Hear Ye, Hear Ye!
The courtroom hung heavy with the echoing sound of the gavel as the congregration settled down to a dull roar.
"I will have order in my court!" bellowed the judge, his face red with anger.
Silence reigned once again.
"Now, you may proceed, counselor." He motioned to the prosecuting attorney. The prosecutor straightened his tie, cleared his throat and approached the witness once again.
"As I was saying, your honor," the prosecutor said, his long southern drawl melting into his words, "there is absolutely NO evidence of the whearabouts of the defendant during the night of this heinous crime. He has no proof as to where he was other than the sketchy account of a friend he had spoken to later that evening. Therefore, he is obviously guilty and should be prosecuted to the furthest legal extent." The prosecutor sat down, a smug smile crossed his face.
The jury mumbled to each other. Shaking their heads and looking at the defendant, now sitting with his head bowed on the stand.
"Your witness." The judge said to the defendant's attorney.
"Thank you, your honor." the attorney said, "Now while the prosecution's allegations are quite persuasive, I beg to differ on his conclusions. There is, in fact, concrete, solid evidence of the whereabouts of my client. Your honor, he was on Rove in the Harold B. Lee Library."
The crowd began to mumur again. The judge silenced the courtroom again. "I presume, conselor, that you have evidence of this 'roving?'"
"I do, your honor." said the attorney, proudly. "I have here, his ROVE LOG! Fully filled out!"
The courtroom erupted in cheers. The defendant had filled out his rove log. His whereabouts were known and his honor was in tact.
Thank you, Rove Log!
