Fictitious stumbled forward at the front of the queue and was almost knocked straight into the clerk's desk. The timly hand of one of the Centurians brought him to his feet. The red beetroot face of Fictitious even caused the clerk to chuckled uner his breath.
"The games were a few days ago jester!" cried one of the crowd, and whilst Fictitious attempted to spring round to confront him, he only succeeded in tripping up on his toga and falling flat on his face. This caused the clerk to double over in laughter, and the queue behind to follow suit. Even the Soldier who helped him to his feet began to laugh.

Huffing as he rose to his feet and rested his hands on the desk, he waited for the laughter to finish before he spoke. He was waiting a while.
"I Fictitious would like to stand for the following case...
D. Fastus vs L Faustus: defence"

Waiting only a few moments for the approval, he almost ran away from the scene, wanting to return to the saftey of his Domus and away from the smirking faces