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Crucifixion As A Modern Death Penalty

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I’m no bartender but if I’d poured beers with that much of a head I’d no be bloody smiling about it.
This Oktoberfest is quite special, they do not fill normaly that much, and it is very expensive that beer. But there are worser things which will happen to you, for example one comes into a fight, because one has suposely flirtet with some other mans girl, true I know. But some fighting is not the worst, since that heals after some time, the worst is to see german boys stripping on the table to some german folk music, that you will not bring out of your mind, since there is simply not enough alcohol for that. Believe me, that Oktoberfest is a true horror show and one needs some quality on the cross.
 
The judge looks at the prisoner Cella and coldly says "crucify her... and make sure she dies slowly!"
Yes! I would stand up straight, shoulders back, my naked chest proudly thrust forward and say: "Damn you and your perverted justice, your honor. You can order my execution but you know I'm not guilty. My death will haunt you for the rest of your years. My every word on the cross for as long as I hang will be to curse you to damnation!"

"Enough! You're in contempt of court, young lady. That outburst will cost you . . . um." The judge puts his hand over the microphone and turns to consult with the court bailiff standing nearby. "What else can we do to this bitch to make her death even worse?"

"Your honor, you already gave her death by slow crucifixion. She'll be nailed, naked and obscenely exposed. The carnifex is well-trained in these matters. A real pro. He'll make sure she suffers plenty. Really can't make it much worse than it already is. Sorry."

"Well, make sure she's gang-raped then. That's a good add."

"Um, sorry your honor. Rape is already included. Part of the package, as it were, you know."

"Scourging?"

"Um, too much. It'll nearly kill her and she'll not have much time on the . . ."

"Breast ripper?" The judge interrupts. "She's got some really nice hooters there."

The bailiff stares longingly at the condemned woman's softly heaving breasts with their pert nipples jutting forward. "Ah, yes, I've noticed, your honor," he says uncomfortably as he tries to look away. "She has great hooters--ah, breasts, indeed. Yes, indeed. Really, really nice. But the blood loss and added pain would, again, only lessen her time on the cross."

"Cornu, then? Wouldn't that give some support up her backside and really drag out her execution?"

"She'll already have a foot block, your honor. Cornu won't add time and may actually cause severe hemorrhaging in the lower colon or vagina depending on . . ."

"Okay, okay, I get it," the judge says in exasperation. "Oh, well, get on with it then. Take her away."

"Yes, your honor. Guards, take her . . ."

"Wait, wait." The judge raises a hand and the guards freeze, standing in place.

"This bitch is a Jewish girl. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir. She is Jewish, indeed."

"Is her mother alive?"

"Yes, she is. She' right over there. The dark-haired woman with the glasses." The bailiff points to a sobbing middle-aged woman sitting on a visitor's bench in the courtroom.

"Well then, from what I know about Jewish mothers I think I have the answer to make this bitch suffer so, so much more.

"What's that, sir?"

"It's simple." The judge sits forward, facing the condemned girl, who stares back defiantly. "I further order that your mother be crucified alongside you. Take them away!"

"Nooooo! Noooo!" Marcella's anguished cries echo through the room. "You can't do that to me! You can't! I'll be stuck with her for days! Days! The nagging, the constant nagging. It's, it's just too horrible! I won't be able to get away! I'll be trapped with her nagging, nagging, nagging until I die! Your honor, please. Please have mercy on me! Don't do this to me! Aaaargh!"

As the cringing, anguished Marcella and her mother are taken away to be crucified, her mother shouts back at her. "Why Cella? Why? Why didn't you marry that nice young doctor you were dating? Or the rabbi's son? A real scholar that one. Or even Moshe, the tailor's son. He was an accountant and a nice boy. You wouldn't be in the mess you're in now, you know. You could have had children. A nice family. Maybe a nice house in Queens, too. But nooo! You had to go to college and get that degree in women's studies, didn't you? What good is that doing you now? What good, I ask? What good? Those lesbians ruined you! Ruined you! You weren't like this growing up, Cella. You were always such a good girl. Everyone said so. Didn't your father and I raise you better than that! When I think of all the sacrifices we made, and this is how you pay us back? Why do you hate us? Answer me, Cella! Why do you hate us? What did we do wrong? Oi! It was me, isn't it? Was I such a terrible mother? Was I? Why are you doing this to me? Why? All I can say is thank goodness your father--God rest his soul-- isn't here now. This would kill him!"
 
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Yes! I would stand up straight, shoulders back, my naked chest proudly thrust forward and say: "Damn you and your perverted justice, your honor. You can order my execution but you know I'm not guilty. My death will haunt you for the rest of your years. My every word on the cross for as long as I hang will be to curse you to damnation!"

"Enough! You're in contempt of court, young lady. That outburst will cost you . . . um." The judge puts his hand over the microphone and turns to consult with the court bailiff standing nearby. "What else can we do to this bitch to make her death even worse?"

"Your honor, you already gave her death by slow crucifixion. She'll be nailed, naked and obscenely exposed. The carnifex is well-trained in these matters. A real pro. He'll make sure she suffers plenty. Really can't make it much worse than it already is. Sorry."

"Well, make sure she's gang-raped then. That's a good add."

"Um, sorry your honor. Rape is already included. Part of the package, as it were, you know."

"Scourging?"

"Um, too much. It'll nearly kill her and she'll not have much time on the . . ."

"Breast ripper?" The judge interrupts. "She's got some really nice hooters there."

The bailiff stares longingly at the condemned woman's softly heaving breasts with their pert nipples jutting forward. "Ah, yes, I've noticed, your honor," he says uncomfortably as he tries to look away. "She has great hooters--ah, breasts, indeed. Yes, indeed. Really, really nice. But the blood loss and added pain would, again, only lessen her time on the cross."

"Cornu, then? Wouldn't that give some support up her backside and really drag out her execution?"

"She'll already have a foot block, your honor. Cornu won't add time and may actually cause severe hemorrhaging in the lower colon or vagina depending on . . ."

"Okay, okay, I get it," the judge says in exasperation. "Oh, well, get on with it then. Take her away."

"Yes, your honor. Guards, take her . . ."

"Wait, wait." The judge raises a hand and the guards freeze, standing in place.

"This bitch is a Jewish girl. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir. She is Jewish, indeed."

"Is her mother alive?"

"Yes, she is. She' right over there. The dark-haired woman with the glasses." The bailiff points to a sobbing middle-aged woman sitting on a visitor's bench in the courtroom.

"Well then, from what I know about Jewish mothers I think I have the answer to make this bitch suffer so, so much more.

"What's that, sir?"

"It's simple." The judge sits forward, facing the condemned girl, who stares back defiantly. "I further order that your mother be crucified alongside you. Take them away!"

"Nooooo! Noooo!" Marcella's anguished cries echo through the room. "You can't do that to me! You can't! I'll be stuck with her for days! Days! The nagging, the constant nagging. It's, it's just too horrible! I won't be able to get away! I'll be trapped with her nagging, nagging, nagging until I die! Your honor, please. Please have mercy on me! Don't do this to me! Aaaargh!"

As the cringing, anguished Marcella and her mother are taken away to be crucified, her mother shouts back at her. "Why Cella? Why? Why didn't you marry that nice young doctor you were dating? Or the rabbi's son? A real scholar that one. Or even Moshe, the tailor's son. He was an accountant and a nice boy. You wouldn't be in the mess you're in now, you know. You could have had children. A nice family. Maybe a nice house in Queens, too. But nooo! You had to go to college and get that degree in women's studies, didn't you? What good is that doing you now? What good, I ask? What good? Those lesbians ruined you! Ruined you! You weren't like this growing up, Cella. You were always such a good girl. Everyone said so. Didn't your father and I raise you better than that! When I think of all the sacrifices we made, and this is how you pay us back? Why do you hate us? Answer me, Cella! Why do you hate us? What did we do wrong? Oi! It was me, isn't it? Was I such a terrible mother? Was I? Why are you doing this to me? Why? All I can say is thank goodness your father--God rest his soul-- isn't here now. This would kill him!"
That was a CRUEL judge!!!
 
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