The stallion who was currently testifying was doing so with something of an awkward register within his voice. And if any court stenographer had unwisely made a note regarding speech descriptors for the official transcript, with a subsequent reader simply skimming the material -- then that viewing party might have quickly decided that the stallion didn't sound awkward enough. In fact, when totally removed from context, the type of incident being described was prone to borrow from a different category of modifiers. Like, just for example, the group which included 'shaken'. 'Revolted' might have come across as mandatory, with 'terrified' lurking somewhere in the wings.

For anypony who decided to just go over the written basics without truly paying attention, several questions would have arisen. Chief among those would have been 'Why is this case being heard in Sex Court?' Because that was a place which dealt with misdemeanors and civil cases. Nothing worse. And what the stallion was describing...

"So," the young adult carefully said as an entire spectator gallery tried to subtly lean forward on their season ticket benches and almost made it , "I don't know if anypony here has ever done this, especially in the summer. And it's almost counterintuitive, I know. But when the Weather Bureau schedules a really, really hot day -- as hot as regulations will allow -- then one of the best things you can do is to take a shower."

"And that is where it officially started," the judge carefully said. "In your bathroom."

The stallion nodded, briefly glanced to his left, drew strength from a nearby source, exhaled, and then forced himself to continue.

"Because I was showering," he continued. "But for a really hot day in summer -- you need a shower that's even hotter. And I know it sounds stupid, but that's how it works. You crank up your boiler as far as it'll go -- well, almost." In tones of awkward, almost tender caution, "Test it out before you get in, everypony. Please. Carefully. I don't want to be responsible for anypony getting scalded. But... it works, it really does. When the water is exactly as hot as you can stand it, and if you stay in the shower for as long as you can... then when you get out, the rest of the world just feels -- cool." He hesitated. "And I know it's just by comparison. Because when you've driven the surface temperature for your skin and fur that high... then maybe it would take lava before you actually felt hot again. But when you step out into the bathroom when it's done... it just feels so good..."

Judge Impassi Heartstopper silently nodded, and waited for the rest of it. She always gave her full attention to any testimony: something dictated by both profession and mark. And that wasn't just listening to the words. Body position, the way ears might shift, little flicks and adjustments of the tail -- it all added up.

"He looked good, too," said a second stallion, rather matter-of-factly. "Really good."

The first male winced.

"It's why I was spying on him in the first place, of course," the pegasus added. "Look at that tawny fur! Can you really blame me? As far as I'm concerned, the first duty of anypony with taste who sees that fur? Is to get a closer look. Which is why I was hidden up in the tree thirty body lengths away, with the binoculars." Proudly, "I know... I could have hovered. But that's out in the open. What if I'd been seen? It hardly works if I get spotted, does it?"

The gallery collectively thought about that.

"Plus hovering just doesn't work when you're trying to spy that way," was delivered as Education. "It's never completely still, you know? The view just jerks around too much." Paused. "Especially my sight line on that muscular, super-tight earth pony ass."

This was dutifully recorded. And when it came to ponies reviewing the ultimate results in the files, at least for those very few who had true access to the well-secured Records Room and wouldn't know about all of the little visual cues which had arisen during the original testimony -- Impassi always advised them to read slowly and carefully.

"A dripping-wet ass," the pegasus casually kicked in. "With the fur all plastered-down..."

Context could be everything.

Another wince. The earth pony's facial fur was starting to pick up little underlights of hot red.

"Mister Scopo," Impassi cautioned. "The testimony --"

"What?" the maroon pegasus asked. "This is context!" With a grin, "And it was really nice of Scry to leave the giant window open like that, don't you think? Not even fogged-up glass to fight though. Just this clear view of pure, hardbodied, soaking-wet stallion."

"...I had to leave the window open," Scry softly told the world. "I know it makes me vulnerable..."

"Especially to pegasi," Scopo grinned. "And it's not just the open window, with that giant design which lets practically anypony get in if they happen to have a mind towards going after that tight rear. Because you were running that shower at max, weren't you? All of that heat, all of the humidity. Just billowing out into the air --"

"-- it's something I wanted to warn the gallery about," Scry quietly said. "If they want to try it some day, during the summer. Because one of the problems with using an ultra-hot shower to cool off is that the steam just builds up in the bathroom. If there isn't a window open, then you can sort of wind up choking on it. All the moisture could make you dizzy. Stagger out of the shower stall, catch a hoof on something, and then... you go down. So there's got to be air circulation. Even when it makes you vulnerable --"

"-- and puts the byproduct of your little shower into the air," declared a preemptively-satisfied Scopo. "Where any pegasus with a nasty mind could use it against you. Creatively..."

Scry weakly sighed.

"I know how it sounds," he told the court.

"I know how it looked," Scopo smirked. "It looked like a tawny stallion moving around his own bathroom with his fur all plastered down by water. Dripping. With an open window. And then he had the nerve to start grooming himself, while he was so exposed. Slick fur over tight muscles. And as far as I was concerned, it was my duty to do something about it. To get down in the grass, slink my body closer and closer. Because you don't want to approach through the air from the start, you know? Not the whole way, not where he could hear my wings going and start to wonder if that window needed to be closed. Just... sneak up. Make sure he couldn't do anything, not until it was too late. While keeping the view going for as long as possible."

The smirk was getting wider. Two gallery members were on the verge of toppling forward.

"And once I lost the view, at the base of the house wall," the pegasus announced, "that was when it was time to strike. Wings out, straight up, go through that big, big window before he could do anything at all. I got in. And once I was in..."

The feathered version of the sigh came with deep, heartfelt satisfaction, while bearing no notes of remorse whatsoever.

"I used all of that moisture in the end," he told the official record. "He was so worried about getting dizzy and falling? Then you could say that I... made him go down."

Nopony in the courtroom said anything.

"Twice," Scorpo testified, and let the smirk settle into its happy place.

"And that," Judge Heartstopper, "is your version of the event."

"Yes," Scopo grinned. "Unless you want some more details on the bathroom portions. Like what I did when I got within wingspan of that ass."

"...yes," Scry sighed. "That's pretty much all of it."

"Then," asked a wry-looking, shrill-toned senior earth pony mare, "is this finally the part when I get to talk?"

The two stallions, who had been mutually seated at the defendant's station, instantly shared in a cringe.

"Look," the plaintiff said, "I usually don't mind having them as neighbors. Nice boys, both of them. Offered to plow out my walk after the Bureau scheduled us for the usual winter dump. And as far as newlyweds go... when they know ponies are looking, they usually just keep it down to public nuzzling, and that's nowhere near as cloying as the last couple who had that house." She took a breath. "Which doesn't change the fact that the flying half of the voyeur and play-assault fetish over there is pretending to spy from my tree, sneaking across my lawn while everypony passing by on the street was wondering what was going on, I had to explain everything to the police so they wouldn't be interrupted -- which wasn't for the first time! -- and then once he was finally in there, the whole scenario never got around to the point where either of them could be bothered to close the window!"

It was a very long, extremely thorough cringe.

"The one," the senior added, "which faces my bedroom."

"But being watched is so forbidden --" Scry began.

"Can the court forbid it?" Scopo quickly inquired. "No, I'm serious. Knowing that we're actually doing something wrong might just --"

"Boys."

As cringes went, this one had clearly been intended to echo across a pair of bodies, and came with a little touch of mutual recoil at the end.

"...sorry, Esme..." Scry eventually forced out.

"...sorry?" Scopo timidly tried to offer.

"Sorry, nothing," Esme snorted. "You're nice boys. You really are. Nice, young, horny, and stupid. I can't do much of anything about the last three. But when it comes to the first one? Be even more nice and when the judge finds in my favor, keep your roleplaying off my property. Pay me back for my new blackout curtains. And when that new fence goes up between our homes? Both of you are going to paint it!"

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