Chapter Two
Chapter Two
I walked back inside and dropped the mail on my coffee table and pulled out the letter from the state. I tore it open and read the letter, which was a summons for jury duty. Ugh I don't have time to go to trial, to be out in public with people I probably won't like. I mean, I'm glad the United States government helped me get on my feet when I woke that fateful day three years ago, but I don't feel like going in for about ten days or more to hear evidence presented and witnesses testifying to a crime the defendant may or may not have committed. My life is not Law and Order after all. I guess that's the price I have to pay for being an American citizen.
I sit on my couch and open my laptop, trying to search for ways to get out of jury duty. "Let's see. Google. How to get out of jury duty. Wikihow." Well the first suggestion is to prove financial hardship. I mean yeah I could be better, but I mean I'm not having any financial hardships. Albeit I don't really like my job, it pays well, so well in fact that I was able to upgrade my house, and I'm able to afford the shipping on everything that I need, though most of it is free after I spend a certain amount. The only downside is that I have to be courteous to people, but thank goodness it's over the phone where I only have to sound courteous and not look like it, because I surely don't. And no offense, but talking to women all day and hearing about their self-esteem issues is so not my cup of tea. I mean I'm good at faking interest in their conversation and pretending to give a damn that I've been offered to be promoted several times. The only problem is that I'd have to actually drive there and manage people and their productivity, which I could do, but until I can control my transformation, I'm going to try to avoid the public.
Well wikihow suggests that I should try to move the date. I look at the letter the state gave me and saw that the number was on the top right along with their mailing address. I'd rather get this over with now while I'm thinking about it, so I go over to the phone receiver and pick up the phone. I dial the number and put it up to my ear, hearing the phone ring three times before a woman on the other end solemnly greeted me.
"Hello yes I would like to move my jury duty date to a later period in time," I replied in the same tone of voice she voiced at me.
"May I know the case number?" she asked. I looked down at the paper containing the jury duty notice, and I read the numbers to her and heard a sharp gasp on the other line.
"I'm sorry but you can't move your date, everyone selected must attend no matter what," she gasped nervously.
"Why, what's so important about this case?" I questioned her, annoyed that I would have to go to jury duty.
"This is a high level priority one case, no one is allowed to get out of serving jury duty, and if someone tells anyone else that they'll be in the case of the century, they'll be arrested and locked away for five years without parole. We want to guarantee that there is no corruption in this case."
"You still didn't tell me who the state is prosecuting," I argued, annoyed with it all.
"Oh, this isn't the state that's prosecuting him, it's the federal government. Do you know the Rashkolnikov killer?"
Suddenly everything made sense. Rashkolnikov, who got his name based of the character in Crime and Punishment, was a Russian ultranationalist and a terrorist who has been on a reign of terror from the east coast to the west coast since December 2019, killing civilians in malls, airports, massive business centers, and he's even walked into broad daylight in times square and opened fire onto the crowd of people. His accomplices have already been caught and arrested; making him America's most wanted. He's even systematically rigged Trump tower to blow, killing over two thousand people. There are thousands of people's blood on his hands, and it seems like he simply doesn't care.
Russia is somehow involved in a three-way war: Putin's fascist army being the smallest but most trained out of all of them, being backed by the Vietnamese and Syrian government, the communist ultranationalists who want to go back to days of the Soviet Union led by someone who is unknown to the world and is backed by the Chinese government, and the white nationalists who are advocating for a greater democracy of Russia, being backed by the United States and NATO. The ultranationalists are the largest with the nationalists right on their tail, plunging Russia into a devastating civil war. The ultranationalists are pissed at the US involvement in the war, so they recruited what was left of ISIS to carry out suicide attack around the world with a promise to help them build a caliphate in the Middle East.
Trump won the 2016 presidential election and basically pushed for greater military action against ISIS. With his policies on immigration, the supreme court allowed him deport those 11 million illegal immigrants unfortunately; however, their children born in the states were granted US citizenship and can come back whenever they want if they have the funds, which Trump was displeased with. With most of the cheap labor gone, it still didn't do anything useful because the jobs the immigrants were doing were jobs Americans did not want to do. So Trump created more government jobs creating weapons, thus helping the economy getting back on its feet. Within two years ISIS was all but destroyed, but that was when tensions in Russia broke out into all out war. To insure that the world's second strongest nuclear power didn't fall into the wrong hands, Trump intervened on the side of the nationalists in that should we finally win the war, we'd have better relations with the Russians. Greece finally got out of its debt as the European Union paid for the weapons they were creating. All of the world's important powers were involved, and one screw up could lead to another world war.
"Hello? Did you hear me?" the receptionist asked, bringing me back to reality. "Do you know who the Rashkolnikov killer is?"
"Yes, yes I do know him," I answered, annoyed, "And I understand why I can't get out of jury duty. Good day." I slammed the phone back on its receiver and slumped onto my couch. I was sick with it all, and decided to take a nap so my mood would pass.
I woke up and went upstairs to my room and looked in the closet, looking to see if I had any clothes to wear for the trial. I didn't really have anything; I didn't really need to go to important places so most of my clothes were just band shirts and flannels with a side of skinny jeans, I probably had like one polo, but no pants or dress shoes. With the court date so close, I won't be able to have everything shipped in time, plus I may need to try some stuff on. Ugh I have to go out and be with people. I don't want to go alone, so I go through my phone contacts to pick the perfect candidate. Ah Stacy! Although she was very annoying chatter box, she knows fashion better than the average metrosexual, so I'd need her help. I shot her a text and she replied, saying that she'd be happy to go shopping with me.
Stacy came over at around two and picked me up. We drove to Plato's closet and on the way there we caught up, and she talked about her new boyfriend and how perfect he is. We finally got there, and she went behind me and looked at the tag on the back, then she was off. She came back five minutes later with an assortment of Ralph Laurens. She gave them to me to hold then looked at the back of my jeans and was off again. I sat down near the fitting area and patiently waited for her return. She came back with several pairs of khaki pants and a brown belt. She tossed them to me and told me to try them on while she went to get some shoes to match the outfits. Stacy came back, and I presented her with each look and either got a nod of approval or disapproval. We were there for about thirty minutes until all the clothes I tried on were approved by Stacy. I did the calculations and the clothes came up to $150.
"Hey do you still have you stamp card?" I asked.
"Yea, you know I'm always shopping Glare," she replied laughing. "Why, do you need it?"
"It would be nice, anyway, if you let me use it, you could get what you want up to $50 in here," I baited, and she took the bait. She ran off and came back with even more stuff than I did and tried them on. I could hear her in the fitting room saying, "Ooh this is cute," or "Why in the hell did I get this." After several trips back and forth into the fitting room she came out with a bunch of clothes and shoes. Fortunately for us there was hardly anyone there, so we walked to the counter and laid our stuff together. While the clerk was ringing up our items, Stacy pulled out her stamp card while I pulled out my bank card. When the clerk finally ringed up our items Stacy handed over her stamp card, then once the twenty percent was taken off, I paid the rest with my bank card. We carried her bags to her car and got in.
"I don't see why you didn't go to Ross, I mean their stuff isn't worn for a low price, but I guess Plato's is lower then. That and the fact that you don't care for wearing used clothes, seeing as how you never go anywhere," Stacy began. I could tell she was about to go on another one of her rants, so I cut her short and answered her question.
"Yes I don't care about wearing pre-owned clothes, but that's not the only reason we went to Plato's. I need to go to Men's Warehouse for a suit," I interrupted.
"Oh?" she looked at me curiously, "What for?"
"I'm thinking about dating," I lied, "and I need a good picture for my tinder profile, that and the fact that I want some formal wear in case we go to a very exquisite restaurant."
"D'aww!" she exclaimed, "That's so cute! I'd love to take you to Men's Warehouse so you can finally stop being a hermit and finally get a girlfriend, or boyfriend."
We finally to Men's Warehouse, and we were greeted a very stocky pig, he was very tall, and his snobbish face made him look all the more intimidating. He looked at me in disgust and spat, "I'm sorry, but we only want real customers here, not people who come and waste my time by simply wanting to look. The door is right behind you in case you forgot."
He began to walk away when I took hold of his arm and argued through gritted teeth, "I have over five thousand dollars in my bank account, and I would prefer it if you didn't judge a book by its cover you snob. Now that I have your attention, I want you to measure me and get me some white formal wear. Step on it porky!"
The swine very grudgingly measured me then went to the back and pulled out some white suits and pants. We went back to the corner and I went into the fitting room and tried them on, with Stacy giving me a thumbs up or thumbs down. Stacy, sensing the tension in the air, started talking about an upcoming event with the pig.
"So I heard that the Rashkolnikov trial is supposed to start soon," Stacy addressed.
"Yes, I know, and I hope the bloody bastard is sentenced to death. I had a few friends who died in the attack on Times Square," the stocky pig replied bitterly.
"It's gonna be difficult to find a way to execute him since Switzerland decided to withdraw a crucial ingredient to the lethal injection cocktail."
"It's funny how they find it inhumane, yet they helped the Third Reich back in World War Two. I hope they use the guillotine on him. They haven't used that since the 70s, and I would really like to see them pull it out again."
"Personally I hope that we hang him," Stacy replied, putting her intake on it.
"I hope we execute him via firing squad, our boys need some target practice for overseas," I added my intake on it. I continued showing Stacy each outfit and we began our process of elimination while Stacy and the attendant decided to talk about the war in Russia and how it could possibly bring about another world war. Finally it came down to two, and Stacy couldn't decide between them, so I bought both. The attendant was surprised when the payment cleared and apologized for his earlier remarks. Stacy took me home and told me to call her next time I want to go on a shopping spree again before driving off. Well the trial starts in a few days, might as well enjoy some me time until then.