The Consultation

 THE CONSULTATION

Pinocchio needed an attorney for an unusual problem; however, this was not what he was expecting.  The office was hard to find – it was in a field behind Old MacDonald’s farm.  In front was a sign: “Don’t Get Beat Use Pete!” The office was small, sun-bleached, and needed paint.  There was no receptionist, so Pinocchio opened the door and went inside.

The attorney himself was not exactly confidence-inspiring.  He had big ears, a funny nose, and oddly shaped eyes.  Still, Pinocchio was in no position to criticize, with his large blue bow tie, alpine hat, and funny nose.

“Peter Rabbit, animal-at-law,” Peter said, extending his paw.  “Welcome to my hutch.  I’m fully licensed by the Court of Grimm.  How can I help you?”

“I heard you were the highest quality attorney in Fairy Tale Land.  And I need the best.  I want to sue Walt Disney.”

There was a long pause while Peter nibbled at a carrot and brushed some hay off his blue jacket.

“That may be difficult,” Peter finally said.  “He’s dead.  If you want to sue someone who’s dead, you need an attorney from the Poe Supernatural Court.  I can recommend Casper over in the graveyard.  He’s very friendly.  Be sure and tell him I sent you.”

“They made Disney a hologram a couple of years ago.  I’m a puppet made out of wood.  If I can be sued in the Grimm Court, why can’t I sue a hologram?”
                                                                               
Peter scratched himself with one of his hind legs.

“I’ve handled a lot of weird cases,” said Peter.  “I just got a settlement for Cinderella for injuries in her goat yoga class.  I represented Snow White in a sexual harassment suit against those Seven Dwarfs.  They kept whistling at her while they worked.”

He paused to scratch some more and think about the problem.

“Grimm Court jurisdiction extends to fairy tale characters,” explained Peter.  “That covers a lot of ground, but Walt Disney, hologram or not, was never in a fairy tale.  You were.  Even if you were a real boy, you still would have started in a fairy tale.

“You aren’t covered by human courts, so perhaps I can argue for diversity jurisdiction.  It’s never been tried before, but it just might work.”

Peter put down his carrot, stopped scratching, and his ears perked up.

“What’s your problem with Walt?” said Peter.

“He changed me!” said Pinocchio.  “He sanitized me, made me cute, and turned me into some idiot song and dance puppet.”

“Not unusual for Disney . . .” started Peter.

“I was a scoundrel!  Even Geppetto hated me and called me a wretched boy.  The first thing I did after he carved me was to steal his wig!  At one point, Fox and Cat hanged me from a tree.  I’m tragic, not loveable – I’m supposed to be a warning, not some twit.   Sure, I get saved by the Blue Fairy and could become a real boy, but I was mean and cruel.  Just ask the Talking Cricket – if you could.  I squashed him.  Instead, I was Disneyfied, just like all the others.  This has to stop!”

“I know what you mean,” sighed Peter.  “I’ve been made into cartoons and even computer-animated.  That was the worst.”

“Then you’ll help me?”

“I don’t know.  Disney has more lawyers than Old MacDonald has carrots.  But they can’t practice in the Court of Grimm.  They have to hire a fairy tale attorney and no one would work for Disney.  However, one of their attorneys could be written into a fairy tale, but that lasts forever.”

“But then they’d be on our turf,” said Pinocchio.  “And we could re-write them the same way Disney changed us.  I don’t think they’d like that.”

“No,” said Peter, his ears standing straight up.  “I’d hop circles around them.”

“But that’s not the only problem,” he added.  “There’s also copyright law.  Disney owns the copyright to the Disneyfied you.  Copyright law protects the creator, not the character.  The real you isn’t protected.  Disney could do whatever he wanted, and he created a likeable you.  No one would buy Pinocchio merchandise when you are, to be honest, you.”

“But they’ve stolen my soul and turned me into something I’m not, just to make money!” yelled Pinocchio as he pounded his fist into the wall of the hutch, cracking the old wood.

This outburst startled Peter.  “Now I can see the puppet who squashed the cricket,” he thought.

“Calm down,” said Peter.  “Here, have a carrot.”

Peter hated having to tell characters who wanted his help that there’s nothing he could do.  Some attorneys would take the case just for the fees, knowing that there was no chance for success.  Peter was not that kind of lawyer.

“I don’t know if this helps,” said Peter, “but you’re not the only character who’s wanted to sue Disney.  Peter Pan, Cinderella, even Prince Charming have come to my hutch, and I’ve had to tell them what I’m telling you.  Disney owns Fairy Tale Land and there’s nothing we can do about it.  Most of them just give up and work for Disney.  It’s not a bad life.

“It’s also too expensive to sue Disney.  I don’t work for carrots and no one except maybe Rumpelstiltskin has that kind of money.”

Pinocchio visibly slumped.  If he had tears, he would have cried.

“No one likes to hear they have no case,” Peter thought.

“Look,” he said, “you’ve got a choice none of the others had.”

“What’s that?” Pinocchio asked despondently.

“Go find the Blue Fairy.  Transition into a real boy, and get out of Fairy Tale Land.  It just isn’t what it used to be.”

“But how can I leave it behind?” Pinocchio said.  “Never see the Enchanted Forest again?  No more talking animals?  It’s just too bleak.  I can’t give up without a fight.  I’ll get your fees and I’ll be back.”

Peter saw Pinocchio’s nose start to grow.

“He’ll never be back,” thought Peter.

Pinocchio left the hutch, but not in search of the Blue Fairy.

“I’ll find Geppetto and see if I can patch things up with him,” he thought.  “He carved me -- he’ll know what to do.”

Geppetto lived far away, on the other side of the Enchanted Forest.   It was going to be a long trip, but at least he wouldn’t have to talk to any lawyers.

Peter Rabbit hopped out to Old MacDonald’s vegetable patch to steal some more carrots, singing Ee i ee i o.  He knew there’d be more clients.  There always were.

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