Author: Johann Whokebe

he is striking with two mallets, then four, then six; then he stops and exits through a side door. you look now at the judge, who you realize is also whokebe. the judge remarks that the marimba bars, his gavel, your chair and, in fact, all the wood surfaces of the trial chamber are made from rosewood found in the forest outside belmopan in which you killed your wife.

"but i was never married," you say. you realize you have said this in spanish, a language which you have never studied.

the judge shakes his head impatiently. "the victim was not your own wife, of course," he says, "but the wife of the man in whose place you now stand trial."

you notice a mirror on the table in front of you. "we always supply a mirror," the judge says. you look at your reflection.

"johann whokebe," the judge says, "stand to receive your sentence."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1013289&forum_id=2#11934704)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2025194&forum_id=2Reputation#21352283)