The Trial of the Monarch



The Monarch is finally on trial, though it may be for a crime that he didn’t actually commit.

Statue of Olee Jemeema: Oooooh! My arm came off! I can’t believe that happened!

The Monarch: While you were wasting your time castrating a priceless artifact, I was systematically feeding babies…. to hungry mutated puppies!

Watch: Sovereign, many of our operatives are in place. We await your orders.
Sovereign: Good, Good… Let us proceed to stage five.
Watch: It shall be done.
Watch: (turning to Ward) Great, way to make me look like a tool! What are you doing back there?
Ward: Have you seen my juice-box?
Watch: Oh, that was yours? I thought that–
Ward: Great. Thanks. Why did I even bother putting my initials on it?

Dean: Saliva is nature’s glue.
Hank: And raisins are nature’s candy!

Dr. Orpheus: Do not be too hasty entering that room. I had TACO BELL FOR LUNCH!! Expert witness, Dr. Byron Orpheus has arrived.
Hank: (examining the bathroom door from which Orpheus emerged) The hair’s gone! A clue!
Dean: It was Dr. O the whole time. I wonder what that means?
Brock: It means Dr. Orpheus had to take a dump. So… nice job. Case closed.

Dr. Venture: If I knew you could just call the police on him, I’d have done it years ago! Because I’m no sissy, no sir. I’d just pick up the phone and… “Officer, there’s a man in a butterfly suit shooting my robot with a laser beam.”

Brock: The police keep out of the way of the Guild for the most part. Who do you think supplied them with new cruisers last year?
Dr. Venture: My tax dollars, for one.
Dean: Santa Claus, for two.

Phantom Limb: Control, delay order. We’ve lost full containment. I repeat, delay order.
Watch: Copy on delay. We are on standby.
Ward: Knew it.
Watch: I thought you went to the can.
Ward: I did. I’m back.
Watch: That was, like, ten seconds ago. What, are you pissing in the corner?

Brock: No, Dean, this is Guild business, your father isn’t in any harm. Guild work is clean, professional. It’s surgical with them. In a way they’re the only organization I still respect.
Hank: And they kill clean, don’t let dames get in the way.
Brock: Honestly, Hank, where do you pick that stuff up? I never see you read.
Dean: It’s weird, right?
Brock: It’s like he channels dead crazy people.
Hank: You think it’s a cry for help?

(Hank and Dean are saying ‘Mech-Shiva’ repeatedly in the background)
The Monarch: Wait a minute! That’s insane! They’re total liars. I kept my mouth shut when Dean said he could read Sanskrit, and when Hank said he wanted a piece of him, I was like ‘Fine. Whatever.’, but Mecha-Shiva? No way! They are so lying, I’m innocent!

The Monarch: Well, Hank, what’s it like to be a… liar. Huh? You like being a liar with pants constantly on fire?
Tiny Attorney: Objection, your honor, leading.
The Monarch: I’ll rephrase that: Hank, are you a liar?
Hank: No sir, I don’t think so.
The Monarch: Yes you are!
Dean: You’re the liar!
The Monarch: And may I remind you, that I am rubber and you are glue and whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.

Dr. Orpheus: How sweet, a Bible. Well, if you don’t mind sir, I have book of my own for this little ritual.
(he pulls out the Necronomicon. Dr. Venture slaps himself on the head)
Dr. Orpheus: Keep your fingers clear of its mouth, he’s a nibbler.
Bailiff: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you … whoever.
Dr. Orpheus: I SWEAR IT!
Tiny Attorney: Dr. Orpheus, could you tell the court what it is that you do? You’re a type of magician?
Dr. Venture: Oooo, they have no idea what they’re in for.
Dr. Orpheus: Well, if you must call me that, yes. But if you are after mere parlor tricks you will be sorely disappointed, for if I reach behind your ear, it will not be a nickel I pull out, BUT YOUR VERY SOUL!
Dr. Venture: (imitating a lounge singer) Good night ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a great crowd.

Judge: You’re on thin ice, but do you get off the ice? No, you jump up and down like a lunatic having a..a conniption fit. Now if it was up to me, you’d have been in chains an hour ago. But this is a trial by jury and it’s up to your peers…
The Monarch: Peers?
Judge: (cont’d) …to decide this.
The Monarch: PEERS?! How dare you! That repulsive display of humanity out there? NO WAY! A list of my peers would read as follows: Flying Squid and Tigeriffic; Truckules; Lord Mostly-Magic; King Fantastic Outfit; Fee Waybill of the Tubes; SuicideGirl Teagan; Bill “Superfoot” Wallace; Happy-Go-Clucky and Swiss Misstery; Chaka Igloo; and my 8th grade earth science teacher Mr. Tringe! Oh… and Bizarro Oscar Wilde as an alternate.

The Monarch: This all started soon after ‘The Flight of the Monarch’ was published. A mean little tell-all-book filled with nothing but lies and pictures of also lies.
(flashback to The Monarch’s floating cocoon)
The Monarch: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!
#24: A book?
The Monarch: No, but you would think it was right? You can read it like a book, here I’ll show you: (reading) ‘…riffling through his pockets for change, the Monarch accidentally launches a sodium-pentathol tipped dart deep into his own thigh. Upon hearing a girlish symphony of shrill wails, a waitress comes to his aid…’
#24: Told you!
#21: You told me he wouldn’t find out.
#24: You’re such a dick! You put his face on the cover!
The Monarch: (still reading) ‘there she was subjected to a lecture concerning her weight problem and the evils of over… plucking her eyebrows.’ Oh, it’s almost exactly like a book. There’s even some pictures, here’s one of me at Danceteria making out with Stiv Bators and Lydia Lunch. (closes book) But this is not a book, this is a suicide note. Good news! The euthanasia will be carried out by me. The author has twenty minutes to seek my aid before I just KILL all of you. You’ll find me in my room… crying!

Dr. Girlfriend: (examining her old outfit during a flashback) What are these hard chunks?
Phantom Limb: (momentarily panicked, then smoothly recovering) My… tears.
The Monarch: (back in the courtroom, present day) Tears?? You have to be kidding me! You know that sick deformed slob was… (shudders) You know he was pounding his invisible meat all over…
Dr. Venture: That’s it! Objection! Your honor, I have children listening to this potty talk!
Judge: Sustained. I want that last bit stricken from the record. (under his breath) And my mind.

The Monarch: Okay, then who haven’t you slept with? I’m sure that’s a shorter list.
Dr. Girlfriend: Oh you are insane!
The Monarch: I’m insane? I’m insane?! Look at these! There’s a picture of you in Monstroso’s lap.
Dr. Girlfriend: That was a party. Look at his lap, it’s huge. There’s, like, five of us on it.
The Monarch: Yeah, right. And here’s one of you skinny-dipping with Jim Foetus!
Dr. Girlfriend: Let me see that, I don’t remember…
The Monarch: And there’s a whole collage of you and Phantom Limb!
Dr. Girlfriend: All right, fine! I used to work for him, so what?
The Monarch: Holy crap! (holds book sideways, unraveling a fold-out) Look at your costume! What, did Frank Frazetta design it for you?! It’s tiny! I can see your…dirty pillows!
Dr. Girlfriend: I am leaving! If you can’t calm down, I’m leaving.
The Monarch: You can’t leave, I’m throwing you out! Get out of my cocoon, you WHORE!!!

Brock: This place is crawling with Strangers.
Hank: You can’t expect to know everybody, Brock.

Tiny Attorney: So. Mind readin’. Fascinatin’ Could you read the mind of, for instance, the Monarch?
The Monarch: Objection: No way!
Judge: Th-th-th-this is most unorthodox.
Dr. Venture: Unorthodox? The defendant’s in a crown for God’s sake!
Tiny Attorney: I myself am growing from the torso of an inbred simpleton.

Dr. Orpheus: Hug me!
The Monarch: Fine. Whatever gets you off, man. Just don’t go for the reach-around, because The Monarch doesn’t swing that way.
The Monarch: (drunkenly addressing a big, muscular cop in a tight uniform) Look, Officer Poncherello… the second in command just left me. So why don’t you get your big, fat Tom of Finland ass back on your big gay bike and go home?? This is none of your beeswax!!