Hello Darkness, my old friend…
I ran into Hemant Lakhani’s lawyer in the market this morning. He was buying soy milk, a case of Mylanta, and more Pepsi’s than even I could probably stomach. He seemed pretty down in the dumps so I asked him what was wrong.
Well, for starters, I’m totally fucked.
Really, why do you say that?
Have you even SEEN my client?! Hemant’s so guilty I want to vomit with excitement every time I see him
True, but it could be cool… you’ll get press coverage, more clients…
More clients?! Which ones? The ones that WANT to lose? There’s no way I can win this. What, plead insanity?! Well OF COURSE he’s insane, that’s the whole point of being an insane terrorist!
Maybe you’re right.
Maybe I’m right about what?
Maybe you’re right, you are totally fucked… good luck with the whole “lawyer” thing.
He wandered off into the colonic aisle (this is L.A., they have entire aisles just for that sort of thing), looking sad and broken. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, I mean, how could you even pretend to want to defend a case like that?