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Beam

“You can’t bulldoze it,” announces Venison, slapping papers on the table. “It’s a prehistoric landmark.”

“You’re joking,” says Beam.

“It was sacred to certain dinosaur tribes,” Venison nudges the papers forward. “As you’ll see–”

“Is there a record of this?” asks the judge, squinting.

“Can’t be, your honor,” says Venison. “It’s prehistoric. Ipso facto.”

“You’re joking,” says Beam. “How do you expect to prove–”

“The burden of proof,” he says smugly, “rests on the plaintiff–the city, as represented by you.”

Beam gapes.

“Can you prove the city needs another school?” says Venison. “Is it law, or merely theory?”

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