his is a story about a young lawyer named Russell Radley. More interestingly to the reader, perhaps, it is also a story about gratuitous full-frontal nudity. As our story begins, Radley is nude in his office at a third-rate law firm in Washington, D.C. Subsequently, Radley, who is insane, will thrust open the door and run around his employer's offices, wiping his bare ass on any papers he finds, including but not limited to: client files, legal memoranda, the Federal Reporter(1), and/or any other publications on the desks and/or any other surfaces in the offices of the partners of his law firm and/or any other persons and/or entities therein.

Why will Radley do this? The most obvious answer, albeit a completely fallacious one, is that Radley will act out the repressed desires of the author, who is a lawyer in a fourth-rate Washington, D.C. law firm.

We must reject this explanation because it has several obvious shortcomings, including but not limited to the fact that: (1) the author is only 28 years old, whereas the character Radley is 32; (2) the author has no repressed desire to place his bare ass on the Federal Reporter, and thinks it a fine publication; and (3) unlike Radley, the author does not (a) feel trapped and/or crucified by a so-called profession which is nothing more than a three-card-monty scam run by pimps who obtain clients by procuring women and other bribes for incompetent human resource managers, (b) the author does not believe that the so-called "upper echelons" of law firms are populated by incompetent, arrogant asswipes who, because they somehow managed to obtain one or two clients, believe that they are the reincarnation of Felix F-cking Frankfurter(2) (c) unlike Radley, the author does not believe that these f-ckfaces would be incapable of wiping their own asses without a thirty-person support staff, and (d) the author is not galled by the fact that these sh-tfaces who are not morally worthy of judging the Nuremburg defendants, that these scums (sic) sit in judgment of the author, who admittedly is one poor example of a lawyer except for his amazing analytical powers.(3) In other words, there is no truth to this theory.

Radley's true motivation is far more complex and resides in the gestalt of the existentialist works of Camus and Sartre as well as in the Anglo-Saxon literary cannon (including Beowulf and Chaucer) of which the author may or may not have skimmed the Cliff Notes versions in Junior High School.

The climax of the story will of course be the hero's untimely death. This will result from accidentally, or perhaps not so accidentally, impaling himself on the dangerously if not recklessly sharp pen and pencil set of the firm's managing partner. When this pen and pencil set is left unattended, with no posted warnings nor guarded by any of the multitudinous safety devices which are technologically feasible and/or justified by a cost/benefit analysis and is situated where a reasonable person exercising normal care as defined by an objective community standard would never leave it unless intending to cause grievous bodily harm and/or death, Radley is torn completely in two from his rectum to his pneumothorax. The question which will be raised by this tragedy is whether the pneumothorax is a part of the human body, whether it is a medical condition, or whether it is part of an insect.(4)

Before the reader complains about the potentially objectionable subject matter of the imminent story, he or she should know that there is another, marginally more family-oriented story which may be substituted in its place, depending upon reader preferences. This story is one in which the author is the central character, and is set during a brief period when the author represented indigent criminal defendants in the District of Columbia Superior Court. The potential substitute story is based on a criminal case in which the author was involved: The United States of America v. Russell Radley, 788 A. 2d. 1243 (D.C. App. 1992).

This story, which mercifully is told in the first person, begins: I first met Russell Radley on Tuesday, March 30th, 1992, at 10:12 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time. Daylight Savings Time was one of the least intelligent ideas conceived by Benjamin Franklin. It was an idea that everyone suspected was bad from the start but people went along with anyway because they were afraid to say anything--much like the Nazis.

We were in the lockup of the D.C. courthouse. I was assigned to Radley's case. In fact, it was my first significant case as a solo practitioner. My previous legal experience had been as a paper-pusher at a ninth-rate Washington, D.C. law firm. Radley had been arrested for attempting to split his best friend in two from his head to his pneumothorax. Radley seemed to have some pretty good reasons for attacking his friend including that his friend was tapping his phone line, ratting on him to the I.R.S., and stealing his patentable inventions. Glancing at the police report, I noticed that Radley had attempted to recruit the arresting officer for a C.I.A. strike team that he was putting together. I realized, right then and there, that I was possibly in over my head. If Radley's statements and the police reports were to be believed, his case implicated the defense community, the military-industrial complex, the G-7 summit, and the Milton-Bradley Corporation -- makers of Parcheesi.(5) When Radley showed me his patent applications, I concluded that either my public school education had been woefully inadequate or one of us was insane.

I decided that I could not disregard Radley's suggestions of a government conspiracy and to take every reasonable precaution to protect myself. Immediately after leaving Radley at the jail, I went home and changed my address and phone number. I grabbed my passport, two pairs of clean underwear (and a pair that was sort of clean) and headed to the airport. On the way to the airport I noticed that I was being followed by what appeared to be a taxi. Every time I turned toward the airport, he followed. There was no way to lose him. Radley had been right. I began to fear that the airport idea was too dangerous so I headed toward my parents' house in the suburbs of New York City. The drive lasted five hours. Once there, I hid in the basement for approximately the next four years.

Author's note: The author wishes to apologize for the unauthorized and mostly untrue statements contained in this story so far. The preceding portions of this document are not the work-product of the author but were actually produced by Mr. Russell Radley, the lunatic described herein, curiously enough, by himself. Needless to say, Mr. Radley is not an attorney and could be subject to criminal prosecution for claiming to be an attorney if he were not, in fact, completely and utterly insane. In addition, the so-called adverse performance evaluation of the author offered by Mr. Radley in footnote (3) is an obvious forgery. The disparaging evaluation represents the author's self-assessment rather than the views of any employer or former employer of the author. How Mr. Radley obtained the author's self-assessment remains unclear. Moreover, the author has no connection to either of the story ideas described by Mr. Radley. The intended short story has no connection to either of these stories and regards subject matter that is in no way related to anything or anyone previously described herein.

Now that so much of the reader's time has been wasted, the author supposes that there is little chance that the reader remains interested in hearing the real story. That is rather a shame, because as the author or somebody else mentioned earlier, the real story contains significant (and the author does mean significant) amounts of full-frontal-nudity. And by nudity, let the author assure you that he does not mean partial-clothedness or in fact any other state of dress or undress implying intercession of opaque matter between the reader and the subject's frontal genitalia, as described in Article IV Section 2 of the Interstate Commerce Act. Said genitalia will be completely exposed to detailed inspection by the reader as set forth in subsection 4, infra. On the chance that the reader has magnanimously rejected termination of further participation in this storytelling/genitalia examination process, the author will now begin the real and true story entitled: "The Detailed Written Examination of Genitalia Pursuant to a Bilateral Executory Contract as Modified by Section 9 of the Uniform Commercial Code, 24 U.S.C. Section 132," to wit: Once upon a time, there were a pair of gratuitously exposed genitalia. Description of said genitalia is contained in attachment A7, supra. As stated in the controlling sub-section "[n]o obstruction(s) shall be placed in the vicinity of [the] genital(s) such that said obstruction shall in any way prohibit, prevent, obstruct, confuse or hinder the viewing or examination of said genitalia by interested persons having previously shown cause why said genitalia should be viewed by said individuals in writing under seal by two attesting witnesses, said witnesses, being married, shall not be first cousins of each other...."