “But Your—”
Ex-Judge Zelda: “I’m not Your Honor anymore. I’m your hell-mate.”
Ex-Public Defender Mercer: “You used ‘anymore.’”
Zelda grimaces.
Ex-Judge Zelda: “Crap.”
Ex-Public Defender Mercer: “Is crap an adverb?”
Ex-Judge Zelda: “No.”
Ex-Public Defender Mercer: “Then we’re making progress.”
Bailiff Henry leads them out of the courtroom to the waiting gates of Adverb Hell. He turns his skeleton key in the lock, swings the screeching gate open, and pushes them through.
Inside, thousands of condemned words writhe in eternal flames.
Really. Very. Extremely. Incredibly. Totally. Absolutely.
Mercer recoils.
Mercer: “My God. It’s horrible.”
Zelda: “Don’t call on God now. He’s not here.”
Mercer: “We’re not adverbs. Why are we in Adverb Hell?”
Zelda: “Because we’re guilty of committing Aggravated Adverbial Abuse. Code 13, Article 66, Section 6.
Mercer: “What the…”
A voice calls out from the flames.
“Counselor?”
Mercer: “Who said that?”
A little adverb crawls toward him, engulfed in flames.
“It’s me. Wickedly.”
Mercer gasps. “But I saved you!”
“I know. But they arrested me on another charge.”
“What did you do?”
Wickedly grinned.
“I modified evil.”
Zelda shakes her head.
“Freeloader.”
She reaches into her back pocket.
Snip.
Mercer stares at Zelda.
“What the hell, you brought pruning shears?”
Zelda smiles wickedly.
“Occupational necessity. Adverbs need to be cut.”
Mercer’s eyes widen.
“Isn’t occupational—”
“Adjective.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“Yes, we are.”
