THE END OF STEVA??!!?!?!!? PART THREE

The trial was a ridiculous clown farce. As Eva's lawyer, Felvin McGee, prepared to make his closing statement, Steve felt tears of frustration streaming down his face. From the back row, he looked around the courtroom in disbelief. At the other end of the room was Lester Corman, a man widely recognized as the meanest and worst judge in Los Angeles County. The first day of the trial he had told the courtroom he wanted to "Hurry up and put Eva in jail for life, so she can't sell any more drugs to kids." And now, with the trial on its third and final day, the judge was just staring at a remote control jeep he kept next to his gavel.
In front of him, the four government lawyers on the prosecution side were obviously certain of their victory in the case of "The State of California vs. Eva the Drug Dealer." Even as Felvin began his speech, two of them were reading Entertainment Weekly, one of them was talking idly on the phone with a college buddy, and the last one was assembling a fajita.
Next to the prosecution table was the biggest travesty of all. Despite the fact that Eva had no previous criminal record, no history of violence, and was as nice and fun-loving person as there could be, the prosecution had requested and recieved a monkey-cage to imprison her in for the duration of the trial. It rested on top of the defense table, and was designed such that Steve, in the back of the court, could not even see the face of his best friend Eva. This fact alone was tearing him apart-- he wanted so much to stand up and scream and rush to the front of the courtroom and beat that fat judge until his skull was broken into a hundred pieces and his head was just a skin-bag of brain-mush and bone-chunks. But he knew if he did that he would hurt Eva's chances. And Eva needed her chances as heathly as can be.
No one looked up as Eva's Lawyer Felvin McGee began his closing statement. The all male, all white, all republican, all death-penalty advocating, all openly rascist and misogynistic jury he addressed was completely engaged in either sleeping, looking at porn, or playing with their gameboys.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," Felvin began, pushing his "FISH OR DIE" mesh hat up on his head with one finger. "Over the course of this trial you have seen evidence presented by the prosecution about a variety of different things. Evidence that the prosecution tells you is evidence of the crimes my client Eve committed. Their evidence, which they have submitted, for example, they say, proves their evidence. You have also heard them talk, on and on and on, about what their evidence means. Remember? .... Their evidence... is ... about...items...."
There was a long pause.
"Uhhhh... you see folks, this trial is like going rock-climbing in space when you're high on illegal drugs."
At the back of the courtroom, Steve bit through the tip of his tongue. How was Eva taking this? If only he could see her face!
"Hear me out," Felvin continued. "Like, I've never been to space, and I'm afraid of rocks, but if you think about it...."
For the next twenty minutes an incredibly frustrated Steve sat through what must of have been the worst closing statement in law history. It ended with Felvin individually calling each juror a shithead.
And now all that remained was for the jury to decide on a verdict. To Steve it seemed all hope was lost. Steve and Eva, Steva, the best friendship of all time, was about to be separated forever.

* * *

As the jurors filed out of the room, Felvin McGee, secretly Bruce Mlassen, Steva's arch nemesis, smiled inwardly. The trial had gone exactly according to his plan-- the evidence he had manufactured had been completely accepted by everyone, even though it was really he, Bruce Mlassen, who had sold those drugs to kids, who had photoshopped Eva's liscense plate onto a picture of a rented ford focus outside of an elementary school, and who had planted the three hundred pounds of mescaline and valium in Eva's car. A conviction of Eva for life was assured, and with her in jail and Steve out, there was no way they would ever see each other again. And if they never saw each other, their friendship would eventually fade into nothing and be destroyed. Even though he was pretending to look at paperwork, he couldn't help but chuckle a few times to himself.

* * *

Next to Felvin in the monkey-cage, Eva was enraged. Although leather straps bound her to an upright gurney, and a mouthguard and a face mask kept her from speaking, she could still hear and see. And she had seen and heard a trial that was absolutely terrible-- even worse than the months she had spent in solitary confinement waiting for it to start. But Eva was so nice that she couldn't really blame her lawyer for the disaster--she was sure he had done his best-- but she couldn't help wishing she had had a lawyer with a little more skill working on the case. Or better yet, she wished Steve had been working on the case. God, she missed her awesome friend. A single tear slipped out of Eva's eye on onto her orange jumpsuit: if she got life, she would never see Steve again.

Suddenly Eva heard something. Next to her, at the end of the long conference table, her lawyer, Felvin McGee, was chuckling happily.