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I ordered a hitman to whack a judge and that judge hired the same man to whack me.
The hitman got fifty grand from each of us, that was his fee.
But there was something the hitman didn't figure.
He died of a stroke before he could pull the trigger.
The judge said he was going to get me disbarred and I was wining and dining his girlfriend.
Those were the two reasons why the hitman was going to bring both of our lives to an end.
When the judge and I learned what happened, we made a deal.
We were both extremely relieved because we weren't killed.
Yes, I'm a crooked lawyer but that judge isn't a law abiding citizen either.
When it came to his girl, he agreed not to have me disbarred if I'd leave her.
That hitman weighed 400 pounds, that's why he had the stroke.
If it hadn't been for obesity, the judge and I would've croaked.

(This is a fictional poem)

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