MadWriting7

Rome is an ordinary man with an ordinary life—until one day, he snaps. After years of feeling unheard and unappreciated, Rome makes a drastic decision that changes everything. But instead of hiding from the consequences, he decides to tell his story, writing a manifesto that challenges society's expectations of marriage and relationships.  

When Rome's actions land him in court, the trial becomes a spectacle. The jury, a group of ordinary men, seems to understand Rome in a way no one else does. As the proceedings unfold, the lines between right and wrong blur, and the courtroom becomes a stage for a much larger conversation about love, marriage, and the pressures of modern life.

Written by @Rebel_king_Rebel
!craXy mad writing!

How to Start a Revolution with a Frying Pan

Rome was mid-sip of his third cup of coffee when the knock came. Not the timid tap-tap of a neighbor borrowing sugar, but the kind of knock that screamed "Hello, we're here to ruin your day!" He glanced at the clock—7:15 a.m.—and sighed. Couldn't they have waited until after Good Morning America?

He opened the door to find Detective Lee flanked by two uniformed officers. The detective looked like she'd already had three coffees herself, her eyes sharp and unblinking. The officers, meanwhile, looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.

"Romulus Pine," Lee said, holding up a warrant. "You're under arrest for the murder of Melissa Pine."

Rome glanced down at his mug. "Can I finish my coffee first?"

Lee stared at him. The officers stared at him. A squirrel in the yard probably stared at him.

"It's a light roast," Rome added, as if this explained everything. "Ethically sourced. Fair trade. I'd hate to waste it."

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're joking."

"I'm emancipating myself from rushed mornings," Rome said, straightening his spine. "It's in the manifesto. Chapter Four: The Tyranny of Time Management."

One of the officers snorted. Lee shot him a look that could melt steel.

"Fine," she said. "Drink. The. Coffee."

Rome took his time. He swirled the mug like a sommelier, inhaled the aroma, and sipped with theatrical slowness. The officers shifted awkwardly. Lee checked her watch. The squirrel fled.

"You know," Rome said, gesturing with the mug, "Melissa always said I took too long with my coffee. But who's laughing now?"

"Exactly," Rome said. "She never appreciated my process."

Finally, he set the mug down with a satisfied clink. "Alright. Let's emancipate."

The interrogation room smelled like regret and stale donuts. Rome sat across from Lee, who slapped a file on the table. Inside was a photo of Melissa's body in the trunk of his car. The detective also introduced the evidence of the pan, lodged inside a transparent bag, which she set on the table.

"So," Lee said. "Let's talk about the pan."

"Ah, yes," Rome said, nodding sagely. "A metaphor for marital oppression. Cast iron. Heavy. Just like expectations."

Lee blinked. "It's a murder weapon."

"Just as Lee was about to press further, the door burst open. A man in a tailored suit strode in, his briefcase in one hand and a copy of 'The Emancipation of Rome' in the other.

"Detective Lee," the man said, his voice smooth as butter, "I'm Mathew Coleman, Mr. Pine's attorney. And I must say, I'm a huge fan of your work, Detective. Your dedication to justice is truly inspiring."

Lee blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Uh, thanks?"

Mathew turned to Rome, his smile widening. "Rome, my man! Jonathan Honda sent me. He said you needed the best, and here I am."

Rome nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Coleman. I knew Jonathan wouldn't let me down."

"Please, call me Marty," he said before turning back to Lee, his expression serious. "Now, Detective, I understand you have some questions for my client. But let me remind you that Rome is not just a man. He's a moment, he's a movement, he's a revolutionary!"

Lee raised an eyebrow. "He's a murder suspect."

"Allegedly," Mathew said, wagging a finger. "And let's not forget the words of Rome's manifesto: 'Violence is just honesty without filters.'"

Lee stared at him. "You're quoting his manifesto now?"

"Of course," Mathew said, his smile never wavering. "It's a masterpiece. A call to arms for every man who's ever felt oppressed by the expectations of marriage."

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be a long day."

At the jury selection pool, the bailiff handed them questionnaires. If one of the questions read: "Do you believe nagging is a form of psychological abuse?"

At least twelve pens would have circled "Yes."

The Importance of a Good Brew