Eight Crazy Nights2002

Judge:
Stone, what the heck are we going to do with you? In the past twenty years, I’ve sent you to reform school, the drunk tank, the local psychiatric ward. Not one of those places has made you change an ounce for the better. ‘Cause you used to be a good kid, playing ball for the Jewish Community Center, with the best jump shot this town’s ever seen.

Davey:
[opens the flask] Your honor, I still got a pretty good jump shot. Let me show you. [takes a drink of whiskey, and then jumps very quickly, and not very far] I’d hit a three-pointer, except I’d have to drop my pants and pop a thumb up my boo-boo.

Judge:
Stone, you leave me no choice. I’m gonna really have to crack down hard this time.

Whitey:
[chiming in, with his fore head seen a little in the seating area] Your honor, if it pleases the court, I’d like to interject for a moment.

Mr. Chang:
What the hell was that? Did anybody else hear a parakeet, or am I going crazy?

Whitey:
[shows himself by stepping out into the aisle with his Cain] No, Mr. Chang. It’s me, Whitey Duvall. And a happy first night of Chanukah to you.

Mr. Chang:
I’m not Jewish.

Whitey:
Neither am I, but that don’t stop me from enjoying a holiday.

Judge:
Whitey, we went over this two months ago. It’s your last year of reffing the youth league basketball. You’re turning 70 years old and our insurance company says they won’t cover you anymore.

Whitey:
Ha, ha. No, no, no. My interjection pertains to the case currently under adjudication. You see, I knew this young man years ago when his moral fiber was still intact.

Judge:
Whitey, what are you getting at?

Whitey:
Why not sentence him to be a referee-in-training for the youth league basketball? I’ve seen some pretty rowdy kids turn into perfect gentlemen after spending time on my court.

Judge:
If that happened with Stone, it would be a miracle.

Whitey:
Well, it is the holidays and those kinda things have been known to happen this time of year.

Judge:
Whitey, if you want to work with this punk, then God bless you. But Mr. Stone, what Whitey says goes. And if I hear that you break one law, I will send you to the state penitentiary for no less than 10 years.

Davey:
Huh?

Judge:
Happy holidays. [pounds his gavel, adjourning the trial]

Davey:
Oh, god.