Looking around the table, Kitty opened her prosecution, “We are at the top of the food chain, is the justification put forward for torturing, murdering, and eating billions of innocent animals every year. Pffttt!”
Then, glaring at King, she scoffed, “You’ve heard it all before? Not exactly original. I was hoping for something more, something new, from a man like you, but this will do. But I do challenge you to find something new. I’ve heard it all before.”
Once again looking around the table, the vegan predator said, “Let’s leave aside, for the moment, the idea that we are supposed to be the most evolved species on the planet. The smartest. The most humane. Interesting, isn’t it, that we are so full of ourselves that we simply tack an E on the end of human, in order to produce a synonym for compassionate. To be human is to be humane. To be humane is to be human. I’ll not tarry on this point for long, no longer than it takes to point out that ours is the only species on the planet that engages in all-out warfare, and ask, where is the humanity in that?”
On most every previous occasion that she had prosecuted some dumb fool, who was dumb and fool enough to start bleating for a beating on the issue of her veganism, Kitty had to wait for them to calm their tits at least once by the time she got this far into her case. She was grateful that she had a captive and respectful audience this time. But she was certain that that would change quickly. And it did. Quicker than she thought it would. And what a stupid error it was for King to commit.
“We are on the top of the food chain. I’ve heard it all before.” she repeated, to Stephen’s obvious annoyance.
So annoyed was King, in fact, that he broke his silence long enough to mock, “Are you seriously going to try to dispute that? If so, see Sagan, extraordinary claims…”
Before he could finish making that mistake again, Lance glared at him, and scowled, “Shut the fuck up, and let her speak. You’ll get your turn.”
The prosecutor ignored the commotion, but answered the challenge, “No, I shan’t bother with that. As I’ve already hinted at, being at the top of the food chain does not absolve us of this sin. Instead, I ask you to imagine, if you will, you are hearing the voice of Rod Serling saying, ‘Imagine, if you will, that humans have been replaced at the top of the food chain by a species of sadistic, alien invaders, who have come to Earth to farm us.’”
“Oh, c’mon” King sneered. “Is that what you’ve got? Is that all you’ve got?|”
Lance wasn’t having it. “Shut the fuck up! Where the fuck do you get off? Would you dare condescend to Asimov, if he were the one making this case? Would you have the gall to mock him, if he were going to use a hypothetical argument, a hypothetical argument based in science-fiction, to make this case? Or, do you reserve that shit for those who, for reasons I cannot fathom, you believe yourself superior to?”
King kept his mouth shut, but that did not bring his son’s scathing attack to a grinding halt. “Do you wanna stick your fingers in your ears, and giggle, ‘Na-na-na-na-na-na, I can’t hear you’? Do you wanna run away, saying this is a kangaroo court, in which you have no chance of acquittal, because you were not prepared for this prosecutorial gambit? If so, go on, fuck off. I’ll be happy to sit here, and watch Kitty convict you in absentia.”
Madonna was loving it. “Yeah, Stephen, shut the fuck up, and take your beating like a man. You picked this fight. Don’t be a sniveling bitch. No one has any use for sniveling bitches, least of all anyone at this table.”
Oh, dear, it was gonna be a gangbang. Meatmouth was gonna get beat on like a redheaded stepmule who’d been caught rolling in the hay with the farmer’s retarded daughter. If Kitty wanted to, she could act like a conductor, waving a baton to signal for a blitzkrieg of sonic sadism from her soloists, anytime she felt it might amuse her.