Order in the Court

Well, obviously the order is not Pepsi. I don't know: if I were a juror on a trial where it seems impossible to arrive at a decision because everyone has lied, inveigled, played silly games, double crossed their "friends," wrapped ballots, or were they ballot applications, in newspapers, inquired if anyone was wired, licked envelopes, forgot everything but their names, canvassed housing projects, and in general acted as if in a Grade B crime movie, and lives in a city where this type of activity has been going on "since Christ was a carpenter," and where the Prosecutor has agreed to grant immunity to six or so confessed bad actors in order to prosecute another two, although all seem equally guilty: I think if I were sequestered in a room trying to make sense out of all this garbage, and I craved a Pepsi to help me navigate the mass of lies, plea bargains, and deals, and if the judge refused to give me a Pepsi,even if I said please, I think I would be a little affronted and would be tempted to render a very hasty judgment. Let's see what happens tomorrow when the jurors file back into that room, carrying their bottles of Pepsi brought from home. Runaway Jury!