A one-way ticket back home, and no pancakes? This sucked!
Just as the Chinese man had said, we left bright and early the next morning.
Actually, wait, that’s not true. It was early, but it wasn’t bright. It was so early that the sun wasn’t even up yet!
The flight, put simply, sucked. There was no in-flight movie and no pancakes, no matter how many times I asked the angry American man (who I found out was an FBI agent!). There was plenty of turbulence though. Was the pilot drunk or something? It’s times like this where beer really comes in handy and helps a man pull through a tough and trying situation. What I wouldn’t have given for a nice cold mug of amber comfort right then and there! But I remembered my bet with Edwin, and I wasn’t going to give that lout the satisfaction of admitting defeat, not even in the face of adversity!
When we finally reached the United States, I was told that I’d be going in front of a federal judge for my various crimes. In the meantime, I would be held in a federal detention center in downtown Philadelphia. Well hey, at least I was finally home!
My time in the detention center was uneventful. I wasn’t allowed any visitors except for a lawyer I don’t remember hiring. And, dear Muggheads, as it turns out, they DON’T serve pancakes in lock-up either! I was batting a thousand on those flapjacks. No beer and no pancakes make Frosty a dull boy!
Finally, the big day arrived: The trial of Frosty Mugg.
On that cold November morning, I was brought into the courtroom in my orange jumpsuit by an armed guard. As I was marched to my seat at the front of the room, I saw my friends and foes alike sitting in the aisles, watching eagerly to see what would become of me. Slim was there, as was Juan and some guy I didn’t recognize. Alex and Peter were also there, along with Edwin and Barty the Bartender (whose real name is apparently Mike). In the sea of people, I also spotted the petite college girl, as well as several airbenders doing what they do best: STARING! I stuck my tongue out at them in the only act of defiance that I could pull off, what being shackled and guarded. I was led over to a table where my lawyer was waiting for me. Seriously, when did I hire this guy?!
A short moment later, and the proceedings began.
There was a lot of legal mumbo jumbo being tossed around the courtroom, and I’m still not really sure what they were trying to say. I know at some point the college girl accused me of putting salt onto batteries, which was obviously a bogus charge, because who puts salt on batteries anyway? Throughout the trial lots of foreign people gave long and boring speeches full of words like “mass genocide”, “economic turmoil”, “political instability”, and “major international incident”. The American man who brought me home made a point to tell the entire courtroom that I asked for pancakes. This guy beat the crap out of me, and I was the bad guy just because I wanted some pancakes?!
Finally it was my turn to speak. At last, a chance to clear the air and my good name!
I told the court everything. From the bet with Edwin to the looky-loo airbenders and their leader Dolly the llama to my trip across the world to my inability to just get some damn pancakes! The entire courtroom listened with interest, enjoying every second of my exhilarating epic (I hope you have too readers!!). Even the judge seemed absolutely astounded by my amazingly awesome account. Now I’m no lawyer, but I’ve seen enough movies to know how this courtroom thing works. Whoever tells the best story wins the case! And right now, ol’ Frosty Mugg was like William Shakespeare up there on that stand! To be free or not to be free, that was the question, and by God, Frosty had the answer!
Finally, I finished my story. I paused to allow for a round of applause, I even took a bow to my audience. Nobody clapped, and I was told by the judge to take my seat. The judge then called for a brief recess, saying that he needed a few minutes to decide a verdict.
This was it. This was the final countdown (doo doo doo doooo, doo doo doo doo doo doo doooo- sorry I’ll stop). Would I be let go, or would I go directly to jail, do not pass “Go”, do not collect $200?
The judgment of Frosty Mugg comes in chapter 9 of Frosty’s Sober Saga!