The Only 3 People to Ever Beat Ghosts in the Courtroom
“The first recorded victory over a ghost in court was in 1801,” Madam Twilge explained. “The case started after a cobbler named Shucky Frazer kept walking into his shop in the morning to find all of his shoes tapdancing on their own. Frazer was a competitive man, and he felt the shoes were under the impression they were better dancers than he was. So, every morning Frazer would join the dancing to try to prove his superiority. The dancing would last all hours of the day, with occasional breaks for fruit punch and group pictures. Needless to say, his business went kaput, and he threw out his back — an injury that would prevent him from ever cobbling again. He sued for loss of wages and won, despite the shoes kicking him in the tuchus throughout the trial. A subsequent trial also determined the shoes were the superior dancers.
“The next person to win a legal case against the spirit world in court was Lawrence Welk in 1965. He argued that the demon possessing his trombone player was not under contract. The judge agreed and the demon was exercised from the trombone player, but the trombone player was never as good. Meanwhile, the demon went on to possess Frank Sinatra’s drummer and was nominated for a Grammy.
“The final recorded court ruling against the netherworld was in 1991 when Macy Hillmeyer convinced a jury that the ghost of Thomas Edison had taken her car out for a joyride and driven it into the side of a Del Taco. She wound up winning $30,000 in damages and the patent rights to the kinetoscope.”
I listened intently to these stories as Madam Twilge told them, resting on the edge of my seat in case they got too scary and I needed to excuse myself to the bathroom. She was a good story teller, and when she wanted to evoke an emotion she would just say, “cry,” or “sigh,” which was helpful direction.
But as much as I was enjoying the tales, I let out a lungful of air when she finally sat back in her swivel chair and began filling her mouth with grapefruit in a way that suggested she was done telling stories. It had been two days since she started and I had to go back and feed my bird.
“Well,” I said. “Of those cases, I’m guessing Hillmeyer is the only one who might still be alive enough to be able to help me?”
“Hillmeyer’s dead,” Madam Twilge said coldly. “Choked on a chicken bone; everybody told her she couldn’t swallow a chicken whole, but she wouldn’t listen.”
My heart sunk. I made a mental note to get that checked out by a physician.
“No,” Twilge continued, “the only one who might still be able to help you is Shucky.”
My heart rose back up into place (that really can’t be healthy).
“Shucky’s alive?! But you said that was in 1801?”
“I did, and Madam Twilge never lies, unless it’s on a government form. Shucky’s verdict included a clause granting him eternal life. He’s 255 years old, and boy does he hate today’s generation.”
My God, I thought. My fate lies in the wrinkled hands of a 255-year-old cobbler. I’d probably have to teach him about social media, something I know practically nothing about.
“OK,” I said. “How do I reach him?”
“That’s the thing,” Madam Twilge continued, grapefruit trickling down her jowls. “He’s on the moon.”
The next chapter of Ghost Law: The Journey To Reclaim My Childhood Home Through Due Process can be found here: