Birthday Suit...

This is a partial transcript from the case of Newborn v World.

Gaba geeba ga bah geeb ah ga baghe ba gob-a-geeba ga ba ge ba.

Stenographic panic!  Can it be
donne?  Editing, 'Stet it!'ing transcripts
of dialectic baby-tilk?

'Sum waunes gauduh spic furr D chilles!'
'Aw shut it Jack, we've awl herd yer bullshit B fore.'
''Ee's rhyte.  Dees trayn 'as leaf us at je statione!'

Phester.  Hurther.  Lawngör-Mower. 
B*****d. 

The door opened with plausible deniability-- you can't well accuse a butler this practiced of hesitation, but are committed to reinterpreting her trepidation as some sort of a self-reflexive psychological tell of your epinosia.  The system against you from the very start.  That crinkle of the face, what did that mean again?  Consult the crib notes (those phosphatic scratches of your perduring ancestores), ah yes.  Of course, you can't believe it for a second, but what choice do you have? 

'Fendsless.  Beau-tiff-L.  Fourmal.
In a berth dei suit. 

'Watch out for you E/(D) stab-lish bed prescientdent.'
I can't stop now. 
By your own definitions, am I not essentially incapable of Men's rea?
'Estopple this tottering apostle.  This here's mudness! (echo)'

Gavel crack.  Mutter diminish.  Uncomfortable silence. 
Pretty sure no one gets out of this one. 

Cry all you want, but you ain't got no rights.
Do you not remember your sentence was for life?

Author's Note

This is the furthest I've yet strayed from convention. I think they'res good stuff out here, but it sure is hard to find.