truth—would lie\ Please tell
me that's not what's going on here, Herman?"
"Well, Your Honor, technically, what I said was . . ."
"Herman, I want a straight answer. Who and what is
the Danaus Plexippus Foundation? And I don't need a snow job. Your motion to
amend calls them a research group. Yes or no?"
"Danaus plexippus is Latin for 'butterfly,' Your Honor."
"Literae scriptae manet is Latin for 'never put b.s. in
writing.' " She held up his motion as proof.
"Your Honor . . ."
"Yesssss, Herrrrmannn?" drawing it out dangerously.
Herman couldn't finish. His mind was a blank. Suddenly he felt
another arrhythmia coming on—the same sluggishness and lightheadedness.
"Are you on the board of this thing, Herman? Is this a sham
foundation?"
Herman stood before her, head down, face reddening, heart racing.
"I can go to the Corporations Commissioner in Michigan and
get the filing with a list of its officers. Don't put me through that."
"Your Honor, I have the right, as a U.S. citizen with access
to the federal court system, to file a suit on behalf of a corporation I happen
to control," he protested.
"That's a fact. But you don't have the right to file a false
affidavit in my court and lie to me about it. I'm holding you in contempt and
I'm throwing this whole mess out. I won't hear a case where one of the
principal attorneys before me is filing bogus paper. Furthermore, Herman, I
think you and I have come to the end of the road. I can't tell you how angry your
courtroom behavior makes me. I have been wracking my brain, trying to think of
a way to demonstrate my displeasure to you."
"Your Honor. . ."
"Shut up!" she ordered, and now he feared the worst.
"I'm going to apply Rule Eleven of the U.S. Code of Civil
Procedure." Rule Eleven gave a sitting judge the right to discipline
lawyers for filing frivolous, groundless, or harassing lawsuits.
"Your Honor, this isn't a Rule Eleven situation. This lawsuit
has legal merit. I would like to meet with you in chambers to discuss
this," Herman said.
"I'm sure you would, but that isn't going to happen, Herman,
at least not today. So you'll get the point, the fine I'm going to attach to
this incident is in the amount of one million dollars."
Herman heard a sharp intake of breath
from Susan and even from a few of the defense attorneys seated behind him.
"What?" Now Herman's heart was beating so fast
it was tickling the inside of his throat. He could feel his arteries expanding
and contracting with each rapid heartbeat.
"A million dollars, Your Honor? I've never heard of a Rule
Eleven penalty exceeding ten or twelve thousand dollars. You can't be . .
."
"You're damn right I'm serious!" she interrupted.
He glanced back at Susan, who had a defeated look on her face. She
found his eyes, but shook her head sadly. They didn't have anything close to
a million dollars.
"I'm going to arrange for a meeting in my chambers tomorrow
with an order to show cause why such a sanction should not be imposed. My clerk
will get in touch to set the time. Do not be late, Mr. Strockmire." It was
the first time she had used his surname. Then she cleared her throat and
started to rise, but hesitated. "One more thing," she said, looking
down at him like Moses from the mountaintop. "I've been made aware of your
spat with the California Bar. I'm going to write them a letter detailing this
incident, to be included in that file. Case dismissed. Witness is
excused."
Melissa King banged her gavel, got up, and waddled off the
platform. All eyes followed her as she made her way through the back door to
her chambers, slamming it shut as she exited.
Herman was left in the center of the courtroom, his tired body
sagging. He began to feel woozy. The
me that's not what's going on here, Herman?"
"Well, Your Honor, technically, what I said was . . ."
"Herman, I want a straight answer. Who and what is
the Danaus Plexippus Foundation? And I don't need a snow job. Your motion to
amend calls them a research group. Yes or no?"
"Danaus plexippus is Latin for 'butterfly,' Your Honor."
"Literae scriptae manet is Latin for 'never put b.s. in
writing.' " She held up his motion as proof.
"Your Honor . . ."
"Yesssss, Herrrrmannn?" drawing it out dangerously.
Herman couldn't finish. His mind was a blank. Suddenly he felt
another arrhythmia coming on—the same sluggishness and lightheadedness.
"Are you on the board of this thing, Herman? Is this a sham
foundation?"
Herman stood before her, head down, face reddening, heart racing.
"I can go to the Corporations Commissioner in Michigan and
get the filing with a list of its officers. Don't put me through that."
"Your Honor, I have the right, as a U.S. citizen with access
to the federal court system, to file a suit on behalf of a corporation I happen
to control," he protested.
"That's a fact. But you don't have the right to file a false
affidavit in my court and lie to me about it. I'm holding you in contempt and
I'm throwing this whole mess out. I won't hear a case where one of the
principal attorneys before me is filing bogus paper. Furthermore, Herman, I
think you and I have come to the end of the road. I can't tell you how angry your
courtroom behavior makes me. I have been wracking my brain, trying to think of
a way to demonstrate my displeasure to you."
"Your Honor. . ."
"Shut up!" she ordered, and now he feared the worst.
"I'm going to apply Rule Eleven of the U.S. Code of Civil
Procedure." Rule Eleven gave a sitting judge the right to discipline
lawyers for filing frivolous, groundless, or harassing lawsuits.
"Your Honor, this isn't a Rule Eleven situation. This lawsuit
has legal merit. I would like to meet with you in chambers to discuss
this," Herman said.
"I'm sure you would, but that isn't going to happen, Herman,
at least not today. So you'll get the point, the fine I'm going to attach to
this incident is in the amount of one million dollars."
Herman heard a sharp intake of breath
from Susan and even from a few of the defense attorneys seated behind him.
"What?" Now Herman's heart was beating so fast
it was tickling the inside of his throat. He could feel his arteries expanding
and contracting with each rapid heartbeat.
"A million dollars, Your Honor? I've never heard of a Rule
Eleven penalty exceeding ten or twelve thousand dollars. You can't be . .
."
"You're damn right I'm serious!" she interrupted.
He glanced back at Susan, who had a defeated look on her face. She
found his eyes, but shook her head sadly. They didn't have anything close to
a million dollars.
"I'm going to arrange for a meeting in my chambers tomorrow
with an order to show cause why such a sanction should not be imposed. My clerk
will get in touch to set the time. Do not be late, Mr. Strockmire." It was
the first time she had used his surname. Then she cleared her throat and
started to rise, but hesitated. "One more thing," she said, looking
down at him like Moses from the mountaintop. "I've been made aware of your
spat with the California Bar. I'm going to write them a letter detailing this
incident, to be included in that file. Case dismissed. Witness is
excused."
Melissa King banged her gavel, got up, and waddled off the
platform. All eyes followed her as she made her way through the back door to
her chambers, slamming it shut as she exited.
Herman was left in the center of the courtroom, his tired body
sagging. He began to feel woozy. The
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