Ladies and gentlemen, buckle up your judicial robes and adjust those gavels because we’ve got ourselves a double feature of courtroom chaos and legal lunacy that even Shakespeare would struggle to script.

In our first act, we witness the curious case of Judge Pauline Newman, a sprightly 96-year-old with a knack for turning the judiciary into a sitcom set. The Federal Circuit saga unfolds as a panel decides that, hey, maybe Judge Newman shouldn’t be juggling the gavel and grocery lists in the same hand. They’ve slapped her with a ‘no new cases for a year sentence, leaving us all to wonder – what about her old cases? Pro se litigants, the true heroes of legal dramatics, don’t get a do-over, but hey, at least they can pen a sitcom pilot about it.

But wait, there’s more! Judge Newman’s chambers sound like a reality TV show where the manager just decided that HR rules are mere suggestions. Her permanent clerk was apparently moonlighting as a 24/7 helpline, scheduling wake-up calls as if he were the world’s most legally inclined concierge. And did I mention she allegedly drove her JA to the brink of resigning, like a real-life boss from the Office of Dysfunction? The plot thickens with Judge Newman’s own law clerks playing the ‘stay or resign’ game because nothing says team spirit like ultimatums in the breakroom.

Transition to Act Two, where Justice Brook Sessions takes the stage, careening in like a drunk driver on a judicial joyride. Wasatch County and Lindon City Justice Courts’ finest – or, well, maybe not so fine – found himself mixing justice and Jägerbombs, causing more legal confusion than a law school bar review. Can you believe the man tried to balance a six-pack of beer and his judicial duties? That’s multitasking at its finest, folks!

Then enters Sergeant Nakashima, the arresting officer, who must have thought he’d stumbled into an audition for a reality show called “Judge, Jury, and Tipsy.” The ‘eye test’ and the ‘walk & turn’ test were probably the least intoxicating parts of this court performance. Not to mention the ‘professional courtesy’ of letting Justice Sessions off the hook – a decision that left us wondering if it was Idaho’s finest hour or if they were just short-staffed at the comedy club.

In a shocking twist that could rival a soap opera reveal, the Utah Supreme Court plays judge, jury, and – spoiler alert – not-so-comic relief. A public reprimand is handed out, leaving us all wondering if it’s a judicial discipline or a judicial roast. Associate Chief Justice John A. Pearce even thought a thirty-day suspension without pay might be a funnier punishment, but hey, it’s a democracy of legal jesters.

So there you have it, folks – two tales of courtroom capers that would make any late-night host raise an eyebrow. The judicial system may be serious business, but every once in a while, it serves up a comedic spectacle that leaves us all wondering: is this really how justice is served, or did we accidentally walk into a legal sitcom crossover? Only time will tell if these tales make it into the annals of legal lore or if they’ll just be forgotten in the bloopers reel of jurisprudential history.

Disclaimer: The news on Abusive Discretion is from the public record. Editorials and opinions are light-hearted opinions about very serious topics not stated as statements of fact but rather satirical and opinion based on the information that is linked above.