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Today concluded the trial of Dr. Sam Beckett, whose misguided leap into time travel ruined the lives of many people. When I took control of his imaging chamber and other apparatus that was part of his evil plan, my allies and I were able to gun down everyone involved with this "project quantum leap" nonsense, but Dr. Beckett escaped our bullets and was on the run for several weeks before an elite unit of marshalls led by a tough, no-nonsense man named Samuel Gerard brought him in.

I will share with you now details from my interviews with the New York City police and my testimony in court on these matters. I feel this needs to be entered into the public record so that it may be forever etched into The Anals of History, i.e. the true history of the world as seen through the eyes of straight white men in their late 80s with no moral compass. This is the ultimate authority as all else is indeed fake news. These are your wise men and don't snicker, even Jesus needed wise men. Obey the masters. Remember your place and stay in it.

When news of Dr. Beckett's arrest reached me, it was through a telephone call from something called the Special Victims Unit out of Manhattan. When I came in, I was greeted by an attractive older woman with an uncanny resemblance to my old lover Jayne Mansfield who I introduced to anal sex in the early 1950s when I was in my twenties and full of what the Internet kiddies call "vim and vigor." When I came in, I was told to go into a very plain room with a table where a black gentleman who looked consistently irritated just from looking at me began asking me questions.

"How did you hear about this imaging chamber stuff? Internet?"

"I stumbled upon it while foraging for nuts."

"Foraging for nuts? Are you some kind of chipmunk or something?" He then pulled back as I started laughing at his remark and burst open the rudimentary stitches (yarn and knitting needles) in my gut. My intestines and other elements of my rotting from abuse organs spilled out of me. "Dude, what the fuck? Damn! Someone get a mop in here."

He stormed off while giving me a really dirty look. I stuffed my stuff back inside my body and yelled out a request for a can of pop, which the police have routinely offered to guests since the 1940s.

Instead, he came back with a sigh and told me, "Look, the D.A. wants me to work with you here, but you have to work with me. I can't have all your shit spilling out of your body like that. Doesn't it bother you?"

"I've been through a lot. I was the Bear of Berlin. I was bred for a single purpose: genocide."

"Those are peripheral matters, of course," said my new slick Willy style lawyer who had just woken up from a cat nap. "What my client tells you about other matters you can overlook."

"I don't want to touch that stuff with a ten-foot pole, dude," the cop told the lawyer. "Look, Mr. Goats, all we need you to do is tell us how you knew this Dr. Beckett guy was taking control of other peoples bodies, touching them inappropriately while in their bodies, and even engaging in sexual relations with people while in control of those bodies, which as far is I am concerned is straight-up rape. I want to take this motherfucker down hard. All I need from you is the straight dope on this sicko. Are we cool here?"

"That works," said slick lawyer guy.

"Don't talk to the brave men and women of today's modern FBI on me. I have a record," I told him.

"Like I said, we just need to know what this Beckett pervert was up to."

"Well, we discovered, my agents and me, that there was this high tech type building up in the hills. We were hunting coon when--"

"Excuse me? You were WHAT?"

"Raccoons. We like making those Daniel Boone hats and selling them at country fairs."

"That better be what you mean."

"I don't understand. What else could I mean?"

"Nevermind, continue."

"We saw these people moving around and there was a big computer with lots of colored blinking lights, so we knew this was against God's will for sure. There is never any reason for a computer to have that many blinking lights on it. This was one of my issues with the long forgotten classic television show Star Trek despite the incredibly nice tight buns the character named Spock had. The way he showed off that absolutely gorgeous ass of his in those tight black pajama pants still gets me worked up in the shower."

"Look, dude, I told you I'm not going to arrest you for peripheral matters, but don't make me put a bullet in your head just for making me sick to my stomach. Do we understand each other?"

"I've been shot in the head seven times. All the fragments are still moving around in there."

"I have no trouble believing that. Okay, so you saw the blinking computer lights and this building and then what?"

"We scampered, as best we can do, since my agents and I are old and have mental problems, and we looked inside. There were these people with clipboards and one guy was in this thing they called the imaging chamber and he lit up like a light bulb and vanished and then some other person appeared where he had been and everyone started telling him not to freak out, but the person would anyway and none of them ever, ever recovered psychologically from what was done to them."

"Are you sure most of those words are in your vocabulary?"

"If I said them, they must be."

"Seems out of character for you to sound so lucid, but continue."

"Well, I am an agent of Hades and I am assigned to the Joan Crawford led work group, so I do have some access to Hades. I went there to find someone who could help and I extracted Enrico Fermi, the scientist that the Barry Manilow hit Copacabana was written about, and we went back to the facility. Rico, as I call him, was able to determine that they were traveling in time by leaping into the bodies of other people in other times and living as them for a while."

"Damn, dude. I have worked a lot of fucked up cases, but this one makes me wish Munch was still around." He got up and told me he'd send someone to walk me out of the station (this is the first time I've gotten out of a police station without having to kill most of the people in it). As he was leaving, he added, "We'll get this asshole the needle, I promise."

*  *  *  *  *

I went back to the cabin in Utica I was hiding out in from the FBI and waited for word. I'd given the NYPD my address and phone number there and they told me to "sit tight" and wait until I heard from them. With Rico purring in my lap and Chopper shooting wildlife and hikers to relieve tension, I began humming a homily.

*  *  *  *  *

Three weeks later, I was finally called. Before that, I got very bored and I went to the imaging chamber even though the cops had surrounded it with yellow police tape. Rico had made adjustments so I could now travel into other people's bodies without traveling in time and I leaped into the body of a man named Elliot. I thought this was a mistake as he was in a one room apartment that was very messy. He was drunk and had a gun he was holding to his head.

Then I realized that he had once worked for the same police unit as had interviewed me. He was suicidal and depressed and needed friends and I needed information, so it was only natural for me to walk his body over to the police station and act like I was just coming by to say hello. I whined about missing the work and wishing I was still a cop, and finally some idiot agreed to let me watch them interview Dr. Sam Beckett from behind a special glass. He was being interviewed by a woman named Benson, who was the same one who looked like my former partner in anal sex, with the guy who had interviewed me sitting in there with her.

"Okay, Dr. Beckett, we've already gone over everything. What you did to these people you 'leaped' into, the liberties you took, it is all over for you. No deals, no mercy. You're going to die in prison, you sick pervert."

"Lady, please, look, I was just righting wrongs and fixing things so people's lives would be better."

"You know who said the same things, Beckett? Nazis. I'm done with you."

*  *  *  *  *

Once I leaped back into myself and got the call, I went to court where the judge was a very angry, no nonsense woman named Judy. I sat down and tried to be quiet as I watched Dr. Sam Beckett standing up at a podium on one side of the court and Benson and this prosecutor guy stood at the other.

"Okay, Lieutenant Benson, what do we have here? I know the assistant DA is here, but I want to here from you. What's going on?"

"Well, your honor, this man, Dr. Beckett, built a time travel machine that allows him to leap into the bodies of other people at different points in time and then he has his way with them while he is in control of their bodies."

"Seriously? You're not putting me on, here? What you're saying sounds like science fiction."

"It might, your honor, but I assure it it is true. We had our techs look at the time travel equipment and it is capable of allowing a person to travel in time by leaping into the bodies of other people during the course of the person who is doing the traveling's lifetime."

"That is some very sick stuff. What do you have to say for yourself, Dr. Beckett?"

"Your honor, look, I am a scientist. I was trying to determine if there was a way to travel in time and it just happened to work out this way. I never had anything but the best intentions..."

"You who said the same thing? The Bolsheviks. Now," said the judge as she looked down over the top of her glasses at Benson, "you say you have witnesses or something?"

"Yes, your honor, we brought in several people who were survivors of these takeovers of other people's bodies, which, I assure you, never had any purpose other than using these people to fulfill Dr. Beckett's twisted sexual fantasies."

"Twisted sexual fantasies?" screamed out Dr. Beckett. "Look, I don't know where you are getting this from but you are just making things up about me now!"

"Enough, Dr. Beckett," scolded the judge. "Lieutenant Benson, have your witnesses stand up."

The first was a woman who was shaking like a leaf.

"Go ahead, ma'am," said the judge calmly. "Don't be afraid. I have this big bailiff here and I know he is just waiting for an excuse to pound you, who is a pathetic excuse for a doctor, into the ground."

"What?" yelled out Dr. Beckett.

"Be quiet, Dr. Beckett, or I'll have Pirro sit in for me. If you were a podiatrist, trust me, I wouldn't let you anywhere near my feet. Go ahead, young lady."

"Well, Dr. Beckett leaped into my body when I was twelve and told a boy in my class that I liked him. Two years later that boy was murdered by my future husband and I was taken into the woods and forced into a sex cult, all because of Dr. Beckett's meddling!"

"When you were twelve? Look, I don't need to see any other witnesses. Judgment for the plaintiff, life in the rapiest part of the state penal system and Dr. Beckett's assets will be released to, well, according to my paperwork here... his assets will be released to his victims and to a Berhardt Goats? Is Mr. Goats here today?"

"Yes, your honor," I said as I stood up and raised my hand while wearing my best Brooks Brothers suit and Walmart tie.

"It says here that you uncovered this perverted sex crime time travel scheme and brought it to the attention of law enforcement. Is that correct?"

"It is, your honor," Benson told her.

"Then you have this court's highest thanks. You have made friends in law enforcement today, friend Behr."

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