Rufus and The Judgment Day

RUFUS WAINWRIGHT WAS SOARING INTO THE CLIMAX OF BEAUTIFUL CHILD.

I only knew that I was dying-- on the way to meeting my maker.
Then I awoke.

It was a trap. I've been having nightmares about stalkers with knives and cellphones. Certainly one was hidden outside my bedroom door right now, ready to plunge his dagger into my jugular.

Then I realized that it was 3:25am and Rufus Wainwright was only crooning so damn loud at this ridiculous hour because my housemate forgot to turn off his alarm before leaving the country.

I'd have forgotten about it if I'd been able to fall asleep quickly after dismantling the alarm.

For about 20 minutes, I wondered if I'd conceived a child. Then hurried up to the bathroom to find out. Blood.

I was sure I'd be able to fall asleep easily after that. But then I began to consider the e-mail I received yesterday: the Judge wasn't pleased with the recommendation and really wants to hear from you. I probably need you to come in for a meeting... What does a Judge need with me?