Mrs. Anne Alice Grammer, of 13 Super-Stitium Avenue, East Northby, was today appearing in court, charge under the medieval English law that forbids people to use anagrams incorrectly.
Choosing to defend herself, Mrs. Grammer said: 'Look, it's 2009, if the Pope or even Marge Simpson want anagrams they shall have them, by the Great Joannas of Rhonan Kowling!', causing outrage to the jury and prosecution, one juror shouting 'Incorrect anagram!!', and another 'Burn the witch! Burn her!'
But she continued: 'I shall not bat a bit of eye nor newton, and me ridleys will be nice and ready for 'olidays, tha knaws', causing cries of 'Corriephemy!', and 'Nowt wrong wi' 'er annergrams' from one heretical supporter.
'The case against me is sub judicae', Mrs. Grammer added, looking very attractive in a tight cheap blouse, 'it's more Judge Judy than Crown Court versus myself, and if I fly off by judicially choosing a jet made out of jam and jute, will your journalists even notice I've rhymed my way out of gaol, and into the paradise of sunny Lagos?'
'Anagrams are art, not science, it's up to the artist whether to be precise or to be liberal with the letters, I rest my caste', and the court burst into violent scenes, with spectators calling for the death penalty for the accused, some even going as far as calling for her to be employed by The Daily Mail's crossword compiling team.
Summing up, Judge Lady Waiting-Smythe Bafflehurst of that River said: 'You have been found guilty by your own words and actions, Mrs. Grammer, and now I must have an evening wining you and dining you, then ravishing your beautiful body for hours on end before sending you to gaol. Do you have anything to say?'
'Well, go easy on the dykery and replace the gaol sentence with a fine, and I'll cut down my grams of aniseed to too an hour, your Holy Lochness', and the case was settled, without even so much as a sneaky fumble beneath the defendant's blouse.
Next case: Mr. Article Sarcical, charged with bringing the English languamage into disrepute and downrighteous villeinery, a la quiche de l' Lorraine O'Chasehough-Ffoughboughtleow of Looting Aeroporto-under-Slime. To be judged mildly by Sister Lady MacBeth of Fairly-Liquid, out of court and into the kitchen.
Well, it's in her hands now.