Some people swore that the house was haunted. One, Sheila Wainwright, even vouched for the validity of this claim in Judge Harrow's court. The city attorney buried his head dejectedly in his hands for the entire performance. Why me, Jules Munroe thought, examining the slits of pink light crowding his vision. Why did I have to return to this God-awful hole-in-the-wall to practice law? Munroe's paralegal gave him a swift kick under the table.
Glancing up, the young lawyer realized the whole courtroom was smirking at him. ~ Excerpt from "Habeas Corpses" (NPR)
That's what we paralegals are here for, to help our supervising attorneys realize the whole courtroom is smirking at them.
This is an excerpt from Montana resident Derek Sturm's entry, "Habeas Corpses," in NPR's Round 5 Three-Minute Fiction contest. Every entry had to start with the line, "Some people swore the house was haunted," and end with the line, "Nothing was ever the same after that." You can listen to an NPR recording of the excerpt here.
It's true that a lot more goes on under the table at court proceedings than one thinks.