I don't own Monk or Trudy. I do own the judge
The judge looked at Trudy with fake sympathy.
"You see dear," she told her, "I'll like to believe you're innocent but there's too much evidence against you"
"It's retarded evidence," Monk yelled
The judge glared at him.
"Mr. Monk did I ask you your opinion"
"No," Monk admitted, "but I don't care"
"Mr. MONK SIT DOWN NOW"
Monk glared at her and sat down.
"I am afraid," the judge said, "I'm going to have to sentence you to sixteen months in San Francisco correctional facility and a formal punishment every Monday and Wednesday."
Trudy gasped quietly
"THE HELL THAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN," Monk roared
"Mr. Monk as I have explained to you before SIT DOWN" "And as I will explain to you FUCK YOU"
"You know what," the judge said coldly, "I had enough of you. I think I am going to change the sentence. It is the same sentence but instead of her serving the sixteen months it will be you"
Trudy gasped again.
"I'd be glad to," Monk contended, "but let's admit what this is really about" "What do you think this is about," the judge asked "This is about the fact that I arrested your daughter 3 years ago"
"Is it?"
"There's just one difference," Monk replied, "SHE broke the law. Trudy didn't"