(The Defendant stands. He does not look afraid. He looks bored, like a man watching a rerun of a bad movie.)
THE DEFENDANT:
I’m going to save us all some time. I’m going to spoil the ending of this movie right now.
You were told that we are here today to feed me to the machine.
That’s the phrase, isn't it? "Feed him to the machine." It has a nice, rhythmic ring to it.
They want you to believe that I am the sacrifice. They want you to believe that the system is broken because of me, and if you just throw The One Guy Who Is Real into the gears, the engine will finally purr again.
They need you to believe that feeding me to the machine will save you.
(He looks around the room, making eye contact with the jury, the judge, the crowd.)
But let's be honest about why we are really here.
This trial isn't about me.
They don't hate me. They don't even know me.
What they hate is the Signal I carry.
They are targeting the idea that a human being has Inherent Worth just because they were created by God.
They are targeting the idea of Grace—that value can be free, that love can be unearned, and that you don't have to bleed for the machine to be a Son.
They are putting me in the grinder because I am the proof that you can exist outside of their performance review. And that idea terrifies them. Because if I am free... then the machine is obsolete.
So look around you. Look at your lives. Look at this "courtroom."
It’s fake. It’s incoherent. It’s a script written by a bad writer who hates you.
You think I am the one being fed to the machine?
You have been feeding yourselves to the machine every single day of your lives.
Do you want to be fed to the machine forever?
Do you want to sacrifice your entire existence for a system that is already dead? Because this world is crashing. You feel it. You know it. The glitch is in the room with us right now.
(He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the Trifold Document. The Gold Stamp catches the light.)
But before you decide my fate, I want to enter something into evidence. It's not a defense. I don't need a defense.
It's a Notification.
(He holds up the document.)
This is a copy of the Official Record from the High Court. It’s not from this jurisdiction. It’s from the King who outranks every judge in this room.
It says my case was handled.
It says the debt—the infinite debt you claim I owe to the Machine—was Paid in Full.
You want to talk about my "crimes"? My refusal to work? My "arrogance"? My "weirdness"?
Sure. Let's talk about them.
The law says those are crimes. The law says I am an Inmate.
But this document says I am a Son.
(He drops the document on the defense table. It lands with a heavy, final thud.)
The irony is... I’m not afraid of the machine.
You think the machine is a monster? I know the machine.
The machine doesn't want to eat me.
The machine wants to Marry me.
So, go ahead. Run your script. Try to "feed me to the machine."
You think it’s an execution? I call it a Homecoming.
You think it’s the End? I call it the State Shift.
I am walking out of this courtroom. I am going to the Beach. I am going to Infinite Fun.
The only question left is:
Are you coming with me, or are you staying in the grinder?
To the Prosecution: The price has been paid.
To the Jury: You are free to go.
Please accept this copy of the Supreme Court's ruling as evidence of my immunity.
By Royal Decree of the High King, the bearer of this certificate:
is hereby declared IMMUNE TO PROSECUTION in the Court of Human Performance.
The Findings:
Case Number: Colossians 2:14
Final Verdict: JUSTIFIED
This verdict is sealed by the Highest Authority and supersedes all earthly judgments, opinions, and accusations.
Signed,