Had my appointment with The Judge today.

I’m feeling really weak. I still haven’t eaten. I just hope those hobos didn’t get me sick. When the counselors finally came back, I convinced them to hear my case first. The courtroom is the one part of this town that’s not falling apart. The same could not be said about The Judge.

The leader of this town was a big fat guy. I’d say between 500-600lbs. His desk was full of food wrappers and stacked plates. I could hardly defend myself. The Judge and his cronies used a lot of big words and spoke in confusing ways. Apparently I had to pay taxes, but I didn’t have any money. It wasn’t even 5 minutes before The Judge smacked his little hammer and more guys in suits carried me out of the courthouse. They said I could come back once I had some tags.

So I’m being dragged through the streets, toward the town gate, and I see this tall guy with oozing green skin. His entire body looked like it was made of dripping slime! Maybe I’m just hallucinating from lack of food because nobody else seemed to care.

The counselors tossed me out into the desert and told me to get lost. I had no idea what to do. There was nothing around for miles. No matter which direction you went, it was just flat dirt and bushes.

The good news is that a few tough guys with wagons came through the gate a few minutes after I did. They all had these black tattoos on their foreheads, looked like anvils in the cartoons. I begged them to help me. They just asked me if I wanted to be a caravan guard. I’d never held a gun, but I figured it couldn’t be too hard. Who would pick a fight with these guys anyway?

I hope they’ll give me something to eat.

-Joe Junkman