You hang around the front door of the courthouse, giving out your business cards to anyone who looks seedy. Problem is, there are thirty lawyers sharing your space, doing the same thing. You consider washing windshields as an added bonus to your clients.

You set out to become a prosecutor and take down drug kingpins, but you now realize that you'll be spending several years distinguishing yourself in traffic court before moving up. On the plus side, you'll get to know where police set up speed traps.

As a prosecutor, you find yourself spending hours refreshing yourself on cases that invariably fall through by plea agreement at the last minute. "Practice makes perfect," you tell yourself, and know your training will pay off when a real case comes, since practice is the real pay of prosecution.

After a defendant offered an alibi to the jury, you pull out a dashcam video of the crime as seen from the pursuing officers, pausing the video as the fleeing driver makes a U-turn, momentarily looking straight at the camera with a funny face. As you explain each frame of the video, you watch the defense attorney's face fall into his hands, his ego shattered. No one said you couldn't have a little fun doing justice.

You establish what comes to be known as the Bernie Madoff defense, where you successfully convince a jury that a conviction of anyone who looks like George Washington is creeping socialism. Joseph Biedermann, O.J. Simpson, and Dan White are all waiting to shake your hand as you bathe in a torrent of camera flashes.