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Till Deathstar Do We Part

Real Life, Eggtown USA

Dearly beloved Eggtown residents,

I will sadly have to step out for awhile to deal with some heavy personal issues. Fear not, however, I will be back. In my absence, Carol will be playing moderator, so listen to the babysitter. What she says goes. Remember to feed the cat. No wild parties. Keep the treehouse clean. I might be able to drop in and “conversate,” but probably will not be writing any new posts for a bit. But like I said, I will definitely return. Use this thread to discuss any new developments that…develop…

Until later,
Eggy-O

Mr. Martinez Cooks a Hell of a Goose

-W.O.W., Arizona

Juan “The Prosecutor” Martinez ruled the Maricopa Courthouse Grill today. And it was good. The aroma of roasting demon goose wafted from the courthouse and soon encircled the whole globe like a cleansing incense. Juan may as well have been wearing a chef’s hat and apron that said “Kiss ‘The Prosecutor,'” because his squeeing groupies outside will go absolutely crazy after hearing his closing argument. 

The master chef don’t need no stinkin’ recipe. He must have a photographic memory, because he stood spinning Jodi on the rotisserie for about seven hours without referring to a single note. And his closing was cohesive, passionate, and thorough. He shined the bright light of truth on Stabby Einstein’s mountain of lies, and connected every single dot flawlessly to expose her for the diabolical monster she is. And Stabby definitely no-likey hearing the truth about herself. 

The succubus in human form doodled with a palpable rage at the defense table, seething in her own furious juices as Juan spelled out his case for premeditation. Her scribbling only grew more intense as he drove each point home, until finally she started smirking, shaking her head, giggling, and muttering to herself in the bubble of arrogance she likes to call victimhood. Like your typical battered woman.  

Demons have no idea how to cry like real people. Under the mistaken impression that tears come from the nasal passages, Stabby rubbed her nose repeatedly in an attempt to turn on the waterworks, as Juan displayed graphic autopsy pictures of Travis. Epic fail. At least learn how to fake it right for our benefit, Rudolph. And we can see you playing peek-a-boo with every picture of your handiwork, so wipe the “duper’s delight” smirk off your face along with the fake tears, because you’re fooling nobody. 

Homecoming Queen contender Jenny must have pulled an all nighter perfecting her super professional eyerolls and sneers in the mirror, because she looks beat. But not too beat to practice her classic headshot pose over at the defense table, with her chin resting gently on her curled fist. And NEVER too beat for a sidebar objection, even in the midst of closing arguments. After all, a teen modeling scout could be watching. 

Classy Heavy D actually giggled when Juan mentioned Travis was naked when he was killed. So we can definitely expect him to get down and dirty tomorrow with his porn obsession when the defense presents their closing fairytale. 

But for now… Enjoy the fire-licked rotisserie goose cooked to perfection by Mr. Martinez. 

Wash, Rinse, Repeat: Typhoid Lindsay Gets Another Deal

-Ridongculousville, CA

Looking like a haggard ghost on her way to haunt a disco, elegant flower Lindsay Lohan rolled into a California courtroom this morning for another episode of her never ending legal drama. Among the cracked out highlights:

1. Late Sunday night, the paranoid cokehead ditched her commercial flight from New York to L.A., screeching about an alleged gas leak and/or gremlin on the airplane. Rather than just book another flight with the poors to make it to her own trial on time, she spent the next few hours begging all of her rich johns to fetch her a private jet. Because its much easier to do drugs when you have some privacy. A few sloppy handjobs later, the owner of Mr. Pink Energy Drink & Escort Services shelled out $50,000 for her cross country caper. 

2. Leaving herself a whopping 20 minutes to get from the airport to the courthouse during rush hour traffic, she rolled in almost an hour late. But she needed that time to get primped for her only red carpet appearance in years.  She hastily threw on her wrinkled white virgin costume and diamond rosary- both of which will probably be reported stolen tomorrow from a Studio 54 museum- and emerged from her chariot in a cloud of meth smoke and gold glitter to greet her adoring public. 

3. Once inside the courthouse, her hobbit attorney and the prosecutor disappeared into the judge’s chambers to conduct a miraculous eleventh hour plea deal. Which is fascinating, considering she has adamantly refused ANY deal that includes rehab or jail time. Because its hard to chug 2 liters of vodka a day AND keep up your drug habit in either of thise settings. Meanwhile, Our Blessed Crackhead was escorted by six guards to the restroom, where she likely excreted the drugs she mules for Charlie Sheen. 

4. Her delightfully comical hobbit lawyer waved his magic wand and struck a new and improved deal for the greasy haired zombified mess.  And it’s like nothing they’ve ever tried before: 90 days of lockdown rehab, 30 days of community service, and 18 months of therapy. No driving. Drug testing anytime, anywhere. 

And that sounds totally reasonable, because rehab worked like a charm the first 5 times she went. And therapy is proven most effective on people who deny they have any problems to begin with. And she’s always shown up for community service, and taken it very seriously.  Especially that one time at the battered women’s shelter. And then again at the morgue. And it’s not like she would EVER ignore the court and get behind the wheel while intoxicated and clip a baby stroller or crash a Porsche into a semi-truck. 

Only in California… This girl could walk into court with a meth pipe, get stabby with the guards, and hump the prosecutor’s leg, and still skate….

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” – Edmund Burke

Dispatches From Planet Anthony

-Portal to Insanity

1. Sources say Jose took one bong hit too many before work. His neurons threw up all over themselves trying to build cohesive sentences, leaving him sputtering choppy ummms and uhhhs while generally butchering the English language and stepping all over his tongue. 

2. Baez Quote of the Day:
Tough call with the plethora of linguistic gems Jose dropped, but for me its a tie between “The truth stops here,” and “Who cut the cheese.”

3. After spending the whole trial denying Caylee’s remains were ever in the trunk, and attacking the State’s “junk science” experts that proved otherwise, Jose The Hemorrhoid On The A$$ Of  Humanity kerfumbled ‘n bumbled an admission the body was, in fact, in the trunk. 

4. According to the defense, George used duct tape once. And since he’s not willing to face jail time and  anti-pedophile fever all so Casey can get away with murdering his grandchild, he’s a d*ck of a father. So he must’ve done it. Reasonable doubt. Dig it. 

5.  Jeff Ashton couldn’t hold it in anymore and finally disintegrated into the giggles. 

6. Daffy coot Cheney Mason rambled incoherently for a spell.  Most spectators could only make out something about finding his father lighting candles, and Atticus Finch asking him what he should do. Oh, and it would be unAmerican to convict this lying slut. So be a patriot. Go America!

7. Linda Drane Burdick has a remarkable poker face. 

8. After placing a gold tinsel halo atop his greasy head, Jose informed the jury that everybody but him jumped into this high-profile case for money and publicity. Thunder rumbled from the heavens above the courthouse. 

9.  The Snarling Beast at the defense table put on her best Angelina Jolie Pout for the jury. All it did was draw attention to her strange chimpanzee mouth. 

10.  Jose referred to his client as a “lying slut,” not one, not two, but three whole times. It is unclear if he will use this character assessment while pleading for Casey’s life when the jury comes back with a Murder One conviction. 

Casey Takes Pen to Paper

-Planet Casey

When she isn’t shooting frozen death glares at honest witnesses, sociopathic strumpet Casey Anthony is furiously scribbling notes at the defense table, creating a literary tapestry of her court experience. But WHAT is she writing? Egg Tree News channels it for us:

SCREW. ALL. THESE. UGLY. PEOPLE.

Jealous much? That Jennifer Aniston wanna-be, Maria. Well guess what; I’m the Angelina Jolie in this equation. Nice glasses, career girl. You look stupid enough to WORK for money. Struttin in here thinkin you can steal my spotlight. Jose BETTER tell this ugly jury she didn’t want me around her man Clint. Especially after that Hot Body contest. Can you say ENVY?

Yeah, so what, so I danced around a little, big deal?! Oooh, a 22 year old hottie danced with her friends; she must have just killed someone. Stupid cops. I TOLD them, I was LOOKING FOR ZENAIDA AT FUSIAN. And the brainiac shot-girls can’t direct themselves. I was practically working.

I. WANT. MY. OWN. STYLIST.

My own mother! She won’t even look at me! And its HER fault I’m here! I’m the one who’s supposed to ignore HER. THAT’S how its worked for almost 3 years. She knows the rules: she pines away at me, and I ignore her. Oh, I am gonna MAKE that bitch look at me. I’m gonna make EVERYBODY look at me. In a tight shirt. I’ll figure somethin out.

Uggggghhh….GREEEEAAAAT… Amy. This bitch. Who does she think she is, suing me? If she was a real friend, she would let me steal from her. You just wait till Jose tells these dumbass jurors how quick you jumped on my sloppy seconds, you jealous drunkard. Two jobs?!?! I mean, really?! Haven’t you figured out how to steal for a living yet?

What is this a-hole Yuri Melich doing here? Hasn’t he ruined my life enough? Now we have to recount how he LET me lie to him just so he could arrest me for lying? That was SO traumatic for me. Jose will rip him to shreds for that.

Sweeeeeeet! Videos of me! Ooh, I look good in this Universal one. Its so obvious Allen and Melich are flirting with me. I mean, who wouldn’t? Funny how they only badger me when I don’t flirt back. They’re so mean to me. Hello, I have RIGHTS!?!?!

Note to self: You are an AWESOME liar.

Wonderful. Jailhouse visits with the whole famn damily. Let’s relive THIS. I get so sad in these, and I can’t bear to see myself cry. I’m already welling up. How could they let me sit in jail like that? I mean, would it have killed them to sell some pictures of Caylee to the media to pay my bail? It didn’t even occur to them? Really?!?! Its like I don’t even matter to them.

And WHY didn’t Jose have these tapes destroyed like I told him to? What do I pay this assbag for?!

God, I’ve totally lost my tan.

Why does Jose keep telling me to cry? Now he’s got Stringbean Sims riding my ass about it too. Its so annoying.

Uggggghhhh. I HATE science. Shut up junk scientist. Ooh, but he’s talking about hair, I like hair! They should talk about my hairstyles over the years. Show more pictures of me. The car trunk is boring.

Satan Sports Long Johns, Freezerburned Pigs Fly Through Hell, and George and Cindy Anthony Tell the Truth

-Planet Casey

Wonders truly never cease. Shock and awe reverberated through the Orlando courthouse- nay, the world- last week, when Casey Anthony’s parents took to the witness stand and DIDN’T spew a gutterfull of lies on her behalf. Jose Baez’s vile excuse for an opening statement had accused George of sexually abusing Casey to the point she disconnected from reality, truth, responsibility, ethics, empathy, and basic human decency, leaving many spectators wondering if her parents would voluntarily throw themselves under the bus with their testimony. Spoiler alert: they didn’t. It appears that even beaten dogs have their limits.

Previously known only as “local fool,” local hero George Anthony stepped up to the plate and flaunted his brand new backbone when he calmly denied all of his daughter’s bogus molestation allegations. And I have to say, that backbone looks good on him; much better than the jello-on-a-slinky he’s been sporting all these years. His testimony didn’t deviate from his early statements and depositions, causing most reporters to pinch themselves and wonder aloud if they were awake.

Then wide-eyed spectators teetered on the edge of their seats as Mama Gremlin Cindy, also known as Wildcard Wanda, began testifying. Would she let Our Shackled Damsel of Doritos flush the whole family down the toilet? Or would she stand by Truth, a novel concept previously gagged and chained in the collective Anthony heart? The answer dropped jaws around the world, and for once in the history of this case, that was a good thing. Cindy didn’t lie for her.

But not everyone was happy with the situation. The pouty Elvira impersonator at the defense table threw a great big noisy fuss at the news her father and brother weren’t willing to face jail time and pesky anti-pedophile fever just so she could get away with murder, and that Cindy has some issues with the whole “killing Caylee to spite her” thing. The homicidal harlot threw a full blown temper tantrum in her booster seat. Clenched fists shook in the air as she cursed at the irrational injustice of it all.

Nobody lied. Casey cried.