CRIMES CAUGHT-

When Andromache came home that night, she immediately knew that something was wrong. Perhaps it was because she noticed that Hector was frozen at the counter with his hand squeezing the phone and that he never budged an inch after a good ten minutes. Finally, she went up to tap her husband lightly on the shoulder and whispered,

"Boo!"

Hector jumped and blinked rapidly as if he had just woken up from a trance. He looked at her, dazed for a moment, and then growled,

"Is Paris home yet?"

Andromache shook her head. "Nope, he called to say that he was going to be staying at a friend's house today."

Hector groaned and pushing the redial button on the phone, he prayed desperately for someone, anyone to answer.

"Hello?" a gruff, grumpy voice bellowed from the other line.

Hector was taken aback. 'That's not Helen,' he decided. 'And Paris definitely does not sound like that so it must be...'

Hector trembled suddenly. It could only be Menelaus, Helen's husband and the guy that Hector owed a lot of cash to.

"Hello Menelaus," Hector replied slowly. "I was wondering if my brother, Paris, is at your salon by any chance?"

"It's a boutique, not a salon," Menelaus growled back. "And it belongs to my wife who has been gone for the whole evening. Would you by any chance know where she would be?"

Hector wondered what he was supposed to say. 'She's probably planning with my brother to run away from you, but I can't give you a specific location?' Hector mused.

"No, I have no idea where Helen could ever be," Hector responded quickly. "No idea at all."

And with that, he quickly slammed the phone back into its cradle and began to wonder if he could book a flight to Antarctica as soon as possible.

THE SPARTAN COURTHOUSE OF GREEK JUSTICE-

Briseis felt more and more tiny as she entered the colossal courthouse with its pillars that seemed to touch the sky and its bloated judges that sat far above her. She had made her mind to be responsible and go to the courthouse only because she wanted to make sure that no one would ever think of her as a nun who dropped stuff on your head again.

"Um...excuse me?" Briseis asked a secretary quietly. "I'm here for a trial?"

The secretary looked at Briseis with a raised eyebrow. "What could a harmless little thing like you do?"

Briseis shrugged. "I dropped an answer machine on someone's head."

As soon as she spoke those words, everyone in the room became gave a sharp gasp and became stonily silent. The secretary pushed her swivel chair as far as away from Briseis as she could and shrieked into her earphone,

"Security! We have a bomb dropper in building 6!"

Immediately, a team of four armed men who looked as if they were professional bodybuilders rushed in and started searching her for weapons.

"Hey!" Briseis cried. "Stop...groping!"

Once they were sure that she was clean, they grabbed her by the arm and escorted her to another room where a judge sat, stroking his long, long white beard.

Briseis sat down in one miniature cubicle only to face a smirking Achilles that was sitting in another cubicle across form her. 'He knows he's going to win this thing,' Briseis realized, her heart sinking. 'And then he's going to make sure they label me a 'bomb dropper.''

"Young lady," the judge said, peering down at her with narrowed eyes. "Did you know that in the state of New York, it is a most serious crime to drop anything heavier than an apple out of high window?"

Briseis bit her lip and focused her eyes from Achilles to the judge's nametag which read, Nestor.

"Well," she began slowly, buying time. "Well, Nestor, is there any proof that I was the one who dropped something on this man's head?"

Nestor frowned and threw a folder down on the desk before her. "Inside are photos of a girl who was seen clearly dropping answer machines on people's heads. There is also a photo of her ripping a public phone off its machine."

Briseis gulped and glared at Achilles fiercely.

"And of all people, it is you who was going to become a nun," Nestor said. "It is a nun who has decided on violence instead of peace. So tell me, why, why did you choose to do such a thing? Are you depressed?"

"Clearly, she does have some type of a mental illness," Achilles spoke up. "I mean, who has ever heard of a nun trying to give someone a concussion?"

Briseis had had enough. "Ok, first of all, I am not crazy!" she exclaimed angrily. "I was just not thinking at the time and I didn't realize that the answer machine was going to hit someone!"

"Of course you didn't," Nestor said kindly, humoring her like he would do to a child. "Now I'm just going to contact your guardian and prescribe some antidepressants, ok?"

Briseis felt like retorting, 'No, it's not ok!' and then strangling Achilles' neck, but she nodded and decided that revenge would always be sweeter later.

HELEN'S MANSION-

Helen and Paris were both lying on the living room carpet, nuzzling each other as they watched the tv.

"Paris," Helen suddenly said. "Don't you think that your brother will be upset if I come to your house to stay? I mean, he owes a lot to Menelaus."

"Who, Hector?" Paris asked. "Nah, he's cool. He won't mind at all.'

Then, Helen pointed to the tv. "Darling, isn't that your cousin?"

Paris looked up and his eyes widened. It was Briseis, looking meek and timid in a courtroom.

"Yeah, but what the heck is she doing on tv? I mean, I went to a bunch of tv auditions and they never put me on screen!" Paris whined.

Helen shrugged. "Well, maybe they think that she's prettier than you."

Paris looked disbelieving. "Yeah, right, but I'm going to call Hector and tell him. He'll be so proud!"

Paris grabbed the phone and started dialing only to hear the bellow of one enraged big brother.

"PARISSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!"