Our country’s legal system is out of control, choked by frivolous lawsuits that are as dangerous to the welfare of our Constitutional Republic as they are to the bottom line of self-made men such as myself. Need proof? Look no further than my former houseboy, Kang, who has apparently enlisted the aid of a sleazy bus-stop ad lawyer in shaking me down over a laundry list of trumped up allegations.
My lead attorney, Buzz Goldenrod, broke the news to me earlier via telephone.
“Oz? Buzz. Listen. I have some bad news.”
“Bad news? I don’t like the sound of that,” I replied.
“Yeah. Well. Did you by any chance employ a ‘Batukhang Chuluun’ in the recent past?”
“Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Says he was your… that can’t be right. Your houseboy?”
“Oh. You must mean Kang.”
Brief silence on the other end, followed by a low groan. And then: “Yeah. We might have some issues there.”
“Nonsense,” I assured him. “I took care of that weeks ago.”
“Well, that’s part of the problem. I’m reading over the criminal and civil charges he’s brought against you, and he says that you… let me see… ‘terminated his employment by tossing him out of a moving vehicle?'”
“I don’t recall the details.”
“Okay. And before that, he alleges that you refused to provide him with medical assistance following a workplace accident that resulted in the loss of his left hand? The workplace being your home?”
“Hard to say. Besides, he was an independent contractor. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I had no responsibility to provide him with anything except an hourly wage.”
“Well, true. But if this did happen in your home, it could be a liability. Especially given that he’s only 16. Speaking of which…”
“He’s claiming you brought him into this country at the age of 13 to use as, in the words of his representation, ‘slave labor?'”
“Now that’s a goddamn lie. The slave labor part, I mean. The boy received a salary in exchange for his services. And he was free to leave whenever he wanted.”
“Jesus,” Buzz muttered, followed by several seconds of heavy breathing. Finally, he continued. “Alright. So we have our work cut out for us on this one. Just a few other things I need to ask.”
“Um. No comment.”
“Alright. Great. That’s just super, Oz. Just fan-freaking-tastically super! Tell you what. I’ll get to work on this, and let you know what I come up with. Sounds good? Sounds great to me! Thanks for everything!”
With that, the line went dead. Frankly, I didn’t like the tone of Goldenrod’s voice towards the end there, but there’s not much I can do about it. For one thing, he’s the best damn lawyer in the tri-state area. For another, he knows where far too many bodies are buried. Literally.
At any rate, no time to worry about it now. Wednesdays are always two-for-one night down at Pete’s Poontang Emporium, and I’ve never missed one yet. OZ-1 out.