Disclaimer: Okay, Dragonball Z is nothing that I own. All I have is my extensive collection of VHS tapes... in the basement.

EVERY TIME YOU PUT A CASE IDEA INTO A PM AND SEND IT TO ME, AN ANGEL GETS HIS WINGS. AND THEN I EAT SAID WINGS. THANK YOU.

(Today's Case: Michael Jackson is suing North Kai over a monkey. That's as in-depth as I am going to go. A big hearty "thank you" to Pyjamapants for this suggestion, and keep those coming in, we need 'em.

Plaintiff: Michael Jackson

Defendant: North Kai)

"All rise for the guy in the liberace wig." Cell commanded the people. No one stood.

Justin walked briskly into the court, in casual clothing, with his hair greasy and disheveled and his tennis shoes all kinds of fucked-up looking. After pausing briefly to check under said shoes, he sat down behind the podium.

"So, this is your last day?" Justin asked Cell.

"Yes. Have you gotten a new bailiff yet?" Cell inquired curiously. I love you, thesaurus.

"No, but I'll throw the offer out there after this case is over. Hopefully, I'll get someone who can also provide their own jury. What is today's case, by the way?"

"You won't like it very much, but Michael Jackson is suing North Kai, claiming that North Kai stole his monkey."

"Oh, great. I just got back from having nightmares about the 2005 winner of the World's Ugliest Dog contest (seriously, look that dog up, I swear you won't be disappointed. His name is Sam and he is literally the most frightening thing you may ever see in real life), now I have to see M.J. in person. Send them both in."

Michael Jackson, who was wearing a kid's size bathrobe and nothing else under it, and North Kai, wearing a halo and his usual attire, walked into the court. Some people left. Gotta keep their sanity, after all.

"Well, now that my eyeballs are trying desperately to turn themselves around to face the inside of my skull, let's get started, shall we?" Justin said dryly. "What's this about, Jackson?"

"He stole my monkey! I was watching the show with some kids at my house and I saw my little monkey playing with North Kai." Jackson accused, pointing his chalky finger at North Kai, who only pointed his not-as-chalky middle finger upwards in response.

"My fucking medulla oblongata just detonated." Justin complained, gripping his forehead. "North Kai, how do you respond to this?"

North Kai cleared his throat. "I respond in this manner: Michael, you bleach-faced plastic feces roll, you understand nothing! For me to steal your monkey I would have had to travel dimensions, sneak into your house, and travel back! It's impossible to do that, so stick it in your fudgepipe, you snurd-nurgling nincompoop son of a mime!" North Kai ranted.

"He has a valid point, Jackson. In fact, I don't see how in the world this case got through our standards. I guess they're slipping." Justin said, thoughtfully.

"We don't have standards, sir." Cell informed Justin.

"Oh, that's right, we don't. Okay, then. Jackson, do you have any evidence that doesn't point to your obvious addiction to hallucinogens?" Justin asked Jackson sarcastically.

"Yes... wait, what?" Jackson said. Then asked. Then pulled out a parrot in a cage from under the desk.

"A PARROT? You skin-flake nitwitted dunce, you can't just use a bird as a witness because they are animals! Besides, you can easily train those things! You fail again, you half-polar bear devolved witless turnip green horse radish DUMBASS!" North Kai freaked out yet again.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, MEANIE, YOU'RE SCARING PAULIE!" Jackson bellowed out in a deep, demonic voice that sounded highly unnatural coming from him. "Go on, Paulie, say it." Jackson ordered the obviously frightened bird.

"SQUAWK! I want to die! SQUAWK! Kai stole! SQUAWK!" the parrot shrieked. The whole court stood silent, shocked, at the realization that Michael Jackson was it: the embodiment of craziness. He was truly the Antichrist of rational thought. Finally, Justin banged his gavel just to remind himself that he still existed in this mad world.

"Please, Jury, make a quick deci-" Justin started to say, wearily.

"NOT GUILTY! PUT MJ IN A CAGE!" they screamed simultaneously.

"Okay, Jackson, your punishment is to be shipped to a third world country." Justin declared with another bang of his gavel.

"IF YOU MAKE HIM GUILTY, I WILL GIVE YOU ONE MMMMILLION DOLLARS!" Jackson hollered out in desperation, sounding remarkably like a game show host. A game show host of a show called "WHO WANTS TO BE A PSYCHOTIC LUNATIC?"

"...No. I fell for that bribery horseshit once from somebody else. Cell, here's your last order from your former boss: Haul his pasty ass to Iran, let those guys deal with him."

Cell saluted Justin's final order and grabbed up Jackson by the back of his neck, as though he were a dog, hauling him away into the sunset. The twelve Cell Jrs. also saluted Justin as they followed their "father."

"It was sure good working with those guys." Justin said, while waving. "Well, court is adjourned, next time I'm going to get a new bailiff and jury."

THE END!

Oh, yeah, and I'd just like to make it cleat that I already know who's going to be the new bailiff and I know who the jury is going to be. So no suggestions for that, but keep those pm case ideas coming in, cause I know you guys can come up with some good shit if you try.

RIP MICHAEL JACKSON