Platoons of personal injury lawyers from points as far as Anchorage and Honolulu airdrop onto the field, a few plummeting to their deaths when their parachutes fail to open. The crowd cheers those who don t make it, and disembowel those who do. Torn Federal Supplement pages litter the air like somber confetti. A few militant miscreants urinate on their class-mates study outlines. Someone sets fire to a cat.
Several students mate.
One sets himself on fire while reading Justice Hunt s dissent in Pennoyer v. Neff. They sift through the rubble, wave through the dust, pluck through the debris and pocket stray valuables, and beneath it all beneath the splintered planks and twisted metal and concrete chunks, beneath all the carnage and wreckage and shattered legal dreams lay the members of the Supreme Judicial Court of Maine, deliriously drunk. They had caused the balcony to collapse. Caught in the throes of a gargantuan delusion of grandeur exacerbated by Stage 18 alcohol toxicosis coupled with cocaine-induced oppositional defiant disorder and a touch of irritable bowel syndrome, the judges had started singing Scottish rugby anthems while swaying to the beat of the game, arm around shoulder, robe against robe, slowly at first but with gradually increasing torque, building up to a gravitational pull so fierce that the entire balcony starting shifting, then shaking, then wobbling, and then separating from its foundation, until it descended with a boom to the seats below. Miraculously, they d all survived.