The Big Boobs of Justice

a short story about the power of cleavage in the courtroom

Craig was never that into big breasts, but once he saw how they could defeat the court system, he became a Boobs Guy.

The situation began in high school, as most do. Craig, who wasn’t shy about taking a day off from classes here and there, decided he would stop his school-skipping habit for the rest of the year.

He decided he wanted to do something with his life, and the uninformed adults in his life told him that required college. And so, he decided he to get on the collegiate path.

But on his way to school, his buddy Mike stopped him and told him to come smoke weed and play Mario Kart.

“I can’t,” Craig said. “I’m going to school. I want to do something with my life.”

Mike rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fucking nerd.” But Craig didn’t care. He was on a mission and walked into school that day feeling emboldened. He stood with his back straighter and his chin higher.

He knew that with the missed days and lack of attention to his school assignments that he had some work cut out for him. But he looked at those dreary hallways and drearier teachers as a challenge for him him to take on - and win.

He knew success was inevitable as long as he pushed forward.

But then something yanked him backward.

“C’mere, boyahh!”

Craig knew that raspy redneck voice, sounding like it ate the whole damn cigarette factory, coughed it up, and ate it up again.

School Resource Officer Jed Tool was a very large, very round man with hypertension red skin and an unkempt mustache that looked like a row of tumbleweeds. His fat hand squeezed Craig’s shirt collar and he grinned, showing off his yellow, Marlboro-christened teeth .

“YOU…gon’ ta…….court!” Officer Tool said, breathing so desperately on that last word, Craig felt a slight pain in his own chest just hearing it.

As the corpulent cop slapped cuffs on Craig’s wrists, he thought about how he could have been playing Mario Kart, but was instead going to court.

---

Craig was arrested for truancy while at school.

They might do this in other states, too, but your friendly author only knows about this happening in Texas, where benevolent public servants will arrest kids on truancy charges when they’re physically in school. Maybe to make them think twice about coming back? Consider it a School to Prison Express Lane, if you will.

Anyways, social justice commentary aside, our protagonist, 15-year-old Craig, was in the City of Garland courtroom, along with nearly two dozen other truants, each awaiting a face-to-face with Judge Wilbur Moss, who would decide how doomed their fate would be.

Judge Moss was notorious about punishing kids for skipping school. He felt it was his duty to dole out harsh penalties because he believed doing so would correct transgressive behavior while the youth in question was still malleable enough to be turned into a productive citizen.

The truants were almost all boys, with the exception of three girls: two were about 14 or 15 and looked looked so pissed off and exhausted from life, their obvious youth was like a mocking taunt.

But the third was beautiful and happy. She had blonde hair that soaked up the faint sunlight trickling in from the courtroom’s tiny windows. Her gentle, knowing smile gave her a sense of superiority, likely deserved. And she wore a tight, knit sweater with an American flag on the front that did its very best to contain two gigantic breasts that shouted at anyone who dared to look away.

Normally, a girl like that surrounded by the type of boys sitting around her, would have been subject to at least a bit of harassment. But her confidence warded them off. Even these boys, who broke rules out of habit, knew she was untouchable, in all senses of the word.

“Jill Thompson!” the bailiff shouted.

The girl with the American flag sweater stood up. Every eye locked onto her as the Old Glory jiggled to the front of the courtroom.

---

At this point in his life, it must be repeated for story’s sake that Craig was not impressed by large breasts. Long legs and shapely buttocks were more to his aesthetic inclinations when it came to the female body. Thus, Jill Thompson was an attractive girl but not necessarily his type, and so he was not unimpressed, but he was unpersuaded.

However, the bulging eyes popping out of Judge Moss’ skull got Craig to reconsider the situation.

Once he saw Jill Thompson come his way, Moss looked as if he might have the most happy stroke a mostly post-sex middle-aged man could have. And with each step and jiggle, he looked more and more like a horny cartoon character whose eyes and tongue were about to roll out of his head.

“Hello, young lady!” he said.

“Your honor,” Jill replied, with a contained, businesslike smile.

Craig could see that she already owned the judge and she knew it. It was a power that was as naked as it was embarrassing, for everyone in the courtroom could see it from the wayward truants to the placated police officers.

“So it says here you have missed 73 days this year,” Moss said. “Now, why on earth have you missed so many days of school?”

Jill took a deep breath. Moss stared at the patriotism on her chest rise and fall.

“Sir, I’m busy. And sometimes, I have other things to do,” she said in the sweetest little Southern accent you ever did hear - like a singsong melody dropped by an angel.

Moss stroked his chin.

“I see,” he said. “But you are aware that it’s not legal for you to miss 73 days of school, are you?”

“Sir,” she said, commanding the entire courtroom with her titular beauty. “I already know everything the school wants to teach me. I don’t need to go to hear them say it.”

A collective gasp from the pew of truants. You need to understand how in awe of this young lady everyone in the group of truants was. To have the balls - or breasts! - to just tell a judge you don’t need to go to school because you already know everything they were gonna say was the most incredible thing they had ever witnessed.

These were the kids who had spent most of their lives getting screwed by the system one way or another, who have seen their parents get screwed, and who have internalized a hatred for that system, but also an acquiescence of it because they knew they could never defeat it. Best to just avoid it. But sometimes you can’t avoid it, and you must pay a price, which you will never have any ability whatsoever to negotiate.

And yet, here was Jill Thompson, with an American flag on her GMO-enhanced breasts, telling a sitting judge what the deal was.

Craig fully admired her audacity, but he knew enough about Judge Moss to know that this was the worst course of action one should take on him.

According to everyone Craig knew who appeared before Moss, which was a lot of people, any smart aleck retort would be met with severity.

And so Craigs pitied her naivete, too. She did not know how the system worked. She did not know its unquestionable, unrelenting power.

“Since you know everything, how about a little quiz?” Moss said.

Jill smiled brightly and said she’d be happy to do so.

“Who was the first president of the United States of America?” Moss said.

“Sir, it was Abraham Lincoln,” Jill said.

Moss laughed. Not a mocking laugh, but a knowing and gentle laugh - the kind an adult gives to a child, which she was, but so were all the other truants.

“You’re off by a few years, but that’s okay,” Moss said.

“How about this one,” Moss said. “Who’s the president now?”

Jill Thompson thought for a moment, then confidently - chest out - said, “Sir, I personally think politics is ungodly.”

A collective gasp came from the truants in the pews, which Moss immediately addressed with fiery scorn.

“Y’ALL WILL BE SILENT IN MY COURTROOM!” he said.

Moss turned his attention back to Jill Thompson and smiled.

“Young lady, I believe that is a very good answer,” he said. “You clearly have a good, strong head on your che—I mean, shoulders. But I’m going to need you to continue going to school. Unfortunately, that is the law.”

Jill Thompson nodded.

“I understand, sir,” she said.

Moss rested his head on his hand as he looked at Jill Thompson with school boy crush eyes.

“Now, normally, I’d give someone with the amount of days you’ve missed something to think about. But I think you’ll be just fine. You go on and get outta here and stay out of trouble like I know you will,” he said, then winked.

Jill Thompson winked back, and walked out of the courtroom like she was tossing it away.

Moss and the bailiff looked at each other, chuckled naughtily, and cleared their throats simultaneously to get back to business.

Craig had just witnessed such a sheer display of ultimate power, he felt almost religious. To see someone wield such power over an institution that he felt was indomitable was the closest to a spiritual experience he had ever had.

Even when he eventually got his face-to-face with Moss and the previously horny judge looked upon him with absolute disgust and sentenced him to two weeks in juvie and 100 hours of community service for missing about a third of the days Jill Thompson missed, he didn’t care.

He had something to believe in now. He had a path. He had a purpose. He had a mission.

He would do what he had to do, get back in school, and fulfill the destiny that was unveiled to him in that courtroom that day: attaining the same power that he witnessed.

He would do so by getting breasts.

He would, indeed, become a Boobs Guy.

---

Ten years later, Craig, who was now Cathy, appeared in front of Judge Moss, who was now handling felony cases.

Cathy got busted selling banned substances to pay for her marvelous DDs, and was facing 5 to 10.

For her court appearance, Cathy wore a tight-knit sweater with an American flag on it, just like Jill Thompson.

As she sat at the defendant’s table, she straightened her back and pushed her breasts forward.

Moss looked up and lowered his glasses.

“Have I seen you somewhere before?” he said.

Cathy tossed her blonde hair back and smiled.

“Abraham Lincoln was the first president of America,” she said in a sweet little southern accent.

Moss grinned.