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This is purely the product of the make-believe authoring software that is installed in my brain. It has no basis in fact and there is not one single word of truth in it. It is just me, creating happy thoughts.
At the Slappy house, each evening, Slappy and Mrs. Slappy retire to the family room after dinner. He drinks Diet Coke and howls at the moon. She drinks a very, extremely, incredibly dry martinis (gin plus olive). He gives vent to his personal demons. He rages against Fat Nino, who is his daddy, completely. He curses those who put him up there for reasons apart from his legal acumen. But mostly he curses the young woman who, through her sworn, truthful, and compelling testimony, created his legacy even before he was sworn in to office.
Ginny keeps drinking.
For years and years.
Slappy discovers he will be leaving the Court soon, for reasons sad and as yet unknown beyond he and Ginny.
The Legacy.
Ginny's sopping mind works overtime. Her injured cognition creates a scenario where Ms. Hill can save her Clarence from the story that damned him when, in 1991, he was intended by a right wing nut to replace with a new ideology, the great, highly respected Thurgood Marshall.
It eats at her. With more gin, her mission grows increasingly clear.
The Legacy
She calls Ms. Hill's office and leaves her message.
And so the 19 year old story again becomes new and current, the past to be relived. The path of the story over the next weeks or months is unclear. The motives murky.
An olive branch will have no more than a bit part in the still evolving plot.
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