SCOTUS headcanon

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It is Halloween, and the eight seated Justices eagerly await the arrival of the freshly-confirmed ACB. Amy Coney Barrett, heir to the seat of RBG, two badass women comparable in feist if not in interpretation, From the skies above Washington, D.C., Antonin Scalia smiles happily; he can finally pass to the Beyond. "Pure apppppppppplesauce!" he howls gleefully, ascending towards Opus Dei's skylounge. ACB is 167cm in stocking feet, which means she's stood at least 173cm in every pair of shoes she's worn since turning twelve in Metairie, Louisiana. Seven months pregnant with Liam, her fourth, a writer for Notre Dame's <i>Observer</i> asked why she still insisted on running her daily laps in stilettos. ACB laughed, wide eyes looking up(Heaven?)ward, and answered "sprezzatura". The Fighting Irishman had to look it the term up later, and laughed...but we do note that her next two children were adopted.

It is Halloween Anno Domini 2017, and the eight seated Justices eagerly await the arrival of the freshly-confirmed ACB. Amy Coney Barrett, heir to the seat of RBG, two badass women comparable in feist if not in interpretation, From the skies above Washington, D.C., Antonin Scalia smiles happily; he can finally pass to the Beyond. "Pure apppppppppplesauce!" he howls gleefully, ascending towards Opus Dei's skylounge. ACB is 167cm in stocking feet, which means she's stood at least 173cm in every pair of shoes she's worn since turning twelve in Metairie, Louisiana. Seven months pregnant with Liam, her fourth, a writer for Notre Dame's <i>Observer</i> asked why she still insisted on running her daily laps in stilettos. ACB laughed, wide eyes looking up(Heaven?)ward, and answered "sprezzatura". The Fighting Irishman had to look it the term up later, and laughed...but we do note that her next two children were adopted.

Her initiation goes swimmingly, and she's successfully avoided That One all evening. Clarence Thomas lays aslumber in his rookery, gnawing on pork even in his somnolence. Elena and Sonia both made a point to be friendly; she'd been prepared for anything from these two. She hardly needed their support. All the same, she had been happy to have it, and resolved to say a prayer of thanks later. She'd have to keep Roberts placated until such time as she could kill him and take his seat. A curt not to Alito, whose virginity she'd savagely taken at Duke's TIP summer program when she was twelve. "Stop crying; you're less pretty when you cry" she'd sang as she strode from his dorm. Yes, she knew how to manage Sam A Alito just fine. As she'd feared, she was completely unable to remember any detail about Stephen Breyer, or even his name. Where'd he taken his prelaw? Mary Magdelene College or something? A nonentity appointed by a failed saxophonist.

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	It is Halloween, and the eight seated Justices eagerly await the arrival of the freshly-confirmed ACB. Amy Coney Barrett, heir to the seat of RBG, two badass women comparable in feist if not in interpretation, From the skies above Washington, D.C., Antonin Scalia smiles happily; he can finally pass to the Beyond. "Pure apppppppppplesauce!" he howls gleefully, ascending towards Opus Dei's skylounge. ACB is 167cm in stocking feet, which means she's stood at least 173cm in every pair of shoes she's worn since turning twelve in Metairie, Louisiana. Seven months pregnant with Liam, her fourth, a writer for Notre Dame's <i>Observer</i> asked why she still insisted on running her daily laps in stilettos. ACB laughed, wide eyes looking up(Heaven?)ward, and answered "sprezzatura". The Fighting Irishman had to look it the term up later, and laughed...but we do note that her next two children were adopted.		It is Halloween Anno Domini 2017, and the eight seated Justices eagerly await the arrival of the freshly-confirmed ACB. Amy Coney Barrett, heir to the seat of RBG, two badass women comparable in feist if not in interpretation, From the skies above Washington, D.C., Antonin Scalia smiles happily; he can finally pass to the Beyond. "Pure apppppppppplesauce!" he howls gleefully, ascending towards Opus Dei's skylounge. ACB is 167cm in stocking feet, which means she's stood at least 173cm in every pair of shoes she's worn since turning twelve in Metairie, Louisiana. Seven months pregnant with Liam, her fourth, a writer for Notre Dame's <i>Observer</i> asked why she still insisted on running her daily laps in stilettos. ACB laughed, wide eyes looking up(Heaven?)ward, and answered "sprezzatura". The Fighting Irishman had to look it the term up later, and laughed...but we do note that her next two children were adopted.

	Her initiation goes swimmingly, and she's successfully avoided That One all evening. Clarence Thomas lays aslumber in his rookery, gnawing on pork even in his somnolence. Elena and Sonia both made a point to be friendly; she'd been prepared for anything from these two. She hardly needed their support. All the same, she had been happy to have it, and resolved to say a prayer of thanks later. She'd have to keep Roberts placated until such time as she could kill him and take his seat. A curt not to Alito, whose virginity she'd savagely taken at Duke's TIP summer program when she was twelve. "Stop crying; you're less pretty when you cry" she'd sang as she strode from his dorm. Yes, she knew how to manage Sam A Alito just fine. As she'd feared, she was completely unable to remember any detail about Stephen Breyer, or even his name. Where'd he taken his prelaw? Mary Magdelene College or something? A nonentity appointed by a failed saxophonist.		Her initiation goes swimmingly, and she's successfully avoided That One all evening. Clarence Thomas lays aslumber in his rookery, gnawing on pork even in his somnolence. Elena and Sonia both made a point to be friendly; she'd been prepared for anything from these two. She hardly needed their support. All the same, she had been happy to have it, and resolved to say a prayer of thanks later. She'd have to keep Roberts placated until such time as she could kill him and take his seat. A curt not to Alito, whose virginity she'd savagely taken at Duke's TIP summer program when she was twelve. "Stop crying; you're less pretty when you cry" she'd sang as she strode from his dorm. Yes, she knew how to manage Sam A Alito just fine. As she'd feared, she was completely unable to remember any detail about Stephen Breyer, or even his name. Where'd he taken his prelaw? Mary Magdelene College or something? A nonentity appointed by a failed saxophonist.