You hurridly throw on what you would call your 'Sunday best' (which is not that nice, but accents your curves) and rush out the door, only to arrive at court five minutes late. When you walk in, the entire room breathes an embarassing sigh of relief. "Finally," the judge barks at you, "Did you get lost?"
"Uh, no, sir," you mumble, but he's not listening.
Without hearing any arguments or even a charge, the judge pounds his gavel and shouts, "Guilty!" With that, he throws the book at you. Literally, he throws the good book, which does not feel so good as it collides with your nose. As you kneel with blood running down your chin and pooling on the ground, the judge belts out, "I sentence you to a lifetime of mediocre dreams!"