What do you think of my writing?

[ZiggyStardust]

Say what you think of it.

"Order, order!" shouted the worm over the hubbub, banging his bone hammer on the wooden pedestal he stood on. "Order in the court!"
Everyone in the courthouse quieted down.
"Now," said the worm to the secretary to the side of him, "who...er....what..."
"Alan Grassington, sir" snivelled the secretary, fiddling with his black bow tie, He craned his neck towards the cage that held Alan, suspended fifty feet in the air by a great hook.
"Ah, yes," began the judge in his slow, deep, wormy voice. "Alan...what has he been charged of?"
"Er....conspiracy" snivelled the secretarial worm again, this time adjusting his round rimmed spectacles, "playing David Bowie songs on the feast day of St Wormington."
A gasp came from the jury, and soon everyone, worms, crane-necked blobs of jelly and a giant set of buttocks on legs started shouting and whooping and throwing fecal matter across the court. Playing David Bowie songs on a worms' holy day sure did anger them.
"Travesty!" one shouted.
"Kill him!" screeched another.
"Homo Sapian!" bellowed the buttocks.
"ORDER!" the judge commanded.
"Now," began the worm as the crowd quietened, 2Did you, or did you not, play a David Bowie song on the feast day of St Wormington?"
"Yes!" pleaded Alan, arms outstretched. "Of course I did! What's so bad about it?!"
"So bad!?" howled a lawyer, his wormy wrinkles pulsating, "Do you realise the disrespect this caused to St Wormington?!"
"QUIET!" Again the judge silenced them. "First we must get to the bottom of this. Now, Alan, first of all, what song did you play>"
"Suffragette City." came the reply.
The judge let out an audible cry.
"You mean....a song about a settlement full of Emily Pankhurst clones? A city that actively goes against the government?! This song is a rebel war cry! Conspiracy!"
"Conspiracy!" echoed the jury with various taunts and insults, a well aimed fecal projectile from the giant buttocks narrowly missing Alan's long, curly brown hair.
"And!" continued the judge, who was called Grimoir, "the fact that you deliberately disobey the general, standard, short and clean hair cut by having yours like a prehistoric ape!"
"It's meant to look like Eddie van Halen's" protested Alan "and anyway, the song's not about suffragettes, it's about LA, or something...."
"Eddie VAN??!! You mean this man is a vampire?!"
"NO!" shouted Alan "Just shut up, okay? I listened to a song on a stupid worm saint day, now -"
With a sharp crack a hard wooden truncheon snapped down on Alan's head. His vision swam.
"Right lad, you're coming with me." The guard hoisted Alan over his shoulder and walked across the walkway from the cage to the cells.
"Alan Grassington," began Grimoir "under section 4 of rule 27, you are sentenced to hard labour for conspiring against the government, offending St Wormington and playing the worst David Bowie song on Earth."
With a bang of the hammer, the sentence was passed.
"It's okay, lad," the guard said as he splashed some water on Alan, "it's all just figments of your imagination."

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