The witness, known only as Model C., enters the court room and trips over her twelve inch heels. She is helped up by a court attendant. She composes herself then proceeds to beat the crap out of the attendant before finally taking the stand.
Prosecutor: Ms C, I put it to you that on the night of September 26th, you did attend a dinner in honour of one Mr. Mandela
Model C: Mr. what?
Prosecutor: The political leader, Mr Mandela.
Model C: I have never ever met Mr Mandelson, although I like his style. Unlike yours you ugly mama. You dress like some kind of a clown.
Prosecutor: No, Ms C., I am referring to Mr. Nelson Mandela, the ex-President of South Africa
Model C: Oh! Nelson, my lovely Nelson. Isn't he just wonderful with all his liberationism and freedom-loving and all? I'm a dedicated supporter of Admiral Nelson. Every girl should have one.
Prosecutor: Quite, Ms C. But I put it to you that on the night of the 26th, after dining with Mr. Mandela, you did receive a big fuck-off diamond the size of a testicle from none other than the dictator Mr. Charles Taylor.
Model C: Listen Honey, for all I know, I might have done. But a gal like me is always receiving diamonds from dictators, whatever "dictators" means.
Prosecutor: But, I put it to you that these were blood diamonds, no less, Ms. C.
Model C: Hey, diamonds may be two a penny for a gal like me, but I'd never refer to them like that.
Prosecutor: Not, bloody diamonds, Ms. C. Blood diamonds from Liberia that were used to fund the brutal insurrection in Sierra Leone.
Model C: Sorry, you kinda lost me there. I don't speak French
Prosecutor: This is not French, Ms. C. We are talking about a very hot commodity
Model C: Hey, you ugly mama, I'm the only hot commodity around here. And if you've like finished, I've some important shoes to try on.
Prosecutor: No I have not finished. You said that you gave these diamonds to a charity worker friend and that he sold them and spent the money on cup cakes and a new Corvette Stingray for his mother.
Model C: So?
Prosecutor: Well, does this not sound a bit fishy, Ms. C? The thought that a charity worker would do such a thing?
Model C: Yeah, well you'll have to ask him, Honey. I'm already late for my Vogue shoot.
Prosecutor: We did ask him, Ms. C. And he denies ever receiving them.
Model C: Well, there you go. It's too far back for him to remember as well. Now time is money, Honey. I gotta hop. Boy you ain't half ugly, you know that?
(Model C. gets up to leave the court room. The judge is about to remonstrate but she thumps him in the face, causing his nose to explode. Then she calmly glides out of the court room.)
Prosecutor: (Calling after her) Too far back to remember, Ms. C? Too far back?
Judge: (Trying to compose himself) And to think, they used to say diamonds are forever.