This is satire; no snoring husbands were killed in the writing of this piece no matter how much their sleep-deprived wives feel they may have deserved it.
By Vonnie York
BREAKING – Acorn Falls, WI
It really was such a nice pillow.
The trial of the century, the notorious “Pillow Case” concluded today with an acquittal of defendant Lady Smitherington. Smitherington was arrested in October 2016 after her husband was found nonresponsive in the couple’s marital bed. It was quickly determined that Smitherington’s husband, Paul, had been suffocated with a 1,000 fill power European goose down batiste Cuddledown brand pillow valued at upwards of $1,300 USD.
Despite Acorn Falls’ relatively small population, the case quickly gained national attention. This was due to mistakes made by the police force, most significantly the arresting officer compromising the evidence by keeping the pillow for himself. Now relieved of his duties, former officer Lloyd Farthouse says, “I sleep like an angel on that pillow. I regret nothing.”
Somebody was going to have the bring the fun to this trial.
The other circumstance leading to the “Pillow Case’s” infamy was Smitherington’s defense, which has, from day one, consisted exclusively of singing song lyrics from the Broadway hit, Chicago. The case, along with Smitherington’s singing career, culminated in a spectacle worthy of the theatre earlier this afternoon.
Judge Julia Wallace presided over closing arguments in which state prosecutor Steve Mansplain attested that, “Paul Smitherington was a loving, devoted husband. He didn’t deserve to die. His crime—his only crime—was snoring.”
“He had it coming!” sang Lady Smitherington from her seat next to Judge Wallace.
“Get a grip,” Wallace warned.
His hobbies include facial hair and craft beer.
“Members of the jury,” Mansplain explained, turning to the jury, which was comprised of 11 women of varying ages and ethnicities and one unremarkable-looking man, “is something you lack control over worth your life?”
Mansplain pressed on, “What if your partner decided to take your life because you overcooked the roast or because you wouldn’t stop prattling on about your day or because you didn’t fold his pants just so or because you shopped too much?”
The unremarkable male juror nodded understandingly; the 11 female jurors collectively stiffened.
Oblivious, Mansplain kept going, “This man did so much for his wife. He strived to have a healthy sex life with her even after she aged naturally and put on a few pounds. He got flowers from the grocery story for her birthday most years. He complimented her dinners even when they were over-cooked or under-seasoned. He came home every day after work, and the gratitude he got was to be murdered in his sleep. Ladies and gentlemen, I implore you to convict Lady Smitherington for what she is—a coldhearted murder.”
Morgan: "Nice purse."
Mansplain: "I'd laugh if I thought women could be funny."
Judge Wallace turned to Lady Smitherington. “Do you and your defense attorney have closing remarks?”
“It was a murder, but not a crime!” Lady Smitherington sang. “He had it coming! He took a flower in its prime.”
“Speaking of flowers,” Defense attorney Tatiana Morgan interjected, “the flowers that Paul Smitherington brought for his wife were white roses, which is fine except that they weren’t Lady’s favorite flower. Her favorite flower was tulips; Lady Smitherington, in fact, has a slight rose allergy. Paul’s ex-fiance’s favorite flower was white roses.”
“An honest mistake,” interrupted Mansplain. “If you understood the meaning behind flora and color theory, then you would recognize that white roses were actually a more loving gesture than Lady Smitherington’s favorite flower.”
You can't tell, but some of his beard was singed off by that wicked Grizzly Adams burn.
Incredulous, Morgan demanded, “I’m sorry, but are you mansplaining to me, Mansplain? Sit your Grizzly Adams looking butt down before I put you in your place.”
“If you’d have been there,” rejoined Smitherington, “if you’ve have seen it….”
“As I was saying,” said Morgan, “Paul had a severe snoring condition, which a doctor could have fixed; however, because Paul did not want to have surgery, despite his wife having had a breast augmentation three years ago to satisfy his unending requests for “booby time”, the snoring worsened.
“As we have reviewed, on the night in question, after suffering for years with minimal sleep and multiple affronts to her humanity, Lady Smitherington snapped and without being fully aware of her actions, took that glorious 1,000 fill down pillow and ended her husband’s life with it. In hindsight, of course, Lady regrets her actions. She realizes that she’ll never be able to afford another pillow that nice. She knows the pillow's gone forever. By her own admission, if she could do it all over again, she’d have used a cheaper pillow.
“In closing, Lady Smitherington asks for your understanding, and I ask that you carefully consider the evidence and the circumstances and that you acquit her of any guilt in this case,” Morgan concluded.
“I bet ya’ you would’ve done the same!” Smitherington sang.
Judge Wallace pressed her fingers between her eyebrows. “Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen of the jur—“
It's all fun and games until the lions start eating the clowns.
A crackling, phlegmy snore rippled through the courtroom. Wide eyes turned to the jurors where the unremarkable man had fallen asleep. His head was flopped back on his shoulders, his mouth agape.
Pandemonium ensued. The 11 other jurors were out of their seats; Judge Wallace banged her gavel; Lady Smitherington stood and sang with her chest voice, “Give ‘em the old three ring circus. Stun and stagger ‘em.”
“Order!” cried Judge Wallace banging her gavel.
“When you’re in trouble, go into your dance….”
“ORDER!”
“Though you are stiffer than a girder, they’ll let you get away with murder….”
The Bailiff fired a warning shot, and the courtroom fell into silence.
In the aftermath, it wasn’t entirely clear who did it, and none of the remaining jury members were much on explaining the details. The coroner, a woman who’s own husband snored and occasionally mansplained, deemed both deaths accidental declaring the bullet hole in in Mansplain’s chest to have been a preexisting condition and the ligature marks around the unremarkable juror who’s name was ironically Justin Justice as not having been the causes of death.
Lady Smitherington was haunted knowing it'd be years before she could afford another pillow like that Cuddledown.
The official cause of death in both cases were determined “spontaneous and natural expiration.”
In the “Pillow Case”, the eleven female jurors unanimously voted to acquit the defendant on the condition that she stop singing.
Judge Wallace agreed with the proceedings, and with a final bang of her gavel, concluded justice had been served before immediately departing to her office for a gin and tonic.
Vonnie York is an author and sassy lady who loves books, wine, coffee, her kids, and her husband (seriously, he’s not that bad of a snorer). And the Plot Thickens is Vonnie's refuge to entertain and to commiserate with you on the absurdity of being an introverted work-from-home mom.
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