MAYDAY!! Mayday!! Zyrtec meltdown!! Allegra fiasco!! Judge Jimmy Jack talks smack with the Cignoids and walks away with a postnasal drip. Can I get a formulary item that will dry my drip and not make me drowsy enough to fall asleep during my judicial deportment class (taught by the Ravin' Maven of Legal Manners--J Lo).

After I survived the Martha Stew Food Network Valium-laced breakout from the Crisco-infested walls of Attica, Warden Homely Depot took pity on my sky-high lipid profile and sent me back to Texas under the guise of a NASDAQ-protected witness program.

The upshot? (Buckshot?) A second-tier judicial position hearing HMO appeals of malcontents and this odd assortment of Ann Richards camo-fitted, 4-wheel-driving, turkey-poaching gunfreak lookalikes busted for importing massive amounts of expired Viagra (You've lost that lovin' feelin') and Zyrtec (Sneeze on!!) using expired insurance cards.

Now back up just a little. Judge Jimmy Jack? Well, in Texas you don't have to be a bonafide lawyer to act like you know what you're doing in court. And since my efforts to enact National Legal Insurance fizzled like a wet bottle rocket, I decided to go for the max. I could get my online degree from the friendly telepathic legal scholars of the Hammer U. Without the encouragement of these pedigreed rags to insurance settlement riches e-professors, I never would have thought about the alternative career dollars embedded in my new JP Appeals kingdom if not for the Hammer--"I will get u a 6-figure judicial goldmine position with your Hammer-enhanced e-degree or you can whip my ass with a 400-page subpoena."

But little did I know that I would also hear from outraged legally insured formulary rejects who simply cannot accept that their plan, which their employer was paying damn good money for, would make them pay 3rd-tier--ie, full-boat prices--for their much-needed Zyrtec and Cialis scrips.

So I have invited all insured members of the Hammer Texas Tribe to join Judge JJ in a class action suit against the callous, cash-hoarding insurance titans whose favorite word is DENIED. (Have you tried one of our multi-option generics like acetaminophen?)

In West Texas, we get what we pay for, and we're not talking OTC Claritin. But little did I know that our moneyball would parachute in on George Hermann's scrawny shoulders totally outraged by her Botox/liposuction in-your-face denial. You do not tell Babs Bush to take a Not-a-Covered-Benefit hike without serious consequences.

No fooling--she and George H commandeered one of George W's old Air National Guard turboprops and Geronimoed directly onto the Fritch courthouse lawn. She was squealing the whole way down: "Read my puffy lips--Botox or bust Georgy Porgy."

Apparently Babs had an especially giddy free fall as George H told her that she "would not get one more free ride" on his (damp) shoulders until she faced the uro-music and fixed that "dysfunctional voiding thing. Deny, deny, deny Babs--that may work like a dry charm for GW and The Dickster--but you got a problem that Trumps this Botox deal like a jack-high straight beats up on a pair of old ladies.

Needless to say, I was carefully folding Georgy's chute while listening to the little family tiff laced with some very salty lingo which I will edit with my usual sense of judicial propriety.

"Dammit, GH, you're not talking to one of your Secret Service posse who kiss your boney ass even though you jacked up their taxes like some Viagra-crazed metrosexual."

"Damn you Babs--have you been reading my maxims again? If you're going to use the V-word, at least get your facts and your formulary straight--you know I only use one type of erector products in the direst of emergencies, and I only get results with that Cialis stuff."

"That's it. You're fired. I'll get my Botox approved solo."

"You can't fire me Babsy. The insurance is in my name, and, besides, Dicky C confided in me that he uses the same erector pills when his missile misfires. (Lynn calls it The Patriot.)

"Meltdown would be a better word Mr Kennebunko. Now get a grip and don't fritz out in Fritch Mr Erector Dysfunction."

Touche. Thank goodness I go it all on tape. And when I say all, I'm talking about the 30 minutes of overtime it took them to cool off and refocus on that "Botox/Lipo Thang" as George mumblingly referred to Barb's chief complaint while hiking his leg in a very derogatory canine way when Babs turned her back. (NOTE--Babs never turns her back on anybody.)

Her face got as red as Gorby's port-wine birthmark. But I will discretely play that part of the tape next time when Georgy, Babs, and the Class Action Gang run head on into the full court press of Miami Shaq--in the presence of The Real/The Righteous/The One and Only--Judge Jimmy Jack.