User:John Lydon/RPG/9
You wait patiently for the show to be over by Simon Cowell's limo, passing the time by envisioning all the horrible ways you will make Simon suffer. Eventually, the door to the studio cracks open and the audience starts to filter out. You crouch down behind the limo so as not to be seen. Another hour passes and the door opens again. "This is it!" you think to yourself. Footsteps approach the limo. You hear the door open and spring out.
"Prepare to die you son of a......" You stop cold in your tracks. "Paula Abdul! What the hell?! This is your limo??!!" Paula screams for help and you are tackled by several large bodyguards.
You awake several hours later inside the L.A. county jail. A fat deputy waddles his way over to you. "That sure was a hell of a beatin' they gave you boy. We wuddn't sure you's gone make it. Since your awake, myswell make your phone call. I recommend a good lawyer, cuz you gone need one."
You only know one lawyer, your uncle Charlie, but you haven't spoken to him in years. "Well it's either him or the public defender." You think to yourself. Who you gonna call?
