It was about 9:11 PM Easter/Standard time in the third density. He drove his car with little to no regard for any laws established. He was by day a courtroom sheriff. He only stood about 5 feet 6 inches. His day went as usual. Treating every person he encountered in the courthouse as if they were guilty. Behind his back most would chuckle, and chalk his attitude up to what they would describe as lil dick issues, being so short and all. He had to be compensating for something. His wife well she left him long ago. He killed her. The beatings and the verbal abuse was just enough to send her over the edge, so regardless of the fact that she was actually still living, she really felt as if she had nothing to live for. Most days, he would work, and then frequent the local bar. The only friends that he had were his bar stool, and any new attendees of The Shock Room, not to mention his right hand which was usually used to throw back shots, and mate with his little friend when he didn't feel like paying for it. He did a double take as a woman came and sat beside him. She ordered her drink, a Strawberry Martini. As she sipped she placed a tip on the bar to show appreciation to the bartender for making her drink of choice perfectly. "Chico don't need no tip," he said, "they'll work all day for three bucks." He laughed at himself, and ordered another shot of Wiskey. The bartender, Julio, placed the shot in front of him. He was use to the commentary, so he pretended that he didn't hear. "Need another ma'am," he asked the woman? "Um, I think I'm okay for now," as she prolonged the last syllable as if to ask him his name. "Julio, My name is Julio. And, what might such a young lady as yourself be called," he asked in a respectful manner? "Heaven," she replied with a warm smile. "Ah, and a name that is truly fitting if I may say so," he replied. "My mother was told she could bare no children, so when she conceived me, for her it was like heaven, so she named me just that," she nostalgically proclaimed! "I see she didn't teach you anything, like not to fratenize with the help. That's what's wrong with the world today. People just wanna mix and mingle, and not stay in their place. Goddam lowlifes. When you done hitting on this dirty white tramp, Chico give me a double." He glanced out of the window to the sound of loud music. A pretty white Mercedes Benz was going by. "I bet that drug dealer don't got no license and registration, he commented. I gotta work my *** off all day, and these drug dealing thugs can just ride around and not pay any taxes. I wish they would all go back where they came from." "Oh, would you shut the hell up already, Chad," yelled a man from the end of the bar. "Everytime I come in here you ruin my day" "Someone has to tell it like it is, he replied." We can't count on poor white trash like you to have any balls. What do you know, you married that China girl. I don't give a **** how many restaurants her father owns, your a disgrace." "I think that's enough for tonight sir," Julio exclaimed in his normal calm tone. "Shall I call you a cab?" "I don't need no cab, Paco," he angirly replied. "I'll drive my car home like I do everynight." He paid his tab, and headed out the door. He said no good-byes to anyone, and no one much minded. They appreicated his silence. It was about midnight, as he drove down the road. After a couple of minutes of driving he felt a pain in his heart. Nothing flashed before his eyes, before he woke up. All he saw was a tunnell. At the end of the tunnell a sign hung high. It read the Shock Room. He heard a voice. "What have you done with your life," she asked? "I told it like it was." he replied. "And how is it," asked the voice? As he tried to answer nothing came out. He lost conciousness. When he opened his eyes all he saw was a heart and a feather. He doesn't remember. As a matter of fact, he doesn't even exist. The only record of his existence is the check his wife got, and this short writing of The Judgement of the Big It, who made it his duty to tell it like it is.