Like most kids, I was addicted to comic books. If I went missing, my parents knew I could be found sitting on the floor of the Rexall Drug Store or Larry's Confectionery chewing a wad of Double Bubble and reading the latest from the circular rack.
I even drew my own comics which, since photocopiers hadn't been invented yet, were passed hand to hand among my friends.
Years later, by then an actor, I met a lawyer on a Scottish train who was defending a woman accused of murder and invited me to the trial.
It was a fascinating case, filled with as much emotion and drama as the play I was touring, but with far higher real life stakes. That experience turned me into a more than occasional visitor to courthouses, witnessing human conflicts that informed the fiction I was writing.
A couple of years ago, my experience of comic books and courthouses combined when I was hired to write a comic book that's now used in every Canadian University and hundreds of American law schools to teach Aboriginal law.
But none of this prepared me for what the creators of Cartoon Network's "Rick and Morty" were able to come up with from a brief Floyd County, Georgia preliminary hearing
The real court transcript can be found here.
But the animated version will make your day.
Enjoy Your Sunday.