My client's water broke from behind the lectern

May it please the Court: "Your honor, my client just sprang a leak." She was wearing blue jeans that would have to be thrown out. I smelled it. The filthy portent of another baby who would would slide from her mother's ninety pound body and require detox before her tiny life begins beneath the canopy of the Tennessee Department of Child Protective Services. My client's wafting filth, her fifth such enterprise. This is Appalachian American Ennui.