I am in the habit of saying that I don't have any Angels as clients...well, I can no longer say that. Recently, I was appointed to represent, as Guardian ad litem, a young woman named Angel. I read a report that her stepfather had taken a swing at her with an ax handle and that she had retaliated by hitting him with a baseball bat. Sounds like a charming family. I wonder if I can get an invite to Thanksgiving dinner.
The prosecutor dropped the case the same day I got it, and I figured that the least I could do would be to give a call to my client. So I called her house's number and insisted on speaking to her. When she finally got her on the line, she said (this is a direct quote) "I'M ALIVE! NOW DROP DEAD!"
Last month, I got to represent America. Yep, America Browning. I managed to get her a Consent Decree against her nogoodnik ex-boyfriend. Last week, I got another member in my memorable name club. I went to see a client and her Foster mom. I was *mildly* surprised that a young white kid had a black foster mom, but no problemo. I found that Foster Mom was a very sweet lady. Exactly *how* sweet? She was sweet as chocolate. 'Cuz her name was Chocolate Lee. (If you want everybody to like your kid, what better name could you give them? I mean, who doesn't love Chocolate?)
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