The Coonridge Digest: Now you’re talkin’

Greetings from the Ridge.
“Hello?”
“This Saddam?”
“This is Saddam Hussein, exalted ruler of Iraq.”
“Great. Man, you got any idea how hard it was to get your phone number?”
“Who is this”
“Maury Slick. I’m with Tricky, Slimey, and Slick, out of Trenton, New Jersey. You got a minute?”
“Are you an infidel dog?”
“I’m an attorney. You decide. Look Saddam, I’ve got a proposition.”
“I answer to no one!”
“Good line. Good line. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Look, I been readin’ the reports of your trial and Saddam, babe, you got yourself the wrong lawyers.”
“I need no lawyers! No one has the right to put me on trial!”
“Yea. I heard that line, too. Look, it ain’t gonna fly, Saddy.”
“Death to you!”
“That’s harsh. Could we talk a minute about your language? You see, my law firm has handled some of the biggest CEOs in America, and…”
“America? Imperialist dogs!”
“Maybe, but we know how to work the legal system. Here’s the bottom line, big guy… we can get you off. All you need is bucks, and from what I hear you’ve got moolah stashed away in every hole in Baghdad.”
“I should not be on trial!”
“Hey, you big gumba! You ARE on trial! Got that? Now do you want legal help or not?”
“What is your offer?”
“Look, here’s how it’s done over here. It’s called the Idiot’s Defense.”
“I am no idiot!”
“Sure, sure. Look, you ever heard of corporate law? It works all the time. You ever heard congressman explain scandals? You just claim that you had no knowledge of the million corpses.”
“My people worship me!”
“Whatever. And while we’re at it, I’ve got a P.R. firm to work on your image. In the first place, stop walkin’ out of the stupid courtroom!”
“I am answerable to no man!”
“Tell that to the executioner, sweetheart. You gotta stay in the courtroom if you’re gonna win! This ain’t Les Miserables, Saddam. Cut out the theatrics and behave yourself. Did you see the way O.J. sat there? Man, he was fresh from Sunday school! Calm, sweet. And innocent! Did you hear that? He tried to look innocent! They’ve got you on trial for being a raving, homicidal madman, so stop acting like a raving, homicidal madman!”
“What do you charge?”
“Now you’re talking! Okay, we work on a percentage. Politicians like you get frequent-customer rates.”
“I am a poor man. I have nothing!”
“Yea, and Oprah’s a bag lady. Sadday, we hear that just before the bombs started buggering Baghdad, you withdrew over a billion from the bank.”
“Spending money. That’s all.”
“Look baby, I saw pictures of the hole where they found you. I didn’t even see a Coke machine.”
“What is your proposition?”
“That’s the boy. Okay… first, just keep your mouth shut ‘til we get there. And something to be thinkin’ about – a book deal.”
“Book?”
“Your story, Saddy. Just the way you want to write it. Believe me, it’ll cover your legal fees without even worrying about your hidden stash. Remember Clinton? The one who ignored you? He’d paid off every legal obligation he’d Monica-ed in the White House with just one book!”
“You interest me, Yankee imperialistic dog. How do we begin?”
“Now you’re talkin’. I’ve got it a planned. You stand up in front of the courtroom and try on this glove…”
You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door, but you’ll enjoy the trip.