Last time I did this, I barely had any gasoline to get there and report the details. This time I had a full tank, that is, I chose NOT to take a leak and dashed out to the courtroom at 1:07 -- 23 minutes before the trial started. I'm back at my desk an hour later and I'm still holding it. If there is any doubt that I'm dedicated to my craft, let this be my proof. Gamers, I shall not piss until you get the news. I think Shakespeare said that. The case was held in the same courtroom and with familiar faces, plus another gentlemen from Wal-Mart. I made a noisy entrance, as I had shoved the stationary part of the french door forward and sent a thump into the room before I could step into it. Was I locked out? Am I actually going to miss this? Am I going to be the kind of guy who's late to his own wedding? I nudged the second door and sheepishly stuck my head through. For a second all eyes were on me and then quickly back to their business. They all recognized me. Jack was exactly where I knew he would be sitting. Jack: "Hey." It was a weaker nod than last Wednesday's peppy "Hiya." Across the room, Bridget from the Herald was interviewing his bearded expert witness. The Take-Two and Wal-Mart people were discussing things amongst themselves. I knew they wouldn't speak to me due to company policy, so I sat by Jack. He seemed a little tense so I hesitated to jump right into questions. It confirmed my suspicion -- the email he sent to me last night was a very brief, so I wondered if he was concerned. For what felt like an hour, I just kind of sat there looking at the back of his head. I look around, and the courtroom is much more empty this time. I stare down at my empty notepad. Fuck it. Niero: "Mr. Thompson, would you mind terribly if I asked you a few questions?" Jack: "Sure thing, shoot." He turns around and leans back slowly in his chair. He is wearing a blue suit this time, just formal as the rest of them. Niero: "Did you get a chance to see the reactions to our previous story? I had sent you a few links, people are saying that they're seeing a side of Jack that they've never seen before on our site, Digg, GamePolitics, etc." Jack: "Nobody likes to be hated. I haven't gone through all of them, but that's very nice to hear." Niero: So the big question is, did you get to watch Bully gameplay yesterday? What do you think? Jack: Unfortunately I'm under a gag order so there's not much I can say. However I think you'll find this interesting. They sent a copy to the BBC." He hands me two pieces of paper, fresh from a laser printer. They are stapled together and there's a mess of red blocks, hyperlinks, and heavy copy all over it. It's a printout from the BBC web site (here's the story). News to him, news to me. I'm still extremely anxious to get those questions answered, so I began asking them another way but his face started to change and I stopped short. He was willing to talk, but he couldn't. He then said something to that effect right after and we both looked at the floor. Damn it! I guess I'll have to wait until Tuesday, but if he's still in court today and if he was sincere about calling it all off if it wasn't a big deal, then I already know how he feels about it. Something he saw keeps him going, whatever that is. Niero: "One of our editors, Robert Summa, has a question for you. Why video games? That is, why is that your thing?" Jack:" "I first got involved in 1997 with the CopyCat ..." I'm sure you're all aware of his background and cases, I'll skip past this part, look it up on Wikipedia, which also shows that his name is not Jack, but John Bruce. He did say he volunteered some research about Time Warner to that family, which is how that started. Since then, people recognize him as the go-to guy for this kind of thing. Makes sense, he's very specialized. He also told me that he's involved in another case with the firm Blank Rome in which a hardcore Grand Theft Auto gamer reportedly gunned down his family a couple of months ago. We are interrupted by a tall brunette woman who asks me my name and places a torn sheet of notebook paper on my desk with some blue scribbles on it. My courtroom experience tells me she is the court secretary, and if you read my previous story you know what I'm talking about. This is a different woman, but they must shop at the same places. Before I can get a word in, Jack informs her that I'm media, and she insists on getting my name in for the records anyway. I spell my mom's creative identifier for me and she scurries back; skirt about to burst in half. The gag order leaves us with little to talk about and Jack's expert witness returns from Bridget's interview, so they begin to talk. I scan the room, and there's nobody else I can grill. I'm off the hook, let's go chill with Bridget, who got more than a fair share of shit yesterday because I had muddled her story on Destructoid's prior Bully coverage (it didn't help that Kotaku made a note of the misunderstanding in the comments, but didn't edit their story, dammit.). We clear things up and she readies her recording device, which is something I need to purchase next time I get myself into this sort of thing. I can see JT from my seat, but not the Take-Two people. This is good, because I wrote some scathing observations in my last story and don't know what kind of sense of humor they have about that kind of stuff. After all, they're lawyers and all sleep in coffins, right? I'm not in the mood to dance, so the wall between us provides all the chickenshit protection I need. Bridget and I talk a little about the last trial while the court secretary stares at my sneakers as if I'm wearing severed heads on my feet. She's probably wondering how much I paid and what kind of person I am, because my cheap jeans and the "little old man" shirt I'm wearing don't exactly sync with Prada footwear. She'll never know the truth: I bought them for ten dollars at SoBe Thrift on Alton and 13th, where fashionable gay men drop off last year's collection. They're more comfortable than my Nike's and my fiance hates them, but the look on this woman's face was so worth going to bat for them. She turns away and we all face the man with the badge. Security: "All rise for the honorable Judge Friedman!" Jack is not smiling and looks concerned. I'm assuming there were some words exchanged yesterday that the world will never know about, and I have a feeling on how this is going turn out, but his last powerful performance gave me reason to think it's still anyone's game (no pun intended). Judge: "First of all, we had some motions brought forward here on Wednesday (yadda yadda). Number one was this court's jurisdiction over Take-Two. Number two was this court's jurisdiction under the first amendment." I think back on him grilling Mrs. Ward, and I think he does too. His eyebrows move up, and seconds later, he smiles. There is a pause and my eyes begin to scan the room. Nobody is moving. He resumes. Judge: "I have decided that there will be no rulings here today, nor to I see the necessity to prevent the sale of this game." I try to look at the defense but instead I see a fucking wall. FUCK. I can't stand up. I imagine them happy. Jack's face is always a shade of red, but it is visibly more flushed than before. He presents his hands forward on the table as if to stand up, but he does not. The judge speaks. Judge: "I have spent a couple of hours viewing the game. It was produced to me by an operator using a cheat, which allowed him to skip through the game and show me 'key points' that would require an average gamer hundreds of hours to reach. There is a LOT of violence, but not more than the general public has access to on television. I'm not going to let the cat out of the bag about the game content. Mr. Thompson was present, and they gave a copy to the BBC ... " and began to speak about this game's media coverage a little bit. I lost interest and looked at Jack. He was bubbling with a word at the tip of his tounge, waiting to interject. Bridget's tape was rolling. I looked at my pitiful notes. I have to get one of those things. Judge: "As I said, there is a lot less violence in this game than what we see on television, and although it is pervasive, but not to the extent that it would cause a public threat that would require me to prevent these folks from selling it." I look at Jack. He's not sitting down anymore, but isn't standing up either. Judge: "Would I want MY kids to play this game?" His palm is open like a starfish on his chest. "Absolutely not. But this game is not a nuisance." Jack lunges forward and machineguns a request for a TRO (temporary restraining order). They speak quickly and throw legal procedures back and forth like a game of Simon Says. Jack grills the judge for taking a stand and making an opinion on the game, very calmly stating "But judge, this is not a trial" over and over, as apparently what the judge is requesting does not follow some kind of basic procedure. Infuriated, the judge screams and demands Jack sits down and then shouts "we'll have your trial on wednesday". I'm not sure if the judge said "damn trial" but that's what I want to write, because that is how it felt. Just when I thought Friedman was going to find Jack in contempt, he backs off and they begin speaking calmly about an appeal as soon as possible, which the judge refused to grant. Jack: "Judge, you haven't even played the game!" Bridget and I look at each other. What the hell does he mean by that, didn't they do that yesterday and just confirmed it a few minutes ago? It gets more confusing. Judge: "What I have seen in the tape is enough." Tape? Like a VHS tape or does he mean like "Dude, let me borrow a Nintendo tape" ? Judge: "Take it up with the third district court, I have plans this weekend and have court on Monday." Jack: "Am I allowed to stand up?" Holy shit. I mean, he said it politely but that must have stung Friedman back. He then resumed his previous arguement, which the judge denied again and pointed at reconveining in this courtroom on Wednesday. Jack: "The game would have shipped by then. It would be too late." Judge: "I'm very sorry, but that is my decision, and you take take it up with the third." Jack's expert witness begins to say something, but Jack puts his hand on his shoulder. "It's not worth it." The judge motions him to speak, but Jack nods his head and the man's eyelids relax as if someone's taken his breath. "This court is adjourned, all rise." Before I can gather my wits, Jack has stormed out on his own in a blaze. Bridget jumps on the defense attorneys, and they clarify that the judge did mean that the game was played for the judge but cannot comment more. Before I get to the door, I hear "Hey!" It was a man's voice. The suntanned lawyer locks retinas with me. I can see it in his face, he knows what I've written. A smile from Mrs. Ward earlier suggested that she might have too, but I wasn't sure. Now I know. Speedbump head crusher: "I read your story." Oh shit, here it comes. Speedbump head crusher: "You're a great writer, I enjoyed it. I have a few more nicknames at the office now though." (sigh) Niero: "I really appreciate that, thank you." We scrambled down and Jack was nowhere to be found. I walked Bridget out and she reasoned that he might need some time to cool off anyway. I phoned the news to Brad to get the news up as soon as possible, the words that gamers everywhere wanted to hear so badly. Before I could even publish this update our server crashed time and time again as dozens of web sites - GameSpot, Kotaku, Joystiq, and hundreds of others pounded us for the news. We also received a few personal thank you's, which I plan to respond to as soon as I click the publish button. And with that, this is over for now. Additionally, I just want to say thanks everyone for your interest in our coverage. It was because of your overwhelming response that I finally got a chance to pee while the server rebooted. Notable sites for post-trial activities: GamePolitics has a document dump of the prosecutor's attempts to escalate the trial to the case Upset with today's turnout, Jack Thompson sent a scathing letter to Judge Friedman on Kotaku