Is Eight Enough?

Episode 8: Down to the Core

Justice Alito is wearing a GoPro on his head. His colleagues, except for the Chief Justice, are unaware. The camera displays the Supreme Court’s secret conference room, long locked to everyone but the Justices. Even their clerks rarely see inside this room. The conference table has been pushed to the east side of the room.

The Chief Justice, standing at the front of the room, is wearing Lululemon and exuding false confidence. The only part of Justice Alito visible to the camera is his khaki shorts, and that’s only when he looks down. Justice Thomas sits in front of Justices Alito, Kennedy and Breyer but to the right of the Chief. They are all sitting on exercise mats. They are wearing the same clothes a dad would wear to exercise. Their female colleagues have not yet arrived.

“I’m succumbing to public opinion, and implementing cameras throughout the Supreme Court,” the Chief Justice says. “Donald Trump is happening, and Congress is lining up behind him. Or we get Hillary, who’s already taking Bush money. We can transform this interregnum into an opportunity. To improve our image. Opportunity not oligarchy.”

“Opportunity not oligarchy,” the Chief repeats. His confidence, still false, wanes.

“Fuck you,” Justice Kennedy says.

“Beginning today our deliberations will be broadcast to the American public,” the Chief declares.

“You mean to the world?” Justice Breyer jumps in with the first question. He is smiling broadly like he knows everything.

“No. I mean to the American public, Justice Breyer. I talked to the President about blocking access to these sessions from the rest of the world. He was fine with it. You know, he’s not as liberal as you all think.”

“So where are these cameras?” Justice Thomas asks, emphasizing the word ‘cameras’ like they are something the Chief Justice just now invented.

“I’ve installed a GoPro on Justice Alito’s head.”

“A Go What?” Justice Thomas asks. He’s already lost interest in the Chief and the conference.

“Won’t your public be surprised you’ve converted our conference room into a gym?” Justice Kennedy asks, putting extra emphasis on the words “your” and “you’ve.” He also rolls his eyes.

“I’d like to at least try to become the second least democratic branch of government. Transparency will help us in the long run. And maybe the public will see we are doing just fine with eight justices and not nine.”

“Is this like your social media thing?” Justice Thomas asks.

“Yes. Exactly like that. A small change. We’re just trying this out with a simple corporate tax case where I am confident we will all eight of us find for the corporation.”

“I still don’t understand why we have to workout,” a voice says. Is it Justice Alito? It’s hard to tell because the camera is on his head.

“If you exercise, you can live forever like Justice Ginsburg,” the Chief explains.

Justice Kagan enters and strides next to the Chief Justice. She looks around and notices her brethren all have exercise mats in front of them.

“Ab day, Chief Queef?” she asks to the Chief as she flops onto her exercise mat. Her flop makes a “pfft” sound that the other Justices assume is a fart. Justice Kennedy rolls his eyes. Justice Kagan doesn’t hear the “pfft” sound.

“You’re not sitting with me today,” the Chief says directly to Justice Kagan, now less chill about protocol. “It upsets Justice Kennedy when I show favoritism. He’s been in a place lately.”

Justice Kagan stretches her quad muscles. Even though she teases the Chief, you can kind of tell that the Chief is her best friend on the Court.

“Justice Kagan, please go sit with your colleagues,” the Chief says. “If you ever want to be able to write a majority opinion again.” He winks at her. “You’re on camera again,” and he directs his head in the direction of Justice Alito. “I saw the Politico thing.”

It sounds like Justice Thomas calls the Chief Justice a “fucking mess,” but again, it’s inaudible enough that no one can be sure. He keeps talking. Then maybe he says, “The best mind on the Court. What a waste.”

Justice Kagan takes a seat in front of Justices Kennedy, Alito and Breyer. “Hi ladies,” she says as she turns to them. The three men force smile hellos.

Justices Ginsburg and Sotomayor walk in. Jake follows them in. Justice Ginsburg is wearing a t-shirt imprinted with a meme of herself. Justice Sotomayor is talking on her phone. It is an iPhone 6, the one nearly tablet-sized.

“You cannot be serious that Hillary is less likable than Al Gore or John Kerry. You cannot be serious!” Justice Sotomayor says into her phablet.

“Of course I voted for them. That has nothing to do with likability. OK I am at conference. I have to go. Love you.”

“Who was that?” Justice Ginsburg asks like a yenta.

“My clerk,” Justice Sotomayor replies. They sit down next to Justice Kagan.

“You say I love you to your clerks?” Justice Kagan asks.

“To the ones I love, I do,” Justice Sotomayor says.

The Chief walks over to Justice Sotomayor. He puts his hand out for Justice Sotomayor’s phablet.

“I told you before. I am not strict about much, am I?” The female Justices make mock faces of horror at each other.

“But I need those phones off,” Chief Justice Roberts continues, “especially when we are doing core days.” The Chief braces his core.

“What’s so special about core days?” Justice Sotomayor asks, as she stuffs her iPhone 6 into her gym bag.

“You need Justice Sotomayor to put her phone away when Justice Alito has a camera on his head?” Justice Kagan interrupts.

“Elena, please. Not today. Not after the,” Chief Justice mouths ‘weed.’ “Justice Sotomayor, I need you concentrating on activating your core. Jake will live tweet the conference. How can you hold a plank when you’re on your phone with your — ”

“Her clerk.” Justice Ginsburg says.

“You say I love you to your clerk?” the Chief asks.

“Yes. I love my clerks. Is that OK, Chief?” She says ‘chief’ really sarcastically. “What’s the word again, Justice Kagan?” Justice Sotomayor asks Justice Kagan.

“Queef.”

“Sick. No. The other one.”

“Mansplainer.” Justice Kagan says.

“Yes. That one. Is that OK, Chief Mansplainer?” Justice Sotomayor continues. Justice Ginsburg nods as she side planks. Everyone else is still sitting on their mats.

“Like I’ve explained before: it’s not mansplaining if you ask me to explain myself.”

“Are you a man? Are you explaining something to a woman?” Justice Kagan says.

The Chief hooks his iPod into the sound system. He fiddles with it, looking for the correct playlist. He turns on Rihanna and Jay-Z’s “Run This Town.”

“Let’s get a jog in place going.” The Justices begin jogging in place, including Justice Alito. Everything is shaking like an earthquake.

The fluorescent light above them flickers until it goes out.

A voice complaining about the light going out. It’s Justice Alito. “That light has been flickering since we dismantled the Voting Rights Act. You’d think Buildings and Grounds would’ve changed it by now. I put in a work order last term. Flipping civil servants.”

He continues, “Civil servantitis. It’s what happens when government employees slack off because they never have to worry about losing their jobs.”

“You know, by that definition we suffer from civil servantitis too,” Justice Kagan says.

“We’re not in a union though,” the voice says. It’s Justice Alito.

“We don’t need to be, Justice Alito. We’re appointed for life.”

“Colleagues. No more public sector unions until next term? Today is nothing controversial. Corporate tax. And core.” The Chief shouts over Rihanna’s vocals.

“For our first set, we’re doing thirty seconds of bicycle crunches followed by thirty seconds of flutter kicks. Then we’ll break for thirty seconds when Justice Kagan will state the case. Elevator pitch style, Justice Kagan. We all read the briefs. Then thirty more seconds of bicycle crunches followed by thirty seconds of leg lifts. We’re starting in in five four three two one.”

The Eight sort of do bicycle crunches in unison. It’s hard to tell because the camera is facing the ceiling. Justice Alito must be lying on his back, maybe taking a break.

Justice Kagan states the case but no one is paying attention. The Chief is loudly counting over Justice Kagan’s summary of the issues.

Justice Breyer asks Justice Kennedy if he minds if he turns a fan on. Justice Kennedy says, “Please do.” He is cockier than usual today because he just scheduled his 60 Minutes interview.

The Justices slog through the rest of the set, exhibiting varying degrees of energy/laziness. Justice Kagan finishes stating the case and her colleagues begin to announce which way they’ll be deciding the issue.

“Hold up. For this part I want you all to stand in front of Justice Alito and announce which way you’re voting. You don’t have to explain. That’s what the decision is for. I just want to give the American people a sense of how this goes down,” the Chief says.

“Wait wait wait. So this thing on Justice Alito’s head, it’s recording right now?” Justice Kennedy asks.

“Yes. Does anyone ever listen to me? It has been since we began conference today,” the Chief says.

“Really? Wow. I thought it was a Go something.”

“Go Pro. It’s a camera,” Justice Alito maybe says. Justice Kennedy walks up to him. He looks directly into the camera.

“Fuck Merrick Garland.” Justice Kennedy says.

“Here we go.” Justice Ginsburg says.

“That’ll be enough, Justice Kennedy. We’re not re-litigating the President’s appointment powers today. Please shut off the GoPro, Justice Alito,” the Chief says. His false confidence has become imperious confidence.

“Don’t cut me off, Chief Justice Roberts. This is my court. The bloggers say so,” Justice Kennedy says.

“Told you,” Justice Ginsburg says to Justice Sotomayor.

“I’ve made a mistake. We’ve made a mistake. Sam, shut that off.” Chief Justice Roberts jogs over to the Obamacare minority row.

“I don’t know how to, Chief,” Justice Alito says.

“Shut. This. Off.” Black screen.