Work Text:
Ranboo Beloved VS. The State
The defendant was accused of First Degree Culinary Crimes against Humanity. The prosecution argued that Ranboo Beloved was the perpetrator of the Offense, a bowl of cereal to which a bag of cold spaghetti had been added. The defense argued that he was not responsible.
The following are excerpts of court proceedings, as transcribed by Niki Nihachu, stenographer. A full transcript of court proceedings can be requested from the office of the state attorneys.
APPEARANCES
Presiding:
- The Honorable Judge Philza Craft
Bailiff:
- Sam C. Greene
For the state:
- Wilbur L. Soot (Chief Prosecutor)
- Thomas D. T. C. K. B. M. Innit (Assitant Prosecutor)
For the defense:
- Alex J. Quackity (Chief Defense Attorney)
- Tubbo F. Underscore (Assistant Defense Attorney)
Defendant:
- Ranboo E. Beloved
Outside Witnesses:
- T. Blade
- J. Manifold
- J. Schlatt
[OPENING STATEMENTS]
BAILIFF: All rise for the Honorable Judge Craft.
[All present stand]
JUDGE CRAFT: Thank you, be seated. [gavel tap] This court will come to order for case number oh six six six dash six nine four two one, Ranboo Beloved VS. The State.
[A pause]
JUDGE CRAFT: [to the attorneys] Gentlemen, could we please try to get through today with no hiccups? I know we’ve had a hard time keeping it together in the past, but I want absolutely no fuckery today, you hear me? Keep it clean, keep it level, don’t go off the fucking rails.
MR. SOOT: Absolutely, Your Honor.
MR. QUACKITY: Of course, Your Honor.
MR. INNIT: Sounds good, king.
MR. SOOT: [quietly] Tommy!
MR. QUACKITY: [giggling]
MR. INNIT: Shit, sorry– sorry. Sounds good, Your Honor, sir.
JUDGE CRAFT: [quietly] It’s going to be a long day.
~**~**~
JUDGE CRAFT: Prosecution, you may make your opening statements to the jury.
MR. SOOT: Thank you, Your Honor.
MR. SOOT: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today’s case is about crime.
MR. INNIT: Big crime.
MR. SOOT: Yes, big crime. Gigantic crime. Culinary crimes against humanity.
MR. INNIT: [Nodding] Very big crime.
~**~**~
JUDGE CRAFT: Defense, your opening statement, please.
MR. QUACKITY: Thank you, Your Honor.
MR. QUACKITY: Children and cowards of the–
JUDGE CRAFT: Nope.
[PRESENTATION OF EVIDENCE]
MR. SOOT: The prosecution would like to submit this as exhibit A.
[Mr. Soot brings to the bench a bowl filled with an unidentified congealed mass, contained inside three plastic bags and an evidence containment bag.]
MR. SOOT: This is the bowl of cereal to which the spaghetti was added–
MR. UNDERSCORE: Objection. That is a biohazard and should not be allowed in the courtroom.
MR. SOOT: It’s in a ziplock!
MR. INNIT: It’s in three, three ziplocks, Wilbur–
MR. SOOT: Three ziplocks–
MR. UNDERSCORE: It’s going to irradiate me! We’re going to get irradiated by that thing!
JUDGE CRAFT: Objection overruled. The spaghetti is not radioactive.
MR. INNIT: [softly] The cereal might be, actually.
~**~**~
[WITNESS TESTIMONY AND CROSS-EXAMINATION]
MR. INNIT: Could you please state your full name, for the record?
[The witness hesitates, then pulls the microphone closer to himself. A squeal of feedback is heard.]
T. BLADE: I plead the fifth.
JUDGE CRAFT: You can’t do that.
T. BLADE: I just did.
~**~**~
MR. UNDERSCORE: Objection!
JUDGE CRAFT: For fucks sake, what is it?
MR. UNDERSCORE: An interjection of disagreement usually made to inhibit or undermine the opposition, but that’s not important right now.
~**~**~
MR. INNIT: And why did you think Ranboo was the one to do it?
T. BLADE: He was talking about weird stuff under his breath the other day. I dunno, man. I couldn’t make out all of it, but he was acting odd. He was saying stuff like, “I should do it! No, we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t,” or “it won’t hurt us, it won’t,” y’know? Like, again, not super clear, but he was wandering around muttering and mumbling and stuff.
MR. INNIT: Do you associate Ranboo with the sound of falling sand, Mr. The Blade?
~**~**~
BAILIFF: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
J. MANIFOLD: No.
JUDGE CRAFT: Mate, you have to swear.
J. MANIFOLD: I don’t want to.
BAILIFF: It’s the rules.
J. MANIFOLD: I don’t like rules.
~**~**~
MR. SOOT: What is your birthday?
R. BELOVED: February 29th.
MR. SOOT: What year?
R. BELOVED: Only some of them.
~**~**~
MR. QUACKITY: You’ve been sworn in, correct?
R. BELOVED: Yeah, dude, you – you were right there.
MR. QUACKITY: So you can’t lie.
R. BELOVED: No? No. Not legally, right?
MR. QUACKITY: Not legally. And you’re aware of the penalties for perjury?
R. BELOVED: I’d…go to Hell?
JUDGE CRAFT: You’d go to jail, first.
~**~**~
MR. QUACKITY: Since you’ve been sworn in, if I ask you a question, you can’t lie about it.
R. BELOVED: Yeah.
MR. QUACKITY: Okay. So did you do it?
R. BELOVED: No I did not. I did not do it.
MR. QUACKITY: [to the jury] See? See? He can’t lie! He can’t lie, guys! He didn’t do it.
MR. INNIT: [quietly] Shit. Shit. We can’t argue with that, Wil.
MR. UNDERSCORE: [to the jury] Case closed, kings, if you ask me.
~**~**~
MR. QUACKITY: The defense calls Tubbo Underscore to the stand.
[Mr. Underscore takes the stand and is sworn in.]
[Mr. Quackity sits down again and Mr. Underscore stands, walking back to the floor.]
JUDGE CRAFT: Hold on – what are you doing?
MR. QUACKITY: Oh, I can’t do the examination, Your Honor.
JUDGE CRAFT: Why not?
MR. QUACKITY: We’re working on this case together. It’s a conflict of interest.
MR. UNDERSCORE: Yeah. We want it to be fair, right?
JUDGE CRAFT: Who…who will be examining the witness?
MR. UNDERSCORE: I will.
MR. QUACKITY: My partner will.
JUDGE CRAFT: You mean Mr. Underscore?
MR. QUACKITY: Yeah – I mean, yes, Your Honor.
JUDGE CRAFT: You want Mr. Underscore to question himself?
MR. QUACKITY: Yes, Your Honor.
MR. SOOT: [raising his hand] Objec–
MR. INNIT: [grabbing his hand to keep it lowered] Don’t, this will be funny.
~**~**~
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor] And how do you know the defendant?
[Mr. Underscore runs to the stand and sits down.]
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the stand] We’re roommates.
[Mr. Underscore runs to the floor, picks up his notes, and faces the stand.]
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor] Why are you roommates?
[The movements repeat.]
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the stand] Because we’re married.
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor] As Ranboo’s husband, do you know him well?
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the stand] Yes.
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor, out of breath] Since you know him well, you would be able to speak to his character?
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the stand, out of breath] Yes, I would.
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor, very out of breath] Do you think… [deep breaths] …that he did it?
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the stand, extremely out of breath] N–no. He…[heavy breathing] …he’s too poggers.
MR. UNDERSCORE: [from the floor] The…[Mr. Underscore leans over to press his hands against his knees, breathing hard] …the defense…rests.
~**~**~
MR. SOOT: Could you please state your full name for the record?
J. SCHLATT: I plead…the Second! [The witness produces a handgun from his jacket.]
MR. SOOT: Oh shit!
MR. INNIT: [overlapping] What the fuck?
MR. QUACKITY: [overlapping] He’s popping off, he’s popping off–
JUDGE CRAFT: [gavel bangs] Bailiff!
~**~**~
MR. SOOT: The prosecution calls Thomas Innit to the stand.
[Mr. Innit takes the stand and is sworn in.]
JUDGE CRAFT: He’s not allowed to question himself, Wilbur.
MR. SOOT: Don’t worry, Your Honor, we would never do something so unprofessional.
MR. INNIT: Yeah. We’re– we’re the kings of professionalism, we are.
JUDGE CRAFT: Fine. You can continue.
MR. SOOT: Thank you.
MR. SOOT: [to Mr. Innit] Do you consider yourself a good judge of character, Mr. Innit?
MR. INNIT: I do, Mr. Soot.
MR. SOOT: How well do you know the defendant, Mr. Innit?
MR. INNIT: Not very well, Mr. Soot.
MR. SOOT: How about the defense council, Mr. Innit?
MR. INNIT: Well, I know them very well, Mr. Soot.
MR. SOOT: So, would you say that Mr. Quackity is a good lawyer?
MR. INNIT: No, I would not.
MR. SOOT: Would you say that Mr. Quackity is a little bitch boy?
MR. INNIT: [leaning into the mic] Yes.
MR. QUACKITY: Hey–
MR. SOOT: Would you say that he’s a little shit? A little stuck-up lawyer who doesn’t know what he’s doing?
MR. INNIT: Yeah, I would!
MR. QUACKITY: Wait, guys–
MR. SOOT: Would you call him a fucking idiot? Would you say he sucks at his job?
MR. INNIT: I would, I would, yeah! I would call him ugly and shitty and a bad fucking lawyer. You’re so damn correct, Wilbur!
MR. QUACKITY: Guys, guys please–
MR. SOOT: And, Mr Innit!
MR. INNIT: Yeah?
MR. SOOT: Would you tell him he sucks? Do you think he’s a terrible lawyer?
MR. INNIT: Fuck yeah!
MR. SOOT: Do you agree that he’s a terrible person? Do you agree that he’s not to be trusted?
MR. QUACKITY: Guys, please – guys –
MR. INNIT: Yes! Yeah, Wilbur! Yeah!
MR. SOOT: Do you agree that he should kiss me on the mouth?
MR. INNIT: Yeah– wait, what?
~**~**~
[CLOSING ARGUMENTS]
MR. INNIT: Mothers and Fuckers of the jury–
JUDGE CRAFT: Absolutely not.
~**~**~
MR. UNDERSCORE: Denizens of the jury. Citizens of the juror's box. Comrades, if you will.
MR. SOOT: They won’t.
MR. QUACKITY: Nobody asked. Literally nobody asked you. No askers. No askers anywhere.
MR. UNDERSCORE: Proletariat of the jury, people change like the tides in the ocean. At least, I think. Or, am I dead wrong? That’s for you to decide.
~**~**~
[TRANSCRIPT ENDS]
Ranboo Beloved was found guilty and sentenced to sixty-nine and a half years in prison. Since the time of his incarceration, he has written three cookbooks, all of which have been banned from government-funded elementary schools. He was barred from taking cooking classes with other inmates after attempting to combine a hotdog and a hamburger.