Eustace Feetbeer v. Lil' Max Meatboots

 

Untitled. Photo by Joe

Remember when no one asked me about hobo romance, but I ANSWERED ANYWAY? Wasn't that sweet? Well dig this - lately no one is constantly asking me about hobo breakups. Enough, already! I'll tell you. You see, a lot of people don't know (or understand, or accept) this, but hoboes were people, and as people, they did most of the same people-y things that people do*. That includes divorce. They divorced at a lower rate than the general population, but that is mainly due to the facts that A) they had very little access to courts or legal representation, and B) to a lot of hoboes, "divorce" was defined as "push off a trestle."

In the matter of Eustace Feetbeer v. Lil' Max Meatboots, the divorce decree was read by Judge Roughneck.

"In the matter of Eustace Feetbeer versus Lil' Max Meatboots, this court finds in favor of the plaintiff, and does hereby decree that plaintiff's marriage to the defendant is dissolved, and all of plaintiff's claims are hereby awarded..."

"'AMEN,' said the church!" Eustace exclaimed, stomping a yeasty foot and raising both hands heavenward.

The judge struck his sound block with its matching gavel. "Order, please."

"Sorry, your honor."

"Defendant is hereby ordered to immediately relinquish full and complete custody of all of the marital progeny produced by this union..."

"Fine," Lil' Max Meatboots sneered. "Take 'em, and here's to good riddance. Have you seen the price of mealworms, lately?"

We love Mommy and Daddy equally. Just feed us. Photo by Joe

Another smack of the gavel, a little harder this time. "Order, Mr. Meatboots. Both parties will observe silence while the judgement is read."

"Will we, though?" Max wondered aloud.

"You will."

Eustace raised her hand, and when the judge returned his attention to the document before him, pointedly ignoring her, she said, "Wait. I don't really want the lizards..."

"Iguanas," Max corrected.

"Whatever. Shut up. If you did other things as well as you correct me, maybe we wouldn't be here! Anyway, I don't want a bunch of iguanas. I'm a hobo; they'll be nothing but a hindrance."

Additional gavel strikes. "Order, both of you! Please let me finish. You're welcome to go argue your little divorced heads off - outside, after we adjourn. Understood?"

"Yes, your honor," they chorused.

"Mr. Meatboots, you are hereby prohibited from sharing, in public or in private, the story of Ms. Feetbeer's parents' untimely demise, no matter how funny you may think it is."

"Oh come on, Judge!" Max protested. "Sharing a romantic smooch in the city fountain, only to be eaten by carnivorous whelks?** That, my friend, is funny."

Even SNAILS?? Harsh... Photo by Joe

"Order. I'm begging you..." 

"But she's allowed to share my stories? That's not fair!"

"It's as fair as you breaking your solemn vow, and canoodling all over the Union Pacific with Ol' Barb Stab-You Quick," Eustace said flatly.

"For the hundredth time, that was not canoodling. I was at knifepoint. She was going to stab me..."

"Whatever you say, mister. I now have the court-ordered right to tell everyone about how your folks met their fates - your dad with the nickel overdose, and your mother asphyxiating, face-down in a giant mixing bowl full of proofing pizza dough. I can't wait for the next fellowship dinner..."

"Mean," Lil' Max said with a pout.

"Order! Just let me get through this, please. There's not much more."

"Yes, sir."

"Defendant is prohibited from describing Plaintiff's feet and their hoppy, intoxicating aroma..."

"Ha!" Eustace gloated. 

Judge Roughneck was undeterred. "Plaintiff is likewise forbidden to discuss Defendant's rancid gamey footwear, or its disgusting, unholy origin."

"Ha!" Max shouted.

"Boooooo," Eustace booed.

"Finally, on the desperately-contested matter of the custody of the icicles..."

"Mine!" they chorused, glaring at each other.

We don't like red thermometers. Photo by Joe

"Custody is hereby awarded to the earth," the judge deadpanned.

"What?" Max asked. "What does that mean?"

"They were icicles, sir. They are no longer icicles, having long ago melted. You're not very bright, are you?"

"YOU'RE not very bright!" Max countered.

"Okay," said the judge. He banged his gavel one last time, rose from his chair and headed for his chambers, declaring "Adjourned!" over his shoulder.

Eustace laughed. "You tell him, Max. You still don't take no guff, do you?"

"Thanks," Max said, "I do not."

Eustace thought for a moment. "Say, crazy idea," she said, "Shot in the dark. You wanna go get a drink or something - for old time's sake?"

"Love to, Eun. Love to."

*You are not going to find many bloggers willing to put that many people (FIVE!) in a single sentence.

**"Carnivorous whelks" courtesy of [Maris] - all rights reserved.