Resolved: Brendan is a Buzz Kill

===Closing Arguments=== *A brown, wooden room somewhere in the south swells with the dim autumn light pouring onto the floor in thin rectangles. A man, dressed in a pin stripe suit, stands from behind a table and approaches a measured, and weary jury. His shoes clack on the oak floor as he slowly walks to them, arms behind him, eyes on the floor. He stops in front of the jury box, his gaze ascends and meets the eyes of these impartial, sweet smelling jurists, his voice pours over them like velvet...* Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The defense has tried to confuse the facts of this trial with feelings of emotion, sympathy, and calls for understanding. But the facts of the case are these: The defendant, Brendan, has killed Buzz. This is not in dispute. The defense never questions what Brendan has done, nor has he disputed the guilt Brendan feels over his crime. Buzz is dead ladies and gentlemen, Buzz is dead, and Brendan killed it. These, are the facts of the case. Instead of disputing the death of Buzz at the hands of Brendan, the defense merely tries to convince you all to reduce the charge from murder, to manslaughter. The defense pleads that Brendan couldn't have meant to kill Buzz, that Brendan's impossible standards and political enthusiasm converged into an accident that Brendan never meant to occur. "Intent", this is what the defense disputes. *The man in the pin stripe suit walks away from the jury and gazes out a window into the fleeting twilight of dusk. The illuminated stripes on his face reveal the dichotomy of his soul, dark in places, light in others. Withered and hardened, but also hopeful and beaming. A man untouched by time, an old soul, parched for hope in a world of broken dreams. He glanced back to the jury over his shoulder, his eyes scanned theirs as he continued* The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. The best of intentions can't bring back Buzz today, Brendan's actions have assured that, regardless if Brendan meant to end Buzz's life, or not. *The man opens his hand and extends his arm, gesturing toward a woman in the audience, who weeps into a handkerchief. Her shoulders rise and fall in short bursts as she silences her sorrow with both hands. The man's eyes are piercing as he looks back at the jury* Buzz's widow doesn't care whether Brendan planned on killing Buzz or not. Because she knows that is outside of the resolution, and Mrs. Buzz understands what the defense doesn't, you have to affirm or deny the resolution, not affirm it but say it was an accident. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Brendan killed Buzz. The defense admits it, Brendan admits it, and most of you have witnessed it. Call it whatever you like, Buzz-slaughter, First, Second, Twentieth degree murder; I don't care. The fact remains Buzz has died at the hands of Brendan. *The jury nodded their heads, the logic of the man was undeniable. Brendan had killed Buzz, and everybody knew it, even I, the Narrator, know it, and the fact that I am now saying it to the reader should even more firmly declare its truth. The man walked back to his chair, his shoes clacking on the floor as he went. He looked to the sobbing widow in the corner, then back to the jury, and said with the full force of his calm and confident voice...* Vote PRO. *At this the jury's eyes fell upon the defense attorney, who was furiously applying lipstick to his belly button while blowing bubbles in his chocolate milk through a bendy straw. The sudden silence in the room woke him from his trance, and his head turned violently toward the jury, his eyes wide like a deers caught in the headlights of a truck. He cleared his throat and pulled out his notes. After a moment he stood, his red high heel pumps clicking as he walked to the center of the courtroom. He paused and the jury gasped as a rodent of some kind came scrambling from the bottom his pant leg. Nate giggled shyly and put his arms in one of those "what do you expect? I have no idea what I'm doing here" sort of poses, and began in his shrill cartoonish clown voice....*