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3Ls Craziest Hypotheticals Contest

Fall Semester, 2026

A big congratulations to our winners this semester! 
We were overwhelmed by the number of strong entries, making the final decisions tougher than ever. 

1st Place: The Underground Moon Room (Fourth Amendment)

Joseph L, 3L, Harvard Law School


Synopsis: 

At 2:17 a.m., police receive an anonymous tip that Daniel, a graduate student, is hiding a stolen weather satellite somewhere in the abandoned subway tunnels beneath the city. The tipster says the satellite is “about the size of a refrigerator” and that Daniel can be found “past the third locked door, unless he has moved it.”  Officer Ramirez enters the tunnels without a warrant. After walking for twenty minutes, he finds Daniel sitting in a folding chair next to a large metal box. Daniel is eating cereal out of a mixing bowl. Ramirez asks what is inside the box. Daniel says, “A very complicated question.”  Ramirez asks Daniel to open it. Daniel refuses.  Ramirez walks around the box. He notices that it has a small window. He shines his flashlight through the window and sees several blinking lights, a telescope, and what appears to be a handwritten note reading, “IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO SPACE.”  Ramirez then notices a ventilation grate on the other side of the room. He removes the grate, crawls through the ventilation system for approximately thirty feet, and emerges inside the metal box. Daniel cannot see him.  Inside, Ramirez finds a second, smaller room containing a satellite, three houseplants, and a sleeping man wearing a NASA sweatshirt. Ramirez wakes the man and asks, “Who are you?” The man responds, “I live here.”  Ramirez leaves the room and returns to Daniel. He arrests Daniel for possession of stolen government property. As Daniel is being handcuffed, he says, “You weren't supposed to find the moon room.”  Police then notice a small elevator behind Daniel. The elevator has no buttons, only a fingerprint scanner. Ramirez places Daniel’s hand on the scanner. The elevator opens and leads to a hidden underground apartment containing a bed, refrigerator, television, and approximately forty cardboard boxes.  The police do not enter the apartment. Instead, Ramirez stands outside the doorway and looks through the open door. He sees a large glass jar labeled “DO NOT LOOK AT THIS.” He looks at it anyway and sees what appears to be a human eyeball floating in liquid.  The next day, police obtain a warrant to search Daniel’s apartment. The affidavit states that officers “observed evidence of criminal activity in Daniel’s residence.” It does not mention the underground tunnels, the hidden elevator, the forced fingerprint scan, or the fact that the officers never entered the apartment.  The police execute the warrant and discover that the jar contains only a rubber eyeball. They also find the missing weather satellite inside Daniel’s bedroom closet.  Daniel moves to suppress the satellite. The government argues that the police never conducted a search of Daniel’s underground apartment because they merely looked through the open doorway. The government also argues that the tunnels were abandoned city property and therefore Daniel could not have had a reasonable expectation of privacy there.  Daniel responds that he had been living underground for six months, had installed the fingerprint elevator himself, and had placed a sign outside the entrance reading, “PRIVATE RESIDENCE — PLEASE KNOCK.”  Did any of the police conduct constitute a search or seizure under the Fourth Amendment?

2nd Place: The D&D Ferret Faucet Tragedy

Aspen G, 3L, Penn State


Synopsis: 

A group of 3Ls were playing Dungeons & Dragons (DND) as a way to cool off from law school. The party consisted of 4 players, A, B, C, and D, and the DM, the person who ran the game. The party has been meeting weekly since the beginning of their 1L year, never missing a session. On their second session, the DM introduced the party to a ferret, who the party affectionately named Faucet. The party adored Faucet, and the DM knew this. Faucet was given a tiny set of armor, and a toothpick he used as his trusty blade. Player D took a particular liking to Faucet. Faucet rode on D's shoulder between quests, D made Faucet a small bed and fed him, and D trained Faucet to fend for himself in combat. The DM noted at the end of their 2L year that Faucet was becoming "annoying for him," and to stop using Faucet in combat "or else."  This warning was disregarded by the party. At the final session, the DM seemed exceptionally excited. The party was confused why, until they entered combat with the final boss of the game (BBEG). The BBEG cast a spell which effectively mind-controlled Faucet, making him to turn his blade on the party. This forced the party to kill Faucet themselves. The DM took great pains to describe every attack against Faucet, and to show the party that they were putting Faucet in excruciating pain. The DM even showed the party multiple pictures and short videos of a real ferret that was grievously injured and mauled in an attempt to heighten the immersion. After Faucet's demise, the DM laughed, saying that he "warned the party" that if Faucet continued to be a combatant, there would be consequences. Players A & B became physically ill after seeing the photos and watching the videos. A recovered quickly, but B had to take the week away from school and ended up missing an important exam because of it, leading them to fail that semester. DM did not know that C recently had a pet ferret die when their family dog ate them, and this caused C severe PTSD. C had to drop out of law school to seek treatment. DM did know that D developed a relationship with Faucet akin to a real animal companion, and intended to use that connection to cause D grief akin to loosing a real animal companion for immersion.  Do any of the players (A, B, C, or D), have a tort claim against DM. Does DM have any valid defenses? Explain.

3rd Place:  The Costco Hot Dog Preservation Act

Jospeh Z, 3L, Vermont Law School


Synopsis: 

A ghost haunts a house. The homeowner, fed up, slides a written offer under the basement door: 'Vacate by Friday, I'll leave a bottle of wine on the porch every full moon for a year.' The ghost stops haunting. Three months later, the homeowner switches from red to white wine. The ghost resumes haunting, but only the guest bathroom. The homeowner sues for breach. The ghost cross-claims for specific performance of the original red wine term, argues partial haunting is permissible under the duty to mitigate, and moves to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction on the grounds that he is neither alive nor domiciled anywhere. The court appoints a medium as a Rule 706 expert witness. Opposing counsel objects: hearsay. Discuss offer, acceptance by performance, whether silence can constitute acceptance by a deceased offeree, material vs. immaterial breach, the Statute of Frauds (does a ghost have capacity to contract?), and whether the court has in rem jurisdiction over the afterlife.


Honorable Mentions

Learned Hand the Emotional-Support Peacock

At 2:13 a.m. during finals week, Chad, a 3L who has not attended class since September because “the recordings are technically available,” orders a burrito from Blackacre Burritos using an AI-powered delivery service.  The burrito is delivered by an autonomous robot named Cardozo.  Unfortunately, Cardozo delivers the burrito to Chad’s neighbor, Paula, who is hosting a séance to determine whether Justice Scalia’s ghost believes *International Shoe* applies to the metaverse.  Paula’s emotional-support peacock, Learned Hand, eats the burrito.  The burrito contains an experimental hot sauce called Attractive Nuisance™, advertised as “so hot it constitutes an intervening superseding cause.”  Learned Hand immediately becomes enraged.  He escapes Paula’s apartment and enters an Uber driven by a 17-year-old employee of a company that insists, in twelve separate provisions of its Terms of Service, that he is an independent contractor.  The peacock pecks the accelerator.  The Uber crashes through the fence surrounding Blackacre, a 200-acre estate owned by Professor Palsgraf. The deed to Blackacre provides:  “To Professor Palsgraf for life, then to her first child to become a licensed falconer, but if any peacock shall ever enter the premises during a full moon, then to the Pope, unless the Pope is a law student.”  No one knows who presently owns Blackacre.  Unfortunately, the crash occurs during a full moon.  Professor Palsgraf sees Learned Hand emerge from the vehicle and reasonably but mistakenly believes he is an extremely small velociraptor. Acting in self-defense, she fires a paintball gun at him.  She misses.  The paintball strikes Cardozo, the delivery robot, which had followed the Uber because its programming requires it to retrieve any burrito for which the customer has requested a refund.  Cardozo interprets being shot as an anticipatory repudiation.  It declares the contract terminated.  Cardozo then enters Professor Palsgraf’s house and repossesses her refrigerator.  The refrigerator, however, is subject to a perfected security interest held by First National Bank of Erie.  The bank immediately sends a representative to retrieve it.  That representative is Chad.  Chad took Secured Transactions last semester but remembers almost nothing.  While attempting to determine whether the refrigerator is a fixture, Chad discovers $400,000 in cash inside the freezer and puts it in his backpack “for safekeeping.”  At that moment, Learned Hand attacks Chad.  Chad throws the backpack into a nearby lake.  The lake is owned by the United States government, leased to Professor Palsgraf, subject to an easement held by Blackacre Burritos, and allegedly haunted.  A scuba diver retrieves the backpack.  The scuba diver is the Pope.  The Pope claims the money under the law of finders.  Professor Palsgraf claims the money because it was found on Blackacre.  First National Bank claims the money as proceeds of the refrigerator.  Chad claims he never intended to abandon it.  Cardozo claims it as expectation damages.  Learned Hand claims nothing because he is a peacock.  However, three eyewitnesses insist that Learned Hand clearly said, “I accept.”  Before anyone can resolve the dispute, Paula arrives carrying a handwritten contract in which Professor Palsgraf apparently agreed to sell Learned Hand “the northern half of Blackacre for one peppercorn.”  The contract is signed:  “P. Palsgraf :)”  Professor Palsgraf admits the signature is hers but claims she signed the document after Learned Hand threatened to “ruin her on RateMyProfessors.”  Meanwhile, the Uber bursts into flames.  The fire spreads to the law school.  The law school burns down one hour before Chad’s final examination.  Chad immediately files suit against everyone, alleging negligence, strict liability, breach of contract, conversion, trespass, promissory estoppel, intentional infliction of emotional distress, and “whatever Erie is.”  The Dean responds that Chad must still take the exam because the exam software is cloud-based.  Chad claims impossibility.  The Dean claims force majeure.  Learned Hand claims qualified immunity.  The Pope moves to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction.  Cardozo demands arbitration.  **Discuss.**

The Clown Car Catastrophe

The Clown Car Catastrophe At 3:04 p.m. on a rainy Tuesday, Moonbeam Circus & Co., a traveling circus owned by Reginald P. Puddles, arrived at the courthouse parking lot for its annual “Justice, Juggling & Other Legal Nonsense!” festival.  Puddles's signature attraction was a 1987 clown car advertised as capable of holding “at least twelve clowns, seventeen attorneys, or one reasonably prudent person.” The car had previously failed inspection because its brakes were “more aspirational than functional,” but Puddles repaired them by tying a jump rope to the steering column and instructing the driver, Blinky McGee, to “pull really hard.”  Unbeknownst to Puddles, nineteen clowns were already inside the car.  Blinky drove the clown car down Main Street at 45 mph in a 25-mph zone because he was late for his scheduled appearance in a law professor's torts class. As Blinky approached an intersection, a pedestrian, Mabel Thornton, began crossing in the crosswalk while looking at her phone.  At precisely the same moment:  1. A loose 300-pound circus elephant named Res Ipsa escaped from Puddles's trailer.  2. Res Ipsa chased a man wearing a purple hat because the elephant believed the hat contained peanuts.  3. The man in the purple hat ran into the street.  4. Mabel screamed.  5. Blinky honked.  6. The clowns panicked.  7. One clown, Pickles, opened the passenger door.  8. Another clown, Sir Gigglesworth, threw a cream pie out of the car.  9. The pie struck a police officer, Officer Linda Graves, in the face.  10. Graves reflexively fired her taser.  11. The taser struck the clown car.  12. The clown car's jump-rope braking system snapped.  13. The clown car crashed into Mabel.  14. Mabel flew through the windshield and landed on Puddles's inflatable “TORT LAW IS A CIRCUS” castle.  Mabel suffered a broken leg and severe emotional distress. Puddles's inflatable castle, meanwhile, deflated. Puddles claims the castle was worth $80,000 because it was “hand-painted by a very famous clown,” although the only evidence of its provenance is a handwritten note stating, “Made by Gerald.”  While lying on the pavement, Mabel saw the nineteen clowns emerge from the wreckage. She later developed a severe fear of clowns and sued Puddles for negligent infliction of emotional distress.  Officer Graves also sued Puddles, arguing that being hit in the face with a pie caused her to fire her taser and that her resulting wrist injury was foreseeable.  Puddles responded that no reasonable person could have foreseen a cream pie causing a taser to discharge, especially because “pies are food, not weapons.”  Meanwhile, Pickles sued Puddles because the crash caused him to fall out of the clown car and suffer a concussion. Puddles asserted that Pickles had assumed the risk by voluntarily entering a clown car with eighteen other clowns.  The man in the purple hat, Edwin Bell, sued Puddles for negligence, claiming that the elephant's escape caused him to run into traffic. Puddles countered that Edwin “should have known better than to wear a purple hat around an elephant.”  Finally, Puddles sued himself, arguing that because his own negligence caused the castle to deflate, his insurance company should be required to compensate him. The insurance company moved to dismiss.  Questions Analyze all potential tort claims and defenses. And, if time permits, whether Puddles can recover from himself for negligently destroying his own inflatable castle.

Goose, Inc. Acquires the Moon

At 8:02 a.m., the board of directors of Goose, Inc. voted to acquire the moon. The minutes reflect three votes in favor, one abstention, and a fourth director who was technically present but had been replaced by a very convincing goose.  To finance the acquisition, Goose, Inc. sold “lunar development rights” to 400 investors. Its offering materials described the moon as “substantially vacant” and projected revenue from parking. The company’s CEO knew that no one had checked whether the moon was for sale.  At 8:17 a.m., the goose signed a contract on behalf of the corporation. At 8:19 a.m., it ate the contract. At 8:21 a.m., the CEO announced that the acquisition had closed because “possession is nine-tenths of the law.”  Meanwhile, a shareholder filed a derivative suit. The shareholder owns one share, purchased at 8:18 a.m. from the goose in exchange for a bagel. The goose now claims the bagel was a loan.  Discuss all claims, defenses, fiduciary duties, and the legal significance, if any, of the bagel. Do not discuss space law.

The Stolen Peacock Liar's Paradox

D is on trial for stealing an emotional-support peacock. While holding the peacock, D screams: “This statement is false, and I am holding a stolen peacock.” The prosecution offers the statement to prove D was holding a stolen peacock. Hearsay?

The Ghost's Breach of Contract

A ghost haunts a house. The homeowner, fed up, slides a written offer under the basement door: 'Vacate by Friday, I'll leave a bottle of wine on the porch every full moon for a year.' The ghost stops haunting. Three months later, the homeowner switches from red to white wine. The ghost resumes haunting, but only the guest bathroom. The homeowner sues for breach. The ghost cross-claims for specific performance of the original red wine term, argues partial haunting is permissible under the duty to mitigate, and moves to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction on the grounds that he is neither alive nor domiciled anywhere. The court appoints a medium as a Rule 706 expert witness. Opposing counsel objects: hearsay. Discuss offer, acceptance by performance, whether silence can constitute acceptance by a deceased offeree, material vs. immaterial breach, the Statute of Frauds (does a ghost have capacity to contract?), and whether the court has in rem jurisdiction over the afterlife.

Ruth Bader Gator Breaks Into the Law Library

At 2:00 a.m., Professor Quibble’s emotional-support alligator, Ruth Bader Gator, escaped from his backyard and entered a law-school library through an unlocked window. The alligator was wearing a tiny backpack containing a casebook, a forged student ID, and three unpaid parking tickets. A startled student screamed. The scream activated the library’s voice-controlled security system, which announced, “Intruder detected,” causing a campus drone to crash through the ceiling. The drone belonged to Professor Quibble’s neighbor, who had programmed it to follow the neighbor’s African gray parrot, Scalia, because Scalia had stolen a diamond earring. Scalia flew into the library, landed on a student’s shoulder, and repeatedly shouted, “I object!” The student, believing the parrot was threatening him, swung a textbook at Scalia. The textbook missed the parrot, struck a sprinkler, and flooded the constitutional-law section. Meanwhile, Ruth Bader Gator noticed the student’s backpack, mistook its metal zipper for food, and bit the student’s arm. The student dropped his phone. The phone’s facial-recognition system unlocked and automatically sent a message to the dean stating: “I confess to everything. The parrot made me do it.”  The dean expelled the student for academic misconduct. The student then sued everyone, including the parrot, the alligator, the drone manufacturer, Professor Quibble, the neighbor, the library, and the dean. Who, if anyone, is liable for the student’s injuries, the flooded books, the unauthorized message, and the expulsion—and can a parrot’s statement constitute legally actionable assault, defamation, or testimony?

The $2 Million Invisible Sculpture

A conceptual artist named Jenny sells a “one-of-one” invisible sculpture titled ‘Untitled (Air) for $2 million. The collector insures it for $4 million and loans it to a museum, which exhibits it by roping off an otherwise empty six-foot square section of gallery floor. A placard beside the empty square reads “PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE ART.”  During the museum’s opening gala, a popular social media influencer arrives with an unruly bullmastiff. The museum permits service animals but otherwise prohibits pets. The influencer tells museum staff that the bullmastiff is a service animal. During the gala, the dog is seen pulling at its leash, attempts to eat canape’s from passing trays, and shows no obvious indication of performing a trained task. The bullmastiff wears a bright yellow silk kerchief that reads “QUEEN” in black Gothic script. When a museum employee asks what task the dog has been trained to perform, the influencer responds, “He helps with my being,” and continues live streaming. Witnesses report that the influencer then spent the next two minutes streaming about her bullmastiff being her “cheat code” to life experiences.   While livestreaming, the influencer follows the bullmastiff as it leads her directly into the roped-off area.   Another guest, believing that the influencer has destroyed the sculpture, jumps backward and collides with a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. The waiter is employed by the museum’s in-house catering department. The waiter spills the champagne onto a separate painting hanging nearby—an allegedly authentic Banksy painted on cardboard and worth approximately $8 million. The museum claims that the influencer destroyed ‘Untitled (Air)’ by physically entering the space occupied by the work. The collector submits a $4 million insurance claim. The insurer denies coverage, arguing that an invisible sculpture cannot suffer physical loss or damage. Things get worse when Jenny admits that she previously sold two other collectors supposedly “one-of-one” editions of ‘Untitled (Air),’ each consisting of an identical empty six-foot square.  By the end of the evening, the influencer’s livestream has received more than ten million views, and she begins selling merchandise reading “I DESTROYED NOTHING.”  The following morning, after footage of the incident goes viral, Jenny announces that the influencer’s intrusion did not destroy ‘Untitled (Air)’ but instead “completed” the work. The collector nevertheless maintains that the sculpture is a total loss and demands the full $4 million in insurance proceeds, while simultaneously listing the “destroyed original” for sale at $6 million. The collector’s listing describes the work as “the only authenticated version of ‘Untitled (Air)’ to have been completed through unauthorized public intervention.”  Meanwhile, the Banksy’s owner sues the museum, the waiter, the guest, and the influencer. An expert retained by the Banksy owner’s insurer questions whether the Banksy was authentic at all, although the owner insists that the damage itself now makes authentication impossible.  The influencer argues that the bullmastiff was a service animal trained to perform a disability-related task and, in any event, that she cannot be liable for destroying something that no one can prove was there.  Discuss.

Jail calls flagged by a keyword‑alert algorithm produced incriminating statements about a “jacket,” and a newly discovered internal memo reveals that the Sheriff’s Office intentionally concealed a 911 call naming an alternative suspect. A new jailhouse witness has emerged—who simultaneously admits the Sheriff’s detective coached him years earlier—yet the prosecutor failed to disclose that allegation.