so this is the newest chapter. i sure am writing a lot lately. i think its cuz i know its coming 2 an end so im kinda excited lol. its terribly sad and im going 2 miss it when it ends. im giving harold 2 the world of fanfiction tho. u guys can use him if u want 4 ur stories that u write. he is very well developed and id hate to see him dissapear forever when the story ends. just if u guys do use him, give me some kind of credit and send me the story cuz id LOVE 2 read haha. im not going to tell u what happens 2 harold n my story tho. u guys will find out soon enough. ha ha ha ((that was supposed 2 sound like a vampire with a creepy accent))
J.J. saw Reid wince as the doctor looked down his hospital gown. She turned away out of instinct, but she wasn't going to see anything even if she didn't turn. The doctor was on the other side, and he barely lifted the gown off Spencer's skin. She knew that the doctor was probably only being modest about it because Garcia and she were there. She used the small opportunity to text Prentiss, and let her know that Reid was awake. Hotch wanted her to let him know if anything was happening at the hospital when he left, and Reid waking up was a definite happening. From the look on his face though, he wasn't going to be awake for much longer. He looked exhausted. Why did he have to be so tired? She wanted him to wake up, and be immediately better, but he wasn't.
She felt her phone buzz with the answer that Hotch and Prentiss were on their way back. She was going to write them again when the doctor finally looked up from writing in his notes. She squeezed Spencer's hand, but he didn't squeeze back. She looked at him, and was sad to see that he was starting to fall asleep. He hadn't been awake for that long. He managed to see Garcia's stuffed animal design, and to meet that teenager, but that was basically it.
"You still awake Agent Reid?" the doctor quietly asked.
"Yes," Spencer weakly replied.
"I'm going to ask you to get some more sleep," the doctor said. J.J. watched Spencer try to stay awake, against the doctor's orders, but he slowly failed. His brown eyes shut, but J.J. never let go of his hand. The doctor walked around to the other side of the bed, and smiled when he saw that Spencer was sleeping.
"It is up to all of you to make sure that he gets his rest," the doctor said in something slightly higher than a whisper. "I don't think he's getting enough sleep, and that's what he really needs right now. He is recovering from pneumonia on top of everything he went through during his abduction. People who try to get better before their bodies are ready usually end up sicker than they were before. I don't want that to happen here. This young man can't really afford to get sick again this soon."
"So what do we do doctor?" Garcia whispered.
"Just try to be quiet whenever you are visiting him. Talking quietly shouldn't be a problem, but try to avoid loud television noises and ringing phones."
"What about his nightmares?" Rossi asked. "Should we wake him?"
The doctor looked solemn as he looked down at sleeping Spencer. J.J. pulled a stray hair away from his face, but she felt more relaxed when she heard his breathing get deeper. She wanted him to get better. She wanted Morgan's arms to heal up, and she wanted to go back home. What all of them really needed was a vacation. They needed a place to escape, but she knew none of them would get that escape until Harold was locked away forever or dead.
"I think it depends on the severity of the nightmare, but most likely, you should wake him," the doctor said. He circled around, and lightly lifted up Spencer's sheets to look at his bandaged up ankles. "Thrashing around from a violent dream could reopen the stitches, and he has a lot of those on his back." He put the sheet back down, and scribbled something else into his notes. "The one thing I don't like about waking people up from their nightmares is that they are more likely to remember what the dream was about than if they slept through it."
Well, that answer didn't help at all. She wished that she could take his bad dreams away. He didn't need to remember anything that happened. She knew that they were going to wake up the boy genius from any nightmare that he had, but she didn't like knowing that he would remember what he was running from in his dream.
No one said anything when the doctor wrote down a few more notes from the numbers on Reid's beeping machine. There was nothing more to say.
"I'll be back tonight to check on him, but his bandages will need to be changed soon. I'm trying to put it off, but some of them have blood on them. He wasn't too fond of me touching him a few minutes ago. I think it would be a good idea to have one of you in the room with him so I will let you guys decide which one. I don't think he should be left alone either," Meyer said. He smiled at them before he left the room.
Garcia sat down beside her, and Rossi sat down on the other side. All of them were lost in their own thoughts so the silence that came with the doctor's news wasn't awkward. It was a needed silence that helped give them all peace of mind. It stayed quiet until Hotch and Prentiss hurried in a few minutes later. Both of them sounded like they were out of breath, but they both saw Reid's sleeping face. J.J. was still holding onto his hand.
Prentiss sat down on the footrest of Rossi's chair, but Hotch stayed standing. J.J. wondered if any good came out talking to Harold's lawyer. Maybe this guy would bail out too, and leave Harold without a lawyer right before his trial. J.J. knew how he was being pressed for an early trial date, and that was going to happen. Harold's trial was going to be the next week, and not a single lawyer in town could prevent that.
"What happened?" Hotch asked quietly.
"He wasn't awake for very long," J.J. told them. "He was awake when his doctor came in, but he was asleep before he left."
"He needs to sleep more," Garcia added.
"The doctor wants to change his bandages," Rossi continued. "He twitched when the doctor was looking at the wraps on his back. He was almost afraid."
"Morgan is like that too," Hotch said. "Neither one of them are going to court. I don't want them seeing Harold ever again. I don't think the other survivor should have to go either."
"Susan?" Rossi asked. "She wants to go I think. I talked to her earlier. She really is something else," Rossi said smiling. "I think she should meet Morgan. They have a lot in common. I asked her to see Reid when he's feeling better."
"Aww. That's so sweet," Garcia said almost getting too loud. J.J. shot her a knowing look, and she instantly got quieter. "He'll like that. Won't he?"
"They lived through the darkest moment of their life together," Prentiss said. "That's something they will always share. It will be good for them to see each other again. They saw the face of the devil, and they survived."
"I think it's all this medication that he is on that's making him sleepy," Rossi pointed out. "Morgan was never this tired."
"Morgan doesn't always tell us how he feels," J.J. said quietly. She was still sitting next to Reid, and she didn't want to wake him up. Everyone turned towards Hotch though the second they heard his phone buzzing away.
"Hotchner," he said into the phone. "Yes, I was going to come by the station later this afternoon."
J.J. wondered what Reid was dreaming about. Did he have any idea what was going on outside the hospital? He probably couldn't even begin to fathom the media coverage on Harold's case. It was bigger than anything they had ever seen before. He wouldn't believe it if she told him.
"Yes, thank you for telling me," Hotch said. He slipped the phone back in his pocket. "Harold just attacked a police officer at the station."
"Oh my God," Garcia exclaimed. "How?"
"The officer got close to Harold's cell, and he grabbed him. The officer wasn't hurt, but Harold was still asking for Reid." Hotch leaned against the back wall and sighed.
"Unbelievable," Rossi mumbled. "Does he really think that we're going to stop by with Reid, and let them have some alone time together? What is he thinking?"
"I don't think he does think," Prentiss said.
What had Reid done to get the attention of a psychopath? J.J. couldn't understand why that creep liked poor Spencer so much. She understood that Spencer simply fit the type of people that Harold was attracted to. It had nothing to do with who he really was or what he liked, but that didn't make her feel any better. If Harold was ever released from prison, he would go straight after Spencer again. He wouldn't learn any lesson from spending time behind bars. He wouldn't change, and he would never understand how much he hurt Reid both physically and mentally. Harold needed to die.
James hung up his phone, and shoved it roughly back in his pocket after hearing about Harold attacking another officer. This guy wasn't making it any easier to defend him. The longer James waited, the less he wanted to watch those tapes that the agent was talking about. He didn't tell Ms. Caldwell that he was going to check at Harold's house. He didn't really want her to be near him anymore. She gave him bad vibes. Two officers drove him over which James did appreciate. He would get lost in the house without an escort, and it was beautiful inside Harold's front gates. The lawn was a dark green, the statues near a fountain looked peaceful, and James had to do several takes when he noticed how many garages Harold had. Apparently, there were stables somewhere on the property as well, but they were empty. Harold didn't like the smell of horses.
He stretched his legs when he got out of the car, and smelled the fresh grass and the few flowers that were blooming this time of year. He really couldn't wait to get in the house. He could barely see all the way to the top of the house when he stood on the front porch. It certainly didn't give off the feeling as a place of torture and death. He wanted to move in as soon as the case was over. He turned to look at the cops who were just getting out of the car. He didn't become concerned until he saw one of the cops sit back down.
"I'm not going back in there," James heard the cop say.
'Come on, it's not that bad," the other one bargained. "Nobody is in there anymore."
"That makes it worse. I'm not going. I'll wait out here," the cop argued.
"Fine. We won't be that long probably."
The cop who agreed to go inside climbed the stairs up to the porch while James stared at the stubborn one still sitting in the car. What was wrong with him? It was just a house. James didn't ask the other cop until they were both inside.
"Why doesn't he want to come?" James asked.
"Both of us were there the night they arrested Harold," the officer replied.
James didn't answer. He didn't want to know what it was like that night or what the cops saw that made them never want to come back. James turned to look around, and his jaw slightly dropped when he saw two large staircases leading to the upper levels of the house. He would get lost in there without a tour guide.
"What rooms do you want to see?" the officer continued.
"Let's see Harold's bedroom," James said. James wanted to see what Harold saw every morning when he woke up. It would help him understand where his client's mind set was coming from, and he wanted to look around to see if there was anything the police might have missed in their original search.
"Stairs or elevator?"
James smiled. He had never been in a house before that had elevators. He had no idea if Harold's mother had elevators in her house, but he definitely wanted to ride the elevator.
"Elevator."
"Good, I didn't want to climb all those stairs."
The elevator ride wasn't that long, but James noted the classical music playing inside the roomy compartment. Harold was a very educated man. He had distinct tastes, and the inside of the mansion reminded James more of the Victorian era more than anything else. There were not many modern pieces of furniture or electronics in plain sight. The police officer didn't look like he was very comfortable, and he kept glancing at the little map he brought of the house. Harold's room wasn't very far from the elevator, and James thought that Harold probably wanted it that way. He probably took the elevator down to breakfast each morning.
Harold's bedroom was in perfect order. The bed was still made, and a dog dish sat near the television. James saw that all of the tapes that were once there were removed along with the diary that Harold kept on his nightstand. James quickly read through the titles of the books on the shelf, and wasn't surprised to see a lot of Shakespeare. Nothing out of the ordinary stuck out to James, and James still wanted to move in if he could change things around. The lighting of the room was dim, and that would annoy James' eyes for long periods of time. The furniture looked ancient as well, but nothing was out of place. It was like a museum.
"Could you take me to where they found Harold?" James asked the officer. The cop didn't say anything, but he shook his head to acknowledge that he heard James. James shut the door behind him, and it was very eerie. He almost expected some ghost to pop out at every corner or to hear the laughter of little children. James decided right then that he would not want to spend the night alone there, but this still didn't look like the house of serial killer.
When the officer led James to a door that seemed out of place, James felt his heart start to speed up. The door opened to a long staircase that seemed to never end. That wasn't what frightened him though. The stairs didn't look like they would hold up much longer. He carefully balanced his weight on the stairs, and followed the cop up. James didn't turn around to look down. He was never fancy of heights, and this narrow staircase looked like it could kill. He was out of breath by the time they reached the top, and he took a minute to recover. When he looked up, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
The hallway didn't look like it had ever been taken care of. There were cobwebs in the corners, and the wooden floors had small holes in them. There were only three doors in the hallway, and James wanted to see what was in all three. He imagined a hallway like this to be in the Tower of London or a torture chamber in the Middle East. James didn't want to be there anymore.
"The last room is where we found him," the cop said.
"Okay, let's look in there first," James replied. He followed behind the officer like a scared kitten, and he really was expecting something to jump him when the door opened. The cop turned on his flashlight, and they went in the room together.
James was taken back by the horrible smells that overwhelmed him. He actually had to cover up his nose to keep himself from belching. What was that smell? He could definitely smell urine and sweat. James wanted to just walk out when he figured out that the last smell was blood, but he couldn't just leave. He walked further into the room, and saw an old table positioned near the center. Rusted chains hung from the walls, and James almost went into shock when he saw all of the weapons near the table. He kept his hands over his mouth as tightly as he could. What the hell was this place?
"The woman was found hanging on that wall," the officer said pointing. James went near the wall, and felt sick when he saw the chains with the little spikes on them. "The agent was found on the floor behind the table." James walked behind the table, and squatted to look at the floor. There were massive amounts of blood on the hard floor, and James could picture someone bleeding to death there. "Harold was on the floor eating his servant."
James couldn't take anymore. He ran out of the room, and he urgently looked for a bathroom, but he couldn't find one. He went to the corner, and felt the scone he ate at lunch time come back up. He puked it out, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The officer didn't say anything. James had never seen that much blood in his life, and he knew that he never smelled it before. It was almost a rustic smell, and it made James' stomach turn just thinking about it. He needed to go outside or he would puke again.
"Let's leave," James demanded. The officer looked relieved, and James almost tripped going back down the stairs. He couldn't get out there fast enough. He didn't look back, and the classical music from the elevator didn't soothe him. Even if the tapes didn't exist or the photographs that Harold sent to the FBI, James still wouldn't be able to win this case. There was more than enough evidence in Harold's little rooms upstairs.
Jude needed to make everything was planned out. He didn't have time for mistakes. Attacking a federal agent didn't leave any room for mistakes. He needed to make sure that his people knew exactly what they were doing. If this worked, the media would be convinced that the serial killer was still on the loose. Harold would have a chance of getting free.
"We are going to need a few girls to watch this woman for today," Jude started. "We need to know her schedule. We need to know when she will be alone." Jude eyed Nikki who was sitting alone on her bed. She was going to be a problem. He knew how women were, and how they liked to keep all their secrets locked up inside. He really didn't know what she told the agents or how well she liked all of them. He was not going to let that little bitch out of his sight. She could ruin everything, and he couldn't let that happen.
"I can," Ashley volunteered. "Jamie and Marissa can come with me."
"Sounds good. Watch her movements," Jude said. He was back to drawing on the whiteboard. He couldn't wait for the attack. "Figure out where she hides her gun."
"They only have guns in the movies," Josh called out from the back.
"No way, all agents have guns!" Ashley shouted back.
"She will have a gun," Jude said calmly. "We will have to find her gun. That will be her one advantage over us. Once we have her gun, she will be easy to overtake. She will probably be keeping it at her side in a holster. Make sure we don't accidentally shoot her though when we take it. She can't die that way." James drew a face on the board, and outlined the black eyebrows that Prentiss had with her dark hair. "Who wants to attack?"
Several boys started shouting out from the back, and Jude had to close his eyes to keep himself from lashing out at the idiots.
"I only need four. Let's go with," Jude said turning around from the board, "Josh, Brad, George, and um, Tony." Jude heard the high fiving from the boys in the back, and he went back to his drawing of Prentiss. "We'll have one of the girls distract her. While she isn't looking, Josh and George can take her down. Brad you will grab the gun, and Tony will knock her out. We can take her back to the shed behind my house when she's unconsciousness."
"Then who gets to rape her?" Josh asked.
"I don't see why only one person has to rape her. We can take turns," Jude said. He did want a turn. He couldn't remember the last time he had a girl of his own, and he did like the shape of Prentiss' breasts. He couldn't wait until she was under his control. She would have to beg for her life from him, and that's how it should be. No woman should ever be bossing him around, and that cunt went around bossing everyone around. He hated the government so much. The law was the reason he lost his father, and he forever hated anyone involved in it.
"Then how are we going to kill bitch?" Ashley asked.
"Let's cut off her head. I want to keep some of her hair," Tony suggested.
"That's creepy," Sammie argued back. "Let's cut her in half like the Black Dahlia. They never caught who did that to her."
"Well, do you know how fucking hard it is to cut someone in half?"
"No harder than cutting her head off!" Sammie shouted.
"We can figure out how we kill her once we have her," Jude said taking control again. "I want her death to be painful. She deserves no less."
Rossi wasn't sure why he decided to go with Hotch back to the station to watch the tapes with the lawyer. Rossi would be perfectly happy never to see another minute of the tape, but he thought he owed it to Morgan and Reid. He wasn't there when they were abducted, and he still felt it was partially his fault for allowing them to be with Harold for that long. He was having a huge dinner in Harold's dining room while two of his friends were suffering upstairs. He should have been the one who was chained up, not them.
"Why do you want to help the lawyer?" Rossi asked as he sat down. The conference room was smaller than he was used to, but it would be enough to watch another tape. The television set seemed to stare at Rossi, and he tried his best to ignore it.
"I don't know," Hotch said. "I was looking at his credentials earlier, and we went to the same high school. I never met him before this, but maybe showing him these tapes will make him back out of the case. Harold doesn't deserve a lawyer."
Rossi was about to ask another question when the lawyer walked in. He pulled up a chair next to Hotch, but he didn't say anything. He almost looked sick.
"I'm guessing you saw Harold's house?" Rossi asked politely.
"I don't really want to talk about that," James said quietly. "Who are we watching on the tapes again?"
"Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid," Hotch said. "They are two of my best agents. I've started watching the tape already, but we still have a long way to go."
"You haven't missed much," Rossi added.
"Great," James mumbled.
Hotch pressed the play button, and Rossi sat back in his chair. It was hard to distant himself from what was happening on the screen though, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget that the two people crying on the TV were two of his best friends. The tape wasn't the same one that they had been watching earlier. Rossi noticed that right away. Morgan and Reid were in worse condition with fresh blood dripping from their open wounds. Morgan was either sleeping or passed out on the far wall, but Reid was still awake. Reid's bony legs were flat on the floor, and Rossi winced when he saw the spikes digging into Reid's ankles. The kid wasn't event trying to cover himself up at that point. He was too weak to care. Rossi noticed that Reid's calf was almost hidden by the scarlet covered blood on his leg. He was recently stabbed. Reid didn't even look up when Markus strolled into the room. Markus looked like he was about to leave when Reid finally lifted his head up.
"I've brought you some water as promised," Markus said as he sat down next to Reid. Markus held out the water bottle in front of Reid, but the kid didn't even open his mouth.
"Wake up Morgan," Reid said in a voice that didn't sound like his own. "He needs it more than I do." Markus didn't look too thrilled at Reid's request, but he went over to Morgan. As carefully as he could, he touched Morgan's cheek. Morgan woke up instantly, and Markus fell back down on the floor from surprise. He got back on his knees, and held up the water bottle.
"I'm sorry," Markus stuttered out. "I just brought some water."
Morgan looked over at Reid before he started drinking. Rossi knew at the rate that Morgan was drinking that his stomach wouldn't be able to handle it. Just as Rossi predicted, Morgan coughed up most of the water seconds later. It took time for the human body to adjust back to food or drink after being denied it for so long. Morgan knew that too, but Rossi couldn't blame him for being so thirsty. Rossi would have done the exact same thing. Markus looked terrified when Morgan started coughing, but he didn't move until Morgan stopped.
"Thank you man," Morgan said quietly. Markus didn't even look at Morgan's face as he walked over to give Reid what was left of the water. Reid drank the rest of the bottle in a matter of seconds. The kid didn't cough up the water, but he didn't get as much as Morgan. Markus put the empty bottle back in his jacket and stood up to leave.
"Thank you," Reid said. "Can you pleaseā¦are our friends still looking for us?"
"They're here," Markus replied. The strange man shut the door before another question could be asked.
"What does he mean?" James asked suddenly. "Were you guys searching the house then?"
"No," Rossi said turning to face him. "Harold was having a party that weekend. He likes parties, and he was kind enough to invite us. I went to the party with another agent."
"You didn't see anything or hear anything strange?"
"You've been to the house. It's hard to hear what's going on in the next room, but I didn't see anything stranger than Harold cornering me in the bathroom to talk about The Wizard of Oz."
James opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped. There really wasn't much to say when you find out your client liked talking about children's musicals while he had two federal agents tied up upstairs. He put his pen down, and looked back at the screen. Reid brought his legs up to his chest to give himself some privacy, and Morgan was weakly tugging at his chains.
"I knew they were coming," Morgan said. Reid didn't say anything, and Rossi noticed how sick the kid was looking. Morgan apparently saw as well, and he started dancing around with strange movements. Rossi knew they all would have been laughing at him if it was under different circumstances. He looked like he ants in his pants.
"What are you doing?" Reid asked when he spotted Morgan's rain dance.
"Trying to get these pants off," Morgan replied. "You need them more than I do." That statement really broke Rossi's heart. He knew that it was freezing in that room, and Morgan was using a lot of his energy to try to get those pants off.
"Morgan, even if you got them off, how could you throw them over here to land on me? I couldn't catch them," Reid said.
Rossi knew he was tearing up when Reid told Morgan that his back was hurting. Rossi couldn't get a good look at his back from the camera angle, but he knew what it looked like from the photographs. He didn't really want to see it again. When Harold stormed in the room a few minutes later, Rossi noticed that James perked up. Up to that point, James only saw the emotional interactions between Morgan and Reid with a little Markus on the side. He hadn't seen what Harold was capable yet. Apparently, neither did Rossi.
Harold roughly tore Reid from his chains, and threw the kid on the table. Reid cried out from his rough treatment, and Morgan was shouting. After splashing some of Reid's blood on Morgan and ripping Reid's wounds back open with the cat's claw, Harold climbed onto the table behind Reid. The young genius' face was towards the camera, and everyone saw Harold's hard sex rubbing up behind Reid. Rossi had to look away when Harold forced himself into Reid. The kid screamed louder than Rossi ever heard before, and Morgan was shouting every curse word he could think of, but that wasn't going to save Reid.
James got up, and turned the television off without asking Hotch or Rossi. Rossi was very grateful for that small action. He didn't think he could watch anymore. Rossi would never refer to Harold as human again. No human being could inflict that much pain onto another.
"I'm leaving," James announced. "This is sick. It's sick and it's wrong, and I don't want to be a part of this anymore."
"What are you going to do?" Rossi asked.
"I'm going to talk to Harold's parents, but I don't think I can do this case anymore. I don't want to represent someone like that. There is no way I could win his case, and even if I did have a chance in hell, I don't want someone like him walking the streets," James said in one very long breath. "I don't know how you guys can sit there and watch that!"
"They are our friends," Hotch said.
"I would never want to remember my friends like that," James answered. "I am frankly surprised that they lived through this. Do they know about the tapes?"
Rossi looked at Hotch, but neither one of them spoke for a moment. Morgan knew about the pictures that were taken. He was actually staring defiantly into a few of them, but Rossi didn't know if anyone told them about the video camera.
"They will never watch the tapes," Hotch finally said. "I'm not going to mention the tapes to them, and I hope they never bring it up."
Rossi knew that none of them would ever even mention one of the tapes around Morgan and Reid. They had enough healing to do already. It would devastate both of them to know that everything they went through would live forever on the tapes. Rossi really wished he could set every single one of those video recordings on fire. They needed to be burned.
Evan sat in the back room of the police station with his hand massaging his head. He couldn't believe that psycho just attacked him. What would have happened if the others didn't hear him calling? He didn't think it was possible for Harold to have killed him from behind those bars, but it was terrifying all the same. His trial couldn't come fast enough. Evan didn't want that monster sitting in the place where he worked.
He hated the idiots outside almost more than he hated Harold. Why in the world were those people rooting for the monster to be set free? He knew that they never the psychopath and that most of them never would, but they needed to shut their mouths. Harold was the man responsible for the death of his sister. Joanne would never see the light of day again, and she had such a bright future ahead of her. She wanted to get into criminal justice as well. She wanted to help put men like Harold away forever, but she never got to graduate college. Evan kept reliving the last time he saw her alive, and he knew he would for the rest of his days. She wanted him to go walk the dog with her. She was staying with him for the weekend, and he had some time off work, but he blew her off. He had more important things to do. He never saw her again.
Evan stood up to get back to his shift when he noticed Harold's infamous tapes sitting across from him with the rest of the evidence. Evan knew he shouldn't be messing with that crap. The lawyers and prosecutors needed that to give Harold the death penalty. Evan just wanted to show the people the kind of person that Harold really was. It would make them leave the police station alone. Evan looked both ways, and silently went to look at the evidence. He saw Harold's old diary, photographs of the dying agent, the boxes of VHS tapes, and then he noticed something else. In a much smaller box, he saw several DVDs. It looked like someone had converted all of the old tapes into DVDs. Evan smiled and grabbed one of the discs from the top of the pile. He slipped it into his jacket, and left the evidence room.
im surprised i finished this chapter too. dont ask how im publishing this fast but i dont question it so neither should u guys. i wont get another chapter up tho 4 a while unless i get a bunch of beautiful and fun reviews. reviews make me very very happy, so happy that i do spongebob's butt dance. dont ask. i swear im not crazy lol. im just special. and to make my little happy readers laugh, someone needs to make a character like this: Got out of jury duty by prefacing every answer with "according to the prophecy" harold isnt really religious and jude just doesnt like law...or women...or law...so REVIEW! pweez
