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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Defense Attorney: What is your age?

Little Old Woman: I am 86 years old.

D.A.: Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened to you?

L.O.W.: There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a
warm spring evening, when a young man comes creeping up on the porch
and sat down beside me.

D.A.: Did you know him?

L.O.W.: No, but he sure was friendly.

D.A.: What happened after he sat down?

L.O.W.: He started to rub my thigh.

D.A.: Did you stop him?

L.O.W.: No, I didn't stop him.

D.A.: Why not?

L.O.W.: It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Abner passed away
some 30 years ago.

D.A.: What happened next?

L.O.W.: He began to rub my breasts.

D.A.: Did you stop him then?

L.O.W.: No, I did not stop him.

D.A.: Why not?

L.O.W.: Why, Your Honor, his rubbing made me feel all alive and
excited. I haven't felt that good in years!

D.A.: What happened next?

L.O.W.: Well, I was feeling so spicy that I just threw my arms around
him with total abandon and said to him, "Take me, young man. Take me!"

D.A.: Did he take you?

L.O.W.: Hell, no. He just yelled, "April Fool!" And that's when I shot
the son of a bitch!
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