"You stand accused of idea theft. How do you plea?" Powdered wig and all come staring my way.
"I'd like to know which ideas I've stolen and from whom." This is about as serious as I can be in the face of all this - whatever it is.
"Very well. The court will read the specific accusations." Throats are cleared. Eyeglasses are adjusted. "In the case of Morpheus versus Jones, Mr. Jones, the defendant stands accused by Morpheus, the plaintiff of stealing ideas from dreams, putting them into writing and passing them off as his own. While there have been thousands of ideas, incidents and characters stolen, Morpheus has chosen three specific incidents with which to make his case." Eyes are peering over glasses now.
"Do go on." I do this because I have to.
"Incident one, the shotgun stairs, wherein the defendant dreamed of being shotgunned on his stairway and then duplicated the incident almost verbatim in a story. Incident two, the rainbow waiter, wherein the defendant dreamed of a man made entirely of rainbows and then used the character and some of the words spoken by that character in the dream in a story. Incident three, this courtroom, the proceedings, the judge character, and so on - all of which the defendant is desperately trying to remember as they unfold and which he will later transcribe verbatim into a blog entry." A knowing nod, a pause, then more. "Is that all clear, Mr. Jones?"
"Perfectly." Contemplates the ceiling in search of the right words. "Am I to understand that my dreams are not my intellectual property, then?"
"Yes. That is to say that is part of the prosecutor's case - to establish that your dreams are not yours but rather that Morpheus is the author of them and you are merely a viewer and thus by using them in your writing you are in fact plagiarizing." The tiniest of smirks.
"While I agree that I have or will in fact used all those ideas you listed in my writings I dispute the fact that they are Morpheus's property." Returning the tiniest of smirks slightly larger.
"This promises to be an interesting trial then, Mr. Jones." Waits. "Not guilty, then?"
"Yes, your honor." Also waits.
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