80-year-old retired chemistry professor took his protest to the plaza outside the federal courthouse in Manhattan. Ron Heicklen had repeatedly stood with a “Jury Info” sign and handed out brochures supporting nullification, the view that jurors who disagree with a law may ignore their oaths and vote to acquit a defendant accused of violating it.

Mr. Heicklen was arrested June, 14, for doing just this. When he was placed under arrest he fell to the floor as, he claims, he always does. As the police were getting him into the car, his pants fell to his ankles, thus he was arrested in his underpants. Mr. Heicklen is currently at Rikers Island Prison in New york, sentenced to three weeks in jail.

Click . . . click. Meg sat there in history class focusing on the time. She had gazed at the clock originally to see when class would end but she continued to stare not particularly thinking of anything or even thinking at all, but in a state of mind where one doesn’t process clear thoughts, with the second hand jutting into place merely in the background. Once Meg so much as realized that she was doing this it was enough to pull her out of this unconscious state and realize her surroundings.

Meg looked at  the back of her hand and then slowly pulled her head up to actually look at her history teacher. Mr. Dickens was strutting across the large room with enthusiasm, utterly convinced he had the full attention of his senior students. Then a faint rapid scribbling pulled Meg’s attention to Kevin’s desk. He was jotting down note after note, his back straight and upright. Meg couldn’t help but think he resembled a turtle with his neck stretched downward towards his paper to make sense of the tiny scribbles on the sheet. Then suddenly realising she should be taking notes she reached for the pencil that she had placed in her tied back hair last period and pulled it to the slightly crumpled piece of line paper in front of her.

Just then the bell rang, a shriling noise that shook all of Oakwood High School as the signal that the day was over. A ripple of chatter sent through the school gathering at the exist, as waves of teenagers pushed to get through the tiny gate opening, like sand grains going through a funnel. Meg walked with her head down, knowing the day wasn’t really over because she was busy with her job at Burger King. As she walked she stepped in an odd zigzag pattern to verify that she crunched every autumn leaf under her overwhelmingly large feet. Burger King was only three blocks away, but because of this it took Meg ten minutes to reach the run down restaurant.

Meg entered the old building from the back, as all employees did. As she pulled the heavy door open it screeched, and a flock of nearby pigeons feasting on an old cupcake darted into flight. Meg scanned her card to check in, and pulled on her work shirt, a white polo displaying the Burger King logo. She walked into the kitchen to start her shift. There was one man getting ready to order. He seemed about six feet tall, his limbs spraying everywhere as he moved, skinny and uncoordinated, his body resembling an alien, or maybe a villain in a claymation that she had seen once before. He approached the counter as Meg’s co-worker, Nathan, took his order, “I’ll take a 20 piece chicken nugget please.”

“Ok, that’ll be $2.98.”

As the man was paying for his meal Meg began to start making the nuggets. She walked over to a cooler and pulled out a tin bucket. In it lay brown bags that contained 10 little pebbles. She opened 2 bags, and a intoxicating stench saturated the air. Preparing chicken nuggets wasn’t particularly her favorite job. She brought the bags over to the deep fryer and turned them over, so that the tiny pellets concealed in a grayish blue powder dribbled into the fryer. Meg watched the pellets grow like sponges soaking up all of the oil and drifting to the top. She went to get something to fish the nuggets out, but the tongs were missing. Things were always mysteriously disappearing from the kitchen, Meg just never noticed. Instead she reached for a ladle, and pulled the nuggets out with that. She placed them into the little box, and placed the box onto the counter. Meg yelled, “20 piece chicken nuggets!”. She watched as the tall alien like man strutted over and grabbed his order. Just then her cell phone rang. “Hello? Who is this?” Meg didn’t recognize the voice or number on the phone.

“Hi. This is officer Barnes. It is my job to inform you that your father Ron Heicklen has been placed under arrest for a recent jury info protest. He is currently at Rikers Island.”

“Ok. Thank you officer.” She hung up the phone. This news didn’t exactly surprise Meg. This kind of news came often to her, and it had become more normal for stuff like this to happen to her dad, ever since he got wrapped up in these protests.

Meg stood there for about five minutes staring at the tiles thinking about her dad, and how her mom would feel about the news. Just then she saw the manager approach her. He was a round man, wobbling with each step he took, and he had a scowl on his face, with his hairy eyebrows pushed up against each other like little creatures sitting on his forehead. She despised him, mostly because he despised her. He gazed at Meg, and cleared his throat. “Meg, I’m firing you from Burger King. There is evidence that you have been stealing from the kitchen. There is no need to explain yourself, the decision has been made. Please return your card and work polo at my office,” he pointed to the back corner of the kitchen with a musty red curtain separating what he called his office from the kitchen. “You have until 5 to pack up and leave.”

“Ok. Um . . . ok.” Meg replied as she looked at her watch. It was 4:51. She turned
in her stuff and started to walk home. Meg was disappointed. She didn’t really enjoy working at Burger King, and she didn’t get paid very much anyway, but she was mad that she lost her job, she was frustrated that she was accused of stealing. She knew for a fact that she hadn’t stolen from the kitchen, and anyway, what would one even want to do with the Burger King equipment anyway? It was totally unfair. She looked down at her feet kicking a pebble along the sidewalk as she approached her house. It was just a few blocks further down from Burger King, and it was a tall brick house, sitting next to its siblings on one long curvy street. As Meg walked to the front door she pushed the clumps of leaves off the pathway and onto the lawn, where piles of Autumn leaves, acorns, and feathers sat waiting for her to sweep away, although being the procrastinator Meg was, she would just save that job for another day. She went inside and climbed the stairs to her room to sit down and rest. Then her cell phone rang once again.

“Hello, who is this?” Meg also didn’t recognize the number that her phone was displaying.
“Hey Meg, this is your dad Ron, I’m calling from jail to check up on you, as you probably already found out I was arrested the other day. So, how was your day? Fun?”

“Well, I got fired from Burger King. They accused me of stealing from the kitchen.” Meg could hear her dad smack his lips together a few times in pondering thought.

“This . . . um . . . we can’t let them win!”

“Win?” Meg had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yes, win. We can’t let them get away with this. It’s injustice that needs to be corrected. Hey! We can sue them! I can help you sue them from jail. We can sue them so that they pay you for 9 months, and you wouldn’t have to work! How would that be? What do you think?”

“That sounds great.” Meg replied. That would be pretty nice, she thought to herself, 9 months of being paid without working. Plus, Burger King deserved it. “Ok. Thanks dad. Bye.” Meg hung up the phone. She laid back and closed her eyes for some time, and then slowly drifted to sleep.

The next day Meg walked over to Burger King to notify the manager that she was suing them. She pulled open the back door and walked to the corner of the kitchen that the manager called his “office”. She swiped the curtain back to look at the short chubby man. He twitched in surprise and then looked up at her. He was sitting on a chair to tall for his body, listening to music. He pushed himself off the chair so that he fell a few inches, and then his little legs hit the ground. He wobbled over to Meg and tilted his head as a signal for her to begin. She handed him a note on which was written that she was suing Burger King. As he was reading the note something strange fell out of his pocket. It hit the ground with a clink, and then it rattled. As Meg took a closer look she found that it was the tongs that were missing from the kitchen earlier. The manager looked up and she could see his face twist up into knots. He darted down to pick it up. “Wait a minute . . .” Meg started. She walked over to a little drawer placed next to his chair. She pulled it open and there lay all of the kitchen tools that Burger King had reported that she had stolen herself. Meg quickly yanked her phone out of her pocket and snapped a picture, then ran out the back door.
Later that day Meg was sitting at home looking at the picture that she had taken. You could clearly see all of the utensils in the little drawer, and you could see the manager's hand attempting to block the camera, with the tongs still in it. It was all of the proof she needed. Just then, the doorbell rang. As Meg opened the door she saw her dad standing there with his arms stretched waiting for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him then took a step back to see a cop standing behind him. He opened his mouth and began to speak, “The judge found him innocent after taking a second look at the case. He’s free to go.”

“Thanks officer.” Meg replied. Her dad stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Dad, look at this!” Meg was excited to show him the photo. She held the phone out in front of her displaying the picture. She could see a smile grow on his face. It”s all the proof we need.
A week later, Meg rushed into the car and pulled the door shut. Her dad was already sitting in the front seat with a cigarette in his hand. A puff of smoke lingered out of his mouth as Meg snatched the cigar out of his hand. “Smoking’s not good for you, you know that.”
“Fine.” Ron replied. Meg scrolled down the window to let the fumes air out. They were finally driving to the court for trial.

When they arrived they climbed the long staircase that bordered the entrance. Meg had butterflies in her stomach, and she had a spring in each step she took. They walked into the courtroom and took a seat. As Meg sat down she could see her old manager across the room already seated. His arms were crossed, and his tiny legs were hovering inches above the ground.

“Alright, alright settle down.” The Judge bellowed, although everyone was already settled. He had a look on his face that demonstrated he didn’t want to be there in the first place. He sighed, “As I understand it, Ron Heicklen is suing Burger King because of false accusation of stealing. If Heicklen wins the case, his daughter will get payed for nine months . . . without working. May I call Heicklen up to defend his case.”

Ron stood up, “Yes your honor, to start of this case we have a piece of evidence that clearly shows that my daughter was not stealing from the Burger King kitchen.” Ron stepped forward and handed the judge his phone with the picture already pulled up. As the judge was studying it Meg’s dad continued to talk, “As you can see, the drawer in the picture contains almost every tool from Burger King, except for the pair of tongs. The pair of tongs, is in the manager’s hand.”

“Interesting,” the judge replied, “Does Burger King have any defense against this?”. Meg looked over towards where her old manager was sitting. The group of people surrounding him slowly shook their heads. “Well, I guess that closes this case.” The judge had a big smile across his face, clearly excited that the case was over so quickly. As Meg and her dad were leaving the courtroom she overheard a woman telling someone that the manager shouldn’t have bothered to fire her with such a stupid reason, and not even back it up with evidence. She was right.

Meg was disappointed that the trial was over so quickly and not as interesting as the ones she had seen on TV, but she was glad that they had won the case. As they were walking down the steps towards their car, Meg tilted her head back to look up at her dad. “Hey, let's also not go to Burger King again, I never really liked that place anyway.”

“Yeah, that’ll show them. They really miss our business.” He said sarcastically, and good feeling of revenge settled into Meg’s stomach.