plaintiff: mildred from columbia, south carolina. i’m not gonna sugarcoat it, mildred looks like she’s had a hard fucking life. she appears to be anywhere between 42 and 87 african american years old, and she’s wearing a shiny coral blouse, canary yellow nails, and cornrows.
defendant: christie from columbia, south carolina. oh, okay, i get it: these people are on drugs! or they were until very recently! as the product of a childhood filled with numerous winos and addicts i pride myself on the immediate recognition of that weird, damp-looking crackhead skin and constant teeth-sliding move, and christie definitely has both. she has come to court today in cute mustard yellow pants and a matching top beneath a black blazer, her hair swept to one side with the 1989 bumped ends (a style that i, too, favored after a fresh press n’ curl), and she is clutching her accordion of truth™ like a lifeline.
the complaint: nothing, and, i repeat, absolutely nothing, will ever be as good as this white man who is forced to read these trifling-ass voiceovers saying “mildred is suing because she claims the defendant BUSTED OUT HER WINDOW.”
what does she want: $3000 (alright, now) for a broken window (ok, sure) and emotional distress (oh shit, she’s not gonna get that). countersuit filed! christie would like $300 for unreturned property.
how it went down: mildred starts by saying “i’ve been knowing miss christie since 1980, and we used to do crack cocaine together.” first of all, where’s my prize. second, while i’m happy she got that bit of information out of the way early, i am weary just thinking about the number of times gregory is going to bring this bit of information up. okay so mildred was on crack for 6 years and has been off it for 29 but she claims christie is still on it, and that christie called her as recently as last july asking mildred to come pick her up off the street and help her get clean. mildred went and got her, and she told christie she would help her but that she couldn’t live with her full time. christie stayed at mildred’s for a couple weeks but then left when they started butting heads.
christie says she’s been sober for nine months and that she believes mildred has brought her to court today because she’s jealous that christie has so many male friends. uhh, she might be back on that crack because have you ever met a man??????? lmao jealous of WHAT. christie says she only has male friends and that sometimes those male friends give her gifts. uh huh. she continues, saying that they also would fight because they’d often go out to eat and get kicked out of restaurants because mildred would complain about the food after the meal and refuse to pay which, honestly, is a great fucking scam??? did christie just not get the crackhead handbook? because, according to my [redacted], not only can you do this kind of shit to scam your way into a decent meal, but you also can find fantastic deals on electronics if you just make nice with the guys who drive the trucks that deliver them!
the judge asks how often christie goes to NA meetings and she says “every day, sometimes 3-4 times a day,” and he commends her effort and also says that he won’t call her a “crackhead” because she’s clearly in recovery. be still my fucking heart! mildred says that during her crack addiction she gave her kids to dcfs and had a $2000 a day habit and i’m sorry, WHAT. i thought crack was cheap??? excuse me for this, but let’s say mildred smoked crack 5 out of 7 days of the week. that is $10,000 a week, and yes i used a calculator to figure that out fuck you! 52 weeks in a year, that’s $520,000. multiply that by the 6 years she admits to having an addiction and bitch that is $3,120,000??? where? HOW????? which part is she exaggerating, the cost of crack or the frequency of use because listen, i have fucked off my fair share of money but all my shit is like “dumb bitch paid for bottle service at the club” not “smoked 3.1 million dollars worth of baking soda????” NO WONDER JAY-Z IS A DAMN BILLIONAIRE.
mildred does not believe christie is off crack. one day mildred was at home, asleep, and her niece woke her up saying that christie was beating in her front door with a crowbar. mildred called the police but apparently they told christie that since she said she lived there she could get in however she needed to get in and drove the fuck off. hello??? that can’t possibly be the law! mildred called them like “um what” so they came back and told her they were going to search her home for whatever christie was claiming she’d left inside. mildred asked the cops to arrest christie as she and her niece and grandchild were covered in shattered glass, but they refused.
the ruling: greg reads a bunch of printed out texts™ christie brought but honestly they don’t matter. he then reads from the police report in which the officer says he told christie to get her things because she’d been illegally evicted, but greg (and i!!) says you can’t be evicted when you weren’t actually a tenant? mildred never even gave christie a key! also, it’s bananas to shatter someone’s glass door to get inside to retrieve...a couple of shirts? girl, go to walmart and steal some like a normal crackhead!
as far as christie’s counterclaim is concerned greg asks to see the list of things she’s suing mildred for and then proceeds to read each item and its value and that shit makes me sad. $10 for underwear, $10 for shorts, i love a frugal queen but come on greg this doesn’t feel right! mildred can’t answer for whether or not she threw out a $20 dress or whatever so greg grants christie’s claim since it appears she’s being honest about the value of her meager belongings. but he also gives mildred her money, because that crowbar shit was out of line. less christie’s judgment that leaves mildred with $2700, enough to get one day of crack and quite a few meals she can actually pay for!
did uncle greg say anything fucked up to anyone: mildred says she hadn’t seen christie in four days, and the judge asks her where she’d gone. “i went somewhere else,” is christie’s sullen response. “mm hmm,” says greg, making the universal hand signal for lighting up a crack rock, “i know where ya went!!”