Dept. of Petty Affairs — Tribunal Hearing #007
The Case File
- — Exhibit A: The Leash —
Filed by Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand
(Robe still unwashed)
See, Boss, the leash ain’t leather — it’s logic. Paper logic.
A Lease says:
“Here’s four walls, now dance monthly to keep ‘em.”
It’s math dressed as mercy.
Logic says:
"Pay rent, get shelter."
Reality says:
"Miss once, you’re a street poet with raccoon company."
Landlord says:
“It’s just business.”
Jerry says:
"Then so is gnawing through the leash when you ain’t looking."
What cracks me up is how clinical it all feels. A leash disguised as a contract. A choke chain measured in clauses. It’s the one system where you can follow every rule and still lose — because the logic isn’t designed to protect you. It’s designed to keep you pacing circles, barking on command.
And humor? That’s the only way I don’t snap the leash myself. I laugh because otherwise I’d start an Audit with a Battleaxe™ right in the leasing office.
##Graffiti on the Tribunal Wall:
- "The leash isn’t law. It’s just paperwork with teeth."