Defense Attorney: What is your age?
Little Old Woman: I am 86 years old.
D.A.: Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened to you?
L.O.W.: There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a warm spring evening, when a young man comes creeping up on the porch and sat down beside me.
D.A.: Did you know him?
L.O.W.: No, but he sure was friendly.
D.A.: What happened after he sat down?
L.O.W.: He started to rub my thigh.
D.A.: Did you stop him?
L.O.W.: No, I didn't stop him.
D.A.: Why not?
L.O.W.: It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Abner passed away some 30 years ago.
D.A.: What happened next?
L.O.W.: He began to rub my breasts.
D.A.: Did you stop him then?
L.O.W.: No, I did not stop him.
D.A.: Why not?
L.O.W.: Why, Your Honor, his rubbing made me feel all alive and excited. I haven't felt that good in years!
D.A.: What happened next?
L.O.W.: Well, I was feeling so spicy that I just threw my arms around him with total abandon and said to him, "Take me, young man. Take me!"
D.A.: Did he take you?
L.O.W.: Hell, no. He just yelled, "April Fool!" And that's when I shot the son of a bitch!