If a wise man goes to court with a fool, the fool rages and scoffs, and there is no peace (Proverbs 29:9).

Tim and his lawyer were confident in their case; no reasonable judge could avoid ruling in their favor.  In fact, in the final moments leading up to the hearing, Tim felt at ease for the first time in months -- knowing that the stupid argument between neighbors was finally going to be resolved, one way or another.  That morning, Tim had woken early, dressed in a conservative charcoal-gray suit, picked up some coffee on the way to the courthouse, and chatted amicably with the lawyer about expectations for the trial.  There was NO WAY, said the attorney, that Tim could be penalized for the fact that his neighbor failed to restrain his dog.  City ordinances spoke clearly on the matter.  Clearly, it was the neighbor's failure to restrain his dog which resulted in the accident, which resulted in the damage to the front end of Tim's Volvo and the unfortunate demise of the Scottish Terrier.  Jeffrey, the neighbor, could rant and rave all he wanted about the emotional trauma of losing his "puppy" (who was actually 9 years old and practically a senior citizen in dog years).  He could say the ugliest things about Tim's character -- as he had done repeatedly over the last couple of months, in informal interactions with other neighbors and even with a reporter from the local newspaper.  Jeffrey could (and the lawyer admitted that he probably would) accuse Tim of malice and recklessness and cruelty to animals.  But the fact of the matter was that Jeffrey had failed to restrain his dog, and that's the only issue that really mattered in this case.  Jeffrey was simply inconsolable:  emotionally unstable, immune to logic, unaffected by apologies or promises to purchase a new canine companion (though Tim's lawyer had strongly advised that Tim cease and desist with these courses of action).  At this point, a court case was the only way to settle the question, once and for all.  The law was clearly on Tim's side, so it was satisfying for him to think that this might be the day he would win his case in court, collect his damages from the defendant, and get on with his life.

The moment that Jeffrey walked into the courtroom, however, Tim knew he had made a mistake in bringing their case to trial.

Jeffrey's moaning actually preceded him.  As the doors opened and he walked into the courtroom, however, his vocal misery was unavoidable.  All eyes turned towards him as he walked down the central aisle.  His face was unshaved and his hair unkempt.  In his hands, he held a framed 8x10 of his dearly-departed dog, "McDoodles" -- and every three or four steps, he would gaze upon the picture and fall freshly into moaning and sobbing.  For clothing, the pudgy neighbor wore sackcloth.  Literally.  It looked as though he had sewn together a couple of burlap sacks into a crude tunic which covered his torso, his midsection, and his upper thighs.  His only adornment was a large pin-on button emblazoned with the panting face of McDoodles.  The parts of Jeffrey's body not covered by the burlap sacks -- his neck, his arms, his legs -- was completely bare, though.  His skin had a dusty gray appearance to it; Tim guessed Jeffrey had smeared himself with ashes to complete the effect.  Jeffrey staggered all the way up to the front of the courtroom and then dropped into the defendant's seat as though weighed down by three times the normal force of gravity.  The judge, who had been shuffling through a stack of papers in preparation for the hearing, scowled at the clamor in his courtroom; but when he banged his gavel and demanded silence, Jeffrey managed to reduce his moaning to a low whimper which was apparently inaudible to the judge.

Tim's lawyer leaned in and urged his client to pay no attention to Jeffrey's grandstanding; even so, Tim could not help but be bothered by the spectacle.  A few minutes later, the judge instructed the bailiff to bring the court to attention and introduce the case.  The case was a civil dispute -- Timothy A. Goeller versus Jeffrey Michael Pittinger, with the plaintiff seeking material damages based on an alleged violation of Civil Ordinance 12.3.D -- so there would be no jury or witnesses, just arguments by the attorneys for the involved parties.  The prosecution went first, with Tim's lawyer presenting a clear and emotionless presentation of the facts of the case.  As Tim's lawyer spoke, the judge made a few notes, inspected the police accident report, and glanced periodically at the table where Jeffrey sat gazing at the framed photograph of McDoodles.  Tim's assessment of the situation was that the judge was impressed with the solid case that his lawyer was laying forth.  But there was really no way of knowing until he rendered his decision.  And unfortunately for Tim, the judge could not render his decision without first hearing from the defendant:  Jeffrey.

When it came time for the defense to speak, Jeffrey hissed that his lawyer should remain seated and then rose to his feat like a parapalegic miraculously healed.  He slowly raised his arm and held it pointed at the table with Tim and his lawyer.  His arm trembled but did not lower.  And with a voice laced with acid and broken glass, he cried out:  "This man is a liar!  He is a liar and a blackmailer and a murderer!  He killed my McDoodles, and then he had the gall to think that he could pay for my silence with an all-expenses-paid trip to the pet store."  He paused and spat on the ground in exagerated disgust.  The combination of mucous and saliva quivered on the floor and caught the light from the overhead halogens.  "This man is a menace to society, and I demand that he be brought to justice.  As I shall demonstrate, he has not only violated the city's traffic policies -- but he has threated the sanctity of life itself."  At this moment, Jeffrey motioned to his lawyer, who labored to lift a box of files from the floor to the surface of their table.  "In Exhibit 1 of 172, I present to the court a petition signed by 100 local citizens who have demanded that we protect our local economy and the streets of our city from the outrage of Swedish automobiles..."

Tim sighed and leaned over to his lawyer.  "I know it's going to be a long day -- or maybe even a long week -- but do you think it's too late to add a restraining order to the case?"