I once rolled up a complaint and stuffed it in a steel-toed boot and had it delivered to a shoe salesman a client was suing for sexual harassment.

I once had a complaint lasered onto the surface of a generic aspirin tablet, the tablet capped in a bottle, and the bottle delivered to a pharmaceutical company a client was suing for failing to warn her of certain debilitating side effects. I had the bottle's label printed to read, "Take This Rectally. No Refills."

I once had a complaint tattooed on the back of a child laborer who worked for an athletic-apparel company a client was suing for child-labor violations. Unfortunately, that fact was used against us in the suit. My client thought I should've seen it coming, and she retained another attorney. Creativity just isn't rewarded in today's world.

I once published a complaint in a newspaper owned by the company we were suing for defamation. Our published complaint spawned three defamation lawsuits of its own. We settled all of them. The settlement papers were, in fact, signed in the blood dripping out of the pen my client jabbed in my forehead. The next year, that client and I got married, and it's been happily ever after ever since. More or less. You can read about our relationship in her mother's diary, the entries pounded out in Morse code with a gavel once owned by Supreme Court Justice Ruth Ginsburg, the percussive strikes echoing through the cold blue sky of justice covering, from sea to shining sea, the America that I love.