Of course with these most accursed looks of mine, I should have fully expected to be confused with a mass murderer sooner or later. Mine is a most Twisted and accursed tale, you see.
The policemen in my local precinct picked me up several years ago, based upon a most irrational Accusation. The wheels of Justice do grind mercilessly upon nature’s oddballs.
After quite an obscenely long wait, I was at last granted, grudgingly, a Trial. The Plaintiff, Estelle Rigault, was bitterly scornful and resentful of me. As she walked triumphantly into the Courtroom, she flaunted all her hoity~toity airs and graces.
Her Royal Self~Appointed Majesty hurled every possible invective at me, determined to Testify that I was Involved with something that was so completely impossible for me. Her Contempt for my supposed inferiority led her to feel free to do as she pleased to me.
My Defense Attorney, of course, was a joke. He was deliberately assigned to my case, knowing it would be to my detriment. In spite of my having produced a perfect Alibi~the fact that the murders had all been committed countless miles from anywhere I had ever set foot~all attempts to Testify on my behalf were conveniently crushed. Perjury ran rampant. Any claim that the law treats folks fairly hereabouts is quite a canard.
Everyone resents me merely because I stand out in ways folks don’t approve of.