Monday, 9 August 2010

My vuvuzela... my vuvuzela... I want you to play with my vuvuzela.



Charles Taylor Trial


(Defence calls a witness known only as Ms. Woody-Allen (W-A). She attended the same dinner - in honour of Nelson Mandela - as the dictator Charles Taylor and the supermodel known as Model C. According to her testimony, Model C told Ms Woody-Allen that Charles Taylor's men entered her room in the middle of the night and gave her a massive piece of "uncut".)

Defence:  Good morning, Ms. W-A

W-A:  Er, hi. And, er, can I say that I've never been in a court of law packed with, er,  so many distinguished gentiles?

Defence:  That is very kind, I am sure. Now can I put it to you, Ms. Woody-Allen, that on the night of September the 26th, you were extremely jealous of Model C and the attention she was getting from the dictator, Mr. Charles Taylor?

W-A:  Er, no, I happen to suffer pathological discomfort whilst I'm, er, in the company of dictators.

Defence:  I see. And have you talked to anyone about this?

W-A:  Yes, I've, er, talked to my therapist. And my therapist also comes from a long line of people who suffer pathological discomfort whilst in the company of dictators.

Defence:  Very good. And did your therapist cure you of this discomfort as you so put it? And did she show you that Model C., as I suggest, is simply much better looking and more famous than you? And did she thus conclude that you were angry because Mr. Charles Taylor - who is considered a saint by some people - didn't offer you the lovely, dirty diamond - or diamonds?

W-A:  Well I'm not sure how to answer that. My therapist suggested that the dictator Mr. Taylor probably wanted something in return for these diamonds. From Ms. C., that is.

Defence:  I see, and can I ask you, what do you think Mr. Taylor wanted in return for these diamonds?

W-A:  Er, the way I kind of understand it, Mr. Taylor thought he might have the opportunity to play with Ms. C.'s vuvuzela.

Defence:  Her vuvuzela?

W-A:  Er, yes. Er, Mr. Taylor was apparently aware that Ms. C., whilst she was in Africa, was in possession of a vuvuzela. And he wanted to play with it.

Defence:  And that was your belief?

W-A:  Er, my belief was whatever my therapist said I should believe.

Defence:   I see. And do you always believe everything your therapist tells you?

W-A:  Only in the case of dictators and supermodels.

Defence:  And has your therapist been in touch with Ms C.'s therapist?

W-A:  Er, no. I understand that Ms. C. has killed or mutilated most of her therapists.

Defence:  So, can I put it to you that your therapist doesn't have a leg to stand on with these suggestions?

W-A:  (Smirking) Can I, er, suggest that Charles Taylor's victims generally don't have a leg to stand on? Or arms... or eyeballs... or ears...

Defence:  Objection!

Judge:  Overruled!

W-A:  (Still smirking) Can I, er, add, that's the kind of thing Charles Taylor might say?

Defence:  Objection!

Judge:  Objection sustained! Court dismissed!

(Court descends into chaos and Ms. W-A is manhandled out of court by security guards.)

W-A:  (Trying to suppress a grin) Can you big guys, like, keep your hands to yourself? This is the kind of thing I'd expect from Charles Taylor's men.

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