A few days later, Mickey was put on trial. Minnie, Daisy, Goofy, Max, Horace, Clarabelle, Scrooge, Huey, Dewey, and Louie were all in attendance, as well as Launchpad, Gyro, Mrs. Beakly, and Webby, Donald's other uncle, Professor Ludwig von Drake, and Donald's two friends, Jose Carioca and Panchito Pistoles. They had heard about Mickey being accused of murder, and refused to believe it.
"Mickey Mouse!" the judge shouted. "You have been charged with the murder of Donald Duck! How do you plead?"
"Not guilty, your honor, sir!" Mickey shouted. "I mean, Donald's my pal. I'd never murder him!"
"So he says, your honor," the prosecutor said. "I am here to prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Mickey Mouse is indeed guilty! I have here video-graphic evidence that proves it!"
The prosecutor took a tape, and put it into the player. Immediately, the image of Mickey and Donald crossing the fallen tree appeared on it. The prosecutor pushed the pause button on the remote control.
"Mickey Mouse, do you deny that you were in this location?" he asked.
"No, I don't deny it," Mickey said. "What happened was I tripped, and . . . ."
"You tripped, eh? Your honor, let's go to the video tape."
The prosecutor pushed the play button, and the video went on. Mickey had somewhat of a sinister smile on his face, looked around, and then pushed Donald as hard as he could, off the tree.
"Whoopsie!" he shouted, sarcastically, and then laughed. Then, he opened his backpack, took a piece of rope out, and tied it into a lasso.
"Oh my gosh," he said, in mock horror. "Hang on, Donald! I'll save ya, ol' pal! Heh, heh, heh . . . ."
Mickey swung his lasso, and managed to throw it, right around Donald's neck. With a great jerk, he pulled Donald off the branch.
"Wak!" Donald shouted, sounding choked. Mickey began to laugh maniacally. Daisy gasped, and held her hands to her bill. Minnie's eyes grew wide with shock. Nobody could believe what they were seeing. Not even Mickey!
"That's not me, your honor!" Mickey shouted. "This isn't what happened! I tripped, and bumped into Donald! That's how he fell off that log. I did throw him a rope, but I didn't tie it into a lasso first! I just threw it down, and then a gust of wind knocked me off and we fell into the river."
"The Wabash-Your-Head-In River, to be precise," the prosecutor said. "Isn't that correct, Mr. Mouse?"
"Yeah, that's right," Mickey said. "We went down the Wabash-Your-Head-In River, and then over Doomsday Falls!"
"So you're saying, Mr. Mouse, that you and Donald Duck went over Doomsday Falls. Then how did you happen to survive? As you undoubtedly know, Mr. Mouse, nobody has ever survived Doomsday Falls, so how did you?"
"I . . . . . I don't know."
"Mmm hmm."
"But it's the truth! I swear! Why won't you believe me?!"
"Shall we continue the video tape?"
The prosecutor continued the video tape. It showed Mickey pulling Donald up from the bridge, and then dragging him (by the rope around his neck) across the bridge, and down the path to the river bank. Then Mickey ripped off Donald's shirt, took a large butcher knife out of his backpack, held it up, laughed maniacally, and brought it down.
"Gawrsh!" Goofy shouted, covering his eyes. "I can't look!"
"This is the way we carve the duck, carve the duck, carve the duck!" Mickey on the video tape sang, to the tune of "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush." A large gasp rippled through everyone in the room.
"Unca Donald?" Huey asked. Immediately, Scrooge covered his nephew's eyes, while Professor von Drake covered Dewey's, Daisy covered Louie's, and Mrs. Beakly covered Webby's.
"Don't look, kids," Scrooge said, grimacing. "It isn't a pretty sight."
"I'll say it isn't!" Launchpad shouted, cringing. "Eeeeuuuwww!"
"Oh the humanity!" Clarabelle shouted.
"I can't believe I'm seeing this," Minnie said, as Mickey threw the butcher knife away. Then with a mad cackle, he began plucking out Donald's feathers by the handful.
"Mr. Donald, I will pluck your feathers, I will pluck them one handful by one!" he sang to the tune of "Allouette."
Once Mickey was done plucking, he took out a hatchet. Minnie covered her eyes, just as she heard five sickening chopping sounds. When she uncovered them again, she let out a loud gasp.
"Oh Mickey!" she cried.
"I didn't do it, Minnie!" Mickey shouted. "I swear, I didn't do it!"
"What's going on, Grammy?" Webby asked, since Mrs. Beakly was still covering her eyes.
"Believe me, dear," Mrs. Beakly said. "It's far too gruesome for you to see."
"Quackarooney!" Louie shouted, managing to peak through Daisy's fingers.
"Unca Donald!" Dewey shouted, pulling himself away from his great-Uncle Ludwig so he could see what was going on.
"Your uncle Scrooge told you not to look!" Professor von Drake said. "And I wish I hadn't looked. Hooo boy . . . ."
On the video, Mickey then laughed maniacally, stuffed Donald into his backpack, and walked off, scatting his little tune, "Minnie's Yoo-Hoo." Nobody could believe what they were seeing. The video scene shifted to Mickey's house, in the kitchen. On the counter there was a roasting pan with what looked like a duck inside of it. Mickey was chopping up onions, and mixing them with breadcrumbs, celery, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, and then stuffing it into the bird.
"Mmm-mmmm!" Mickey shouted, hungrily. "This'll be the best dinner I've ever had! Nothing like a good roast duck!"
Another loud gasp rippled through the room. On the video, Mickey then popped the bird into the oven. Moments later, the timer went off, and revealed the duck, roasted to perfection. Mickey then transferred the duck from the pan to a plate, and began devouring it like a neanderthal.
"Oh my goodness . . . . ." Gyro said, looking a little green.
"Curse me kilts!" Scrooge gasped. Daisy let out a shriek loud enough to shatter glass.
"The horror!" Horace shouted. "The horror!"
"I can't believe it!" Clarabelle shouted. "I just can't believe it!"
"Oooohhh!" Minnie moaned.
"Come on, you guys!" Mickey shouted. "I didn't do it! I'd never do a thing like that! You know I wouldn't!"
The final scene in the video showed Mickey biting into a drumstick, then pulling it out of his mouth, and throwing it over his shoulder. Then he picked up the wishbone, and held it up with two hands.
"Make a wish! Nyah-ha-ha-haaaa!" he shouted, maniacally. Then he yanked it in two pieces, and tossed them over his shoulder. Then he leaned back in his chair, and wiped his mouth with what looked like Donald's sailor hat.
"Aaahhh, that was a good meal," he sighed. Then he turned to address the bones. "You may have been a foul fowl, Donald, but you sure were delicious!"
Another loud gasp filled the courtroom, and once again, people began talking among themselves, mostly in shock. The prosecutor stopped the video.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he went on, "I would like to offer some more evidence that Mickey Mouse committed this evil deed."
"I hate to see what's next," Mickey moaned.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the prosecutor said. "Upon searching the area, the police have found these in the woods."
The prosecutor then pulled out the noose, the butcher knife, and the hatchet, all of which were contained in plastic bags.
"You can't prove anything!" Mickey shouted. "I bet you can't find any of my fingerprints on them!"
"True, there wasn't a print found on them," the prosecutor said. "However, my good mouse, there is the fact that you wear gloves, which, as you knew when you used these items, wouldn't leave fingerprints on them to identify you."
"But . . . . but most of us here in Toontown wear gloves!" Mickey shouted.
"I now would like to call police chief O'Hara to the stand," the prosecutor said. Chief O'Hara took the stand and was sworn in.
"Chief O'Hara," the prosecutor said, "did you obtain a search warrant to inspect the home of Mickey Mouse?"
"Yes sir," Chief O'Hara said.
"And did you find anything of interest while searching?"
"I sure did. Mickey Mouse was keeping a skeleton in his closet."
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Exhibit A!"
The prosecutor pulled a cardboard box out of hammerspace, and dumped the contents of it onto a table. Exhibit A was just a pile of bones. The prosecutor quickly began putting the bones together, to reveal a duck skeleton. He held up two pieces of broken bone.
"These two pieces of bone are, in fact, Donald Duck's wishbone," the prosecutor said. "Did your forensics team examine these, Chief O'Hara?"
"That they did," Chief O'Hara said, nodding. "They made a positive identification after examining those bones. They did, indeed, belong to Donald Duck."
Yet another loud gasp filled the courtroom. Everyone looked at Mickey, shocked, angry, and disappointed all at once.
"But . . . . but I . . . . but . . . . but . . . ." Mickey stammered, but it was no use. He couldn't think of anything to say.
"No further questions, your honor," the prosecutor said.
"Jury, have you reached a verdict?" the judge asked.
"Guilty!" every last member of the jury shouted in unison. Mickey cringed. He felt about three inches tall at this point.
"Mickey Mouse, I hereby sentence you to life in prison," the judge said. "Without the possibility of parole. Case dismissed!"
The judge banged his gavel against his desk, and stepped down.
"Wait! I'm innocent I tell ya!" Mickey shouted, as a couple of officers started to lead him out of the courtroom.
"I didn't think anyone could stoop so low!" Horace shouted.
"Honestly, Mickey!" Clarabelle shouted. "I mean, really! You should be ashamed!"
"You . . . . you . . . . you rat, you!" Daisy shouted. She slapped Mickey in the face as hard as she possibly could (leaving a hand-shaped mark on Mickey's face), and then burst into hysterical tears.
"But, Daisy, I . . . ." Mickey started, but he was interrupted when Huey, Dewey, and Louie approached him, and all three of them were in tears.
"Aw, how couldja do it, Mickey?" Huey asked.
"Now we'll never see Unca Donald again," Dewey sniffled.
"We'll never forgive you!" Louie wailed.
"Oh gosh, boys . . . ." Mickey said.
"Don't you speak to them, you . . . . you fiend!" Scrooge shouted, stepping between his nephews and Mickey. "I want nothing more to do with you, Mouse! I don't take kindly to anyone who'll murder me kin!"
"But Scrooge, really, I didn't . . . ." Mickey began, but he was cut off by the sound of very loud bawling. Goofy was standing there, wringing his hat in his hands, and sobbing.
"And to think you were one of my best friends," he said, and let out a loud wail.
"Take it easy, Dad," Max said, patting his father's shoulder comfortingly. Then he turned to Mickey, and glared at him.
"Well, Mickey," he said. "I hope you're proud of yourself."
"But Max, Goofy, wait a minute!" Mickey shouted.
"You know what I'm gonna do now, Mouse?" Professor von Drake asked. "I'm gonna build me a better mouse trap, and then I might test it on you!"
"Professor, really, I didn't murder Donald!" Mickey protested. "I'm telling ya, I'm innocent!"
"In Mexico, we got words for people like you," Panchito said. Then he began shouting right in Mickey's face. "Usted es un perro, un vago, una serpiente en la hierba, y un gran cerdo gordo, y espero que te pudras en la cárcel por el resto de tu vida miserable, y ahogarse con una enchilada! Usted me enferma, y me escupen en los pies, vosotros dos caras hijo de un chacal! Ptooey!"
Mickey jumped back a little as Panchito spit at his feet. Then he looked at the Mexican rooster, a little confused.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"You don't want to know!" Panchito shouted, and then he spat at Mickey's feet again. "Ptooey!"
Panchito stomped off. Once again, Mickey felt three inches tall. In fact, he was starting to feel two inches tall. He saw Jose giving him one of those looks that could kill.
"Jose, please, you know me!" Mickey shouted. "You know I wouldn't do it!"
All Jose did was give Mickey a sharp glare, and shake his head disapprovingly. Then he walked away, behind his fellow Caballero. Mickey had one last hope.
"Minnie!" he shouted. "Minnie, you've gotta believe me! I'm innocent!"
"Hmph!" Minnie shouted, turning her nose up at Mickey. "Don't even speak to me, Mickey Mouse! I never want to see you again as long as I live!"
"Aw, Minnie . . . . ."
"I trusted you! And now . . . . ."
Minnie burst into tears before she could finish her sentence. She and Daisy hugged each other, and the two of them started crying harder.
"Well . . . ." Mickey said. "Well, at least take care of Pluto for me."
Minnie didn't answer. Mickey sighed, and the officers led him outside. There were several reporters outside, all of them asking Mickey questions at once. Mickey ignored all of them. As if things couldn't get any worse, Pete and Mortimer were hanging out at the courthouse as well.
"Hey Mouse!" Pete shouted, giving Mickey a hard slap in the back. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, pal! Ha, ha, ha!"
"Mickey Mouse going to the big house," Mortimer said. "Now ain't that a shame. Don't worry, Mick! I'll take care of Minnie for ya!"
"Yeah," Mickey said, giving Mortimer a dirty look. "I'll just bet you will."
And with that, Mickey was thrown into the back of the police wagon, and carted off to jail.