We've all seen the inane labels on product packages, like those advising us to dry clean a cotton shirt, not to use a hair-dryer while asleep or that cheese is 100% vegetarian. You may think these labels were affixed by disgruntled inspector no 34, but they are not there to make companies look foolish. They are often hedges against lawsuits, because some now-bald woman probably tried blow-drying her hair in her sleep. Loony lawsuits are big business, especially in America. In 2005, $261 billion changed hands in tort cases there - and everyone, it seems, wants to get in on the action.

A legal wedgie

The customer's pants must really have been something. After all, he leveled a $67 million lawsuit against a dry cleaner for losing them. Maybe Roy L. Pearson just wanted to flex his legal muscle. You see he's not an average pant wearer - he's also an administrative law judge. It all started three years ago when Judge Pearson took a pair of pants to Custom Cleaners to have them altered for the sum of $10.50. Two days later the pants turned up missing. Pearson told the Chungs the family who owns the cleaners, to cough up a thousand bucks for a new suit. A week later the Chungs said the pants had showed up and refused to pay. But Pearson said the pants weren't his and decided to sue. The Chungs countered with a $12,000 settlement offer - that would have been 12 brand new sets of pinstripe suits for the judge. But out of principle, Pearson went ahead with his suit in 2007. Signs hanging in the store read "Satisfaction Guaranteed" and "same day service" neither of which he had been offered and that he insisted constituted fraud.

How did he arrive at his princely sum? By following local consumer protection laws, which impose fines $1500 per violation, per day. Pearson figured he'd been cheated in 12 different ways, 12 of them over the course of 1200 days, the length of time he estimated the offending signs were put up. He then multiplied that amount by three, the number of Chungs who own the shop. His laundry list of greed included $1,500,000 for emotional damages and $542,500 to cover the cost of his lawyer, who happens to be a guy named Judge Pearson. For good measure he tacked on $45,000 the cost of renting a car for the next ten years to drive to and from some other dry cleaner.

Disposition of case : Even Pearson thought $67 million was a lot to ask for since he dropped some of his demands before going to trial and ended up asking only for $54 million. The paltry sum was still too much for the presiding judge who dismissed the case.

Forgot the remote

It's a fact: The squeamish should not watch a reality show called Fear Factor. With contestants eating worms and sitting in rat-filled tanks, it's best for the faint of heart to stick with the cartoon network channel. Austin Aitken is one such couch potato. According to the Cleveland paralegal a 2005 episode was so disgusting it literally made him ill. His blood pressure rose, and he grew dizzy causing him to bang his head against a doorway as he fled the room. A $2.5 million payout from the NBC television network Aitken figured would him on the road to recovery.

Disposition of case: A judge assumed it was for occasions such as these that the remote was invented and threw the case out of the court.

Much Married

A republican politician in Florida says his bid to head that US state's party was sabotaged by a letter falsely accusing him of having been married six times. Jim Stelling claims that the letter sent to the state party leaders, implied that he had loose moral standards and therefore was not suitable for the position. Sp he sued the letter's author , Nancy Goettman, for defamation. Why? Because he hadn't been married six times - only five. " I believe in family values", Stelling insisted to the judge.

Disposition of case: In 2005 a judge ruled in Stelling's favor. But probably figuring that once you have been married five times, it might as well be six, he nixed awarding Stelling any money.

Air Apparent

A lot of men wouldn't mind being mistaken for US basketball star Michael Jordan. After all, Jordan is famous and handsome, not to mention the greatest player of all time. Allen Heckard, however, begs to differ. After being told he resembled "His Airness" Jordan one too many times, in 2006 he sued Jordan and the chairman of Nike, Phil Knight, for $832 million. Like Mike Jordan, Heckard is African American and bald, and wears a hoop in one ear and Air Jordan's [Nike sport's shoes named after Jordan] on his feet. He also likes to play basketball. For your nitpickers, Heckard is six inches shorter than Jordan, eight years older, and much lighter in the wallet. But that's neither here nor there. For fifteen years, he had been indentified as Michael Jordan, and someone had to pay for defamation, permanent injury and emotional pain and suffering. Now it's obvious what Jordan's role was in making this man's life miserable, but what was Nike chairman Phil Knight's crime? Well, he promoted Jordan and made him - and, ipso facto, Heckard - one of the most recognizable people in the world. Still what's so awful about looking like Mike? According to Fox Sports.com Heckard claims that it's saddled him with a level of professional expectations that he is unable to live up to. Heckard, by the way, is an airport shuttle - bus driver.

Disposition of case: Maybe resembling Michael Jordan isn't so bad after all, since Heckard dropped the lawsuit, without giving a reason.