On the use of modern courtroom technology

 

Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Delaware, there lived a remarkable Baby.

Unlike ordinary babies, Baby Hancock could miss deadlines, forget to serve papers, file second and third motions before answering, wander into procedural corners, and yet never seem to suffer so much as a scraped knee.

For Baby was no ordinary baby.

Baby belonged to the Great House of Hancock - and Hancock, in its turn, belonged to the Greater House of Murphy - and Murphy was - OOOOH, wasn't he!  He was the CHIEF VERY ADMINISTRATIVE JUDGE OF VERY UPSTATE OF NEW YORK.

Now, deep within the Castle of the Sixth District hung an enormous sign, written in flashing crimson letters dropping blood:

JUDGE MURPHY'S ORDERS

PULL BABY OUT OF ALL CORNERS

OR I WILL JUDGE-SEIDEN YOU!

Every judge who entered the castle read the sign.  Every judge was required to put the sign in prominent places in the judge's abode, with appropriate interface connected to Judge Murphy's chambers - to ensure friendly compliance, of course.

Everybody knew what it means to be Judge-Seidened...  Or to be Judge-DeStefanoed, which was essentially the same.

One particular knight of the robe, Sir Christopher Baker, in full compliance with Judge Murphy's standing orders, read the flashing sign every morning before breakfast.  In fact, he ordered custom-made flashing letters, with appropriate remote interface to Judge Murphy's Chambers, and put them on his fridge.

Take the milk out - look at the sign.  The sign will look at you and ensure compliance.

Want a hotdog - look at the sign, and so on.

No nutrition without looking at the sign and without the sign looking at you.

So, the flashing fridge magnet sign worked: it got etched on Sir Baker's brain, as was the intention.  Because - who would want to "or else be Judge-Seidened".  Self-preservation, folks.

So, whenever Baby wandered into another procedural corner, the royal alarm wirelessly connected to the fridge magnet sign rang multiple bells.  The size of ... "those evening bells .... DOOM DOOM".

So - "Ding! Baby missed another deadline!"

Sir Baker would rush in and gently lift Baby.

"There, there," he would whisper.

Another bell.

"Ding! Baby forgot to serve one of the plaintiffs."

"There, there," Sir Baker would reply, picking up Baby's drooling with a lace perfumed bib embroidered:

**REASONABLE EXCUSES **

and cooing - while casting furtive glances at the fridge magnets with their in-built wireless cameras going right to Judge Murphy's chambers and kitchen -

don't cry, Baby, we will simply adjourn the motion that does not exist and require appearances on it by never-served parties.  BECAUSE - who wants to be Judge-Seidened otherwise?

Another bell.

"Ding! CPLR 3211(e) says only one pre-answer motion!"

Sir Baker frowned.

"The Rulebook clearly needs imagination."

Another bell.

"Ding! Three pre-answer motions!"

Sir Baker looked at the Rulebook.

The Rulebook looked back and shrunk into its own corner.  Sir Baker did not rescue the Rulebook from that corner - why would he?

Nobody threatens anybody to rescue rulebooks out of corners!  

Meanwhile, in the darkest corner of the kingdom crawled the Baby, a/k/a Hancock Estabrook LLP.

Its distinguished counselors trembled behind piles of parchment writings - including baby admissions - labeled:

LAW OFFICE FAILURE

NOT SERVED

DEFAULT

EX PARTE

MISSED DEADLINES

Every few minutes someone would squeak:

"But... we're in another corner!"

Sir Baker would sigh heroically.

"No corner shall contain Baby."

Out would come the royal tow rope.

Out would come another drooling pickup bib.

Out would come another emergency procedural vacuum cleaner.

Sir Baker was a genius.

At amazing speed and with unrelenting vigor he rescued Baby - always! Who would not admire a baby-rescuing hero!

The kingdom did so admire.

It applauded.

One old wizard finally asked:

"Your Honor... if Baby keeps ending up in corners every week... perhaps Baby should simply learn not to crawl - oh, excuse me, walk into corners?  After all, that is what Baby law licenses are for - to learn to walk before stepping in to represent clients?"

The courtroom fell silent.

By that time, under Judge Murphy's standing orders, Sir Baker wore, beneath his judicial robe, at all times, elegant Wireless Loyalty Chains™, remotely connected to Judge Murphy's security cameras and a Gentle Incentive Taser.

The Loyalty Chains communicated directly with Sir Baker's nervous system. Such friendly stimulation was universally recognized throughout the Kingdom as being highly conducive to sound judicial reasoning. Consequently, decisions arrived with astonishing speed.

"Teach Baby?"

Sir Baker gasped.

"Preposterous."

"Baby must be gently rescued at all times. And villains who hurt Baby's precious little feelings must be..."

At that precise moment, another friendly motivational buzz travelled through the Loyalty Chains and into various parts of Sir Baker's anatomy.

"I WILL RESERVE DECISION," Sir Baker suddenly proclaimed, "as to how best to baby Baby in ways no one has ever babied Baby before!"

The Loyalty Chains rewarded him with a delightful full-body Oriental massage.

Quite involuntarily, Sir Baker sighed with bliss:

"Massage is so much better than the taser..." - and got tasered on the spot.