“This is insanely bogus. Craziness. I’m NOT giving them my cell phone; they can pry it out of my cold dead hands.” 
Wilson knew this was coming, Brittany had not listened, nor heeded any of his suggestions and now the court had handed down its verdict. He thought the verdict seemed a little harsh for a third time offender, but Brittany was still young at forty-seven and the court could have commuted her sentence just a little.

“I have all my contacts in here, my bff lists, my play lists for every ocassion, my personally customized ring tones and I will not deprive my Twitter followers on account of some ridiculous judge and his bogus verdict.” 

“Brit, honey, you have to or they'll extend the duration of your sentence.”

”Oh, they think they will. I’ll just bluetooth my files to another phone before I hand it over to them.” 

“Brit, then they’ll order a body search,” Wilson cautioned. 

“My ass they will.” 

“That’s right and a few other orafices,” reminded Wilson. 

Brittany threw her fully loaded Louis Vuitton purse, all ten pounds of it, at his head. “You’re brutal Wilson, brutal, do you hear me?”

Wilson had purchased Brittany an expensive Iphone loaded with all the bells and whistles for their engagement. She had become bored with her old cell and wanted more “connectivity” or she threatened to twist off. Everything would have been fine if she hadn’t started proclaiming the cell phone as her lifeline. With it she had become a world class Twitter text-er. Wilson didn’t understand the finer points of texting and mobil social networking, but he loved his fiancee and humored her idiosyncrasies.

In an attempt to distract her obsessive focus on her cell phone, for her birthday he bought her a Porsche Boxster. He assumed driving a high performance vehicle would take her mind off all the texting; besides who could possibly operate a sports car and text at the same time? Brittney proved him wrong. She was pulled over doing ninety on an expressway off-ramp while managing one-handed thumb-texting and down shifting at the same time. The State Trooper wasn’t amused and when he interrupted her Twitter update, she went ballistic on him. That pretty much sealed her conviction. At the court hearing she didn’t come off as remorseful. In fact, Martha Stewart and Paris Hilton acted more remorseful. Wilson knew when Brittany cited Lindsey Lohan’s DUI defense from a Titter tweet, that she was driving the proverbial last nail into her defense strategy coffin.

“Oh you’ve GOT to be KIDDING!” Wilson heard Brittney shout in surprise. 

Taking a quick look out the window Wilson saw a tow truck hooking up the Porsche in their driveway. 

“No Freakin’ WAY!” Brittany screamed.

Wilson heard the front door being flung open and he raced behind his fiancee trying to stop her before she earned a cavity search. A County Sheriff, State Trooper and a few patrol men were stationed around the front lawn, resting their hands cautiously on their tasers. As he ran up to where Brittany was expressing herself to the Sheriff, Wilson heard her excitedly exclaim, “And just what am I supposed to drive to the mall, the Spa, my hair stylist and the club then, hmm?” She punctuated her query with a stamp of her Prada shod foot. 

The burly Sheriff didn’t smile, he just looked up and down the block and without emotion muttered, “We’ve got that covered miss.”

Brittany tried to pull her Boxster off the towhook by its hood-bra to no avail. While she was distracted doing that, a patrol man deftly confiscated her custom Iphone. Brittany would have been tasered then, if Wilson hadn’t selflessly stepped in between. His love for her knew no bounds of sacrifice.

Holding Brittany down was like wrestling a Care Bear on crack cocaine. Suddenly there was a toy-like car horn beep from up the block. The Sheriff informed Brittany that her transportation alternative had arrived. With that, a sickly lime-green Yugo pulled in the drive as the Porsche Boxster was towed out.

“No, No, No, No, NOOO.” Brittany cried. “I am NOT driving that, that, whatever it is ANYWHERE.” 

“It’s a 1970 something Yugo, my sweet.” Wilson tried to console her while kicking the car's tires.

"This is inhuman treatment, do you hear me mister lawman.” Brittany directed an accusing glare at the sheriff.

The law enforcement officers powered down their tasers and quickly left the scene. Wilson was left to handle his fiancee and her impending cell phone withdrawal melt-down alone.

“There, there, darling, it’s not so bad,” he cooed. 

“I won’t drive that THING anywhere, what am I to do?” Brittany sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Look sweetheart, its, a, a classic and it’s kinda cute, you can text your twitter twits, er, followers about it, I'm sure they'll think its extreme and edgy.” Wilson unconvincingly tried consoling her. Then he suddenly realized his mistake. 

Brittany burst into uncontrollable sobbing over the inhumane separation from her cell phone.

“Well, look at it this way then Hon’,”Wilson tried a logical explanation, “your sentence is up in a month. Everything will be alright, you can hang in there.” For that comment, Brittany gave Wilson a vicious kick in his shins with her pointy toed Pradas.