[ WP ] Yesterday , a guy on the bus kept mumbling about how he just received his last strike . You paid no attention to it . Today , you heard a whisper in your ears that tell you a message : you just got your last strike .

I always tried to do the right thing. My parents raised me to obey the rules and respect authority and, in general, love my fellow human beings. And nothing has changed now that I've gotten older. I still try to live the same kind of life. And it's not to make them proud any more. They've been gone fifteen years now. 
 So when I heard a voice tell me that was strike three, I did n't have a clue what I could've done. I did n't even know about the first two. I was so distracted and disturbed that I almost missed my stop. I had never been late for work in my life. 
 My boss usually let me work through lunch and leave an hour early, so she was a bit shocked when she saw me walking with the rest of the office. `` Brix, you ok?'' 
 `` I have to take care of something that ca n't wait till 4,'' I answered as I headed for the stairs. No way I was riding in a crowded elevator with my mind reeling like this. 
 I flopped down onto a bench in Montgomery Park and sighed. The next... I'm not even sure how long it was, but it felt like an eternity. I just kept trying to figure out what I did. I was startled by that voice whispering, `` It's time.'' A shadowy figure grabbed my arm and led me away from the park. Nothing was right. What should've been my office building now looked like an old courthouse. He shoved me up the steps and into a large room. 
 A booming voice shook the walls. `` Next!'' 
 The shadowy figure pushed me to the front of the room and stated confidently, `` This is the one known as Brix, whose third strike was committed this morning.'' 
 The judge peered down at me with contempt. `` You? Seriously?'' 
 `` Your Honor, I believe there's been a mistake...'' I began. 
 `` Silence!'' she shouted. The echo of that one word bounced around in my skull seemingly forever. `` Read the charges. You tell me if any of these are a mistake.'' 
 The owner of the whisper voice pulled a thin stack of papers from the bench. `` Strike one, June eleventh, nineteen seventy-seven, four fifteen in the afternoon, defendant Brix poured half a bottle of mint extract into the meatloaf mix his mother was preparing.'' 
 The judge cleared her throat and asked, `` Do you deny this?'' 
 `` No, ma'am, but...'' 
 `` A recipe is a set of rules for cooking. You broke that rule. Strike one. Next charge.'' 
 `` Strike two, October thirty-first, two thousand nine, eight o'clock at night, defendant Brix continued to hand out Halloween candy to trick-or-treaters for an additional fifteen minutes, in violation of the town ordinance.'' 
 The judge asked, `` Do you deny this charge?'' 
 I was stunned. `` Do the parents of those kids get a strike also? They violated the ordinance just as much as I did, maybe more!'' 
 `` Do you deny this charge?'' 
 `` No, ma'am, but I request...'' 
 `` SILENCE!'' Just when I thought she could n't get any louder, the whole earth seemed to shake. `` You willfully violated the town's rules. Strike two. Next charge.'' 
 The shadowy voice stumbled for the first time. `` Apr... April nineteenth, two thousand seventeen, five thirty in the morning, ummm, defendant Brix, ummm, left the toilet seat up, causing extreme discomfort and embarrassment to his twelve year old daughter Janie.'' He looked up at the judge and, echoing my thoughts, said, `` Really?'' 
 The judge's cruel grin turned downright evil. `` Yes, really. Do you deny this charge?'' 
 I was dumbfounded. *This* was my third violation? I could n't remember if I had put it down or not. I saw this morning that I had forgotten to clean out the cat box before I went to bed, and I was n't going to leave it since it was my responsibility. That messed up my morning routine, but only by a minute, and was that enough to cause me to forget... `` I honestly ca n't confirm or deny it, Your Honor.'' 
 `` Well, I did n't certainly did n't expect this from you, but rules of etiquette are still rules. Strike three. You are hereby banished to the netherworld for a period of no less than six hundred years and no more than eight hundred years. Send him away!'' The evil smirk on her face made me, for a second, wonder if she made up rules to get rid of certain people. 
 `` But... but... what about my family?'' I pleaded. `` They deserve to know what's going on!'' 
 As the shadowy figure led me out of the courtroom, I glanced back at the judge in disbelief. Her smirk had been replaced by a stern frown as she yelled, `` Next!'' 

