Sometimes, it's just a cigar

This is our truth, tell us yours

Fifty Shades of Life on Mars – part eleven

HUNT and KELLOGG are interviewing CHRISTIAN. His white paper overalls are grimy, and there is a stain that resembles spilled tea running across his chest.  RUMPOLE appears to be asleep.

KELLOGG; You’re a man with a lot of possessions Christian.

CHRISTIAN; Is that a sin?

KELLOGG; Don’t look for hidden meanings Christian; there aren’t any.

CHRISTIAN: Isn’t that what you’re doing? Trying to find out why this is all happening?

HUNT: We leave the why to the bleeding hearts, the head shrinkers and the hand wringers.We just sort out what we want the jury to believe happened, and nail you to the cross with it.

CHRISTIAN: Do you even care about the truth?

RUMPOLE: Auctoritas non veritas facit legem

CHRISTIAN: Is he speaking in tongues?

RUMPOLE: No my old darling, Latin. Authority makes law, not truth, and down here, the police have authority, and make the law. Hobbes would have made an awful judge but he saw the world as it is.

CHRISTIAN: Down here ?

RUMPOLE: The cells. Even when they’re above ground they’re designed to make you feel like you’re already buried in the underworld of prisons, where the sun doesn’t shine and days are marked by the smells of cabbage and porridge, not the rising and the falling of the sun.

KELLOGG: Mr Rumpole may tend to stagger and lurch to the poetic end of the spectrum Christian, but he’s right. Until this is tidied up we’re the only law you need to worry about. Now tell me, why did you treat Ana like a possession?

CHRISTIAN: I don’t know what you mean.

HUNT: Yes you fucking do.It’s all this look at me bollocks – the car, the glider, the woman I can slap around like a piece of meat…

CHRISTIAN: You’re jealous aren’t you? That’s it, you’re jealous because of your tiny life and your tiny cock and your shabby, second-rate life.

HUNT: But I’m not a rapist Christian, and you are.

CHRISTIAN: Just because you say it doesn’t make it so.

KELLOGG: As Mr Rumpole would say, lex parsimoniae.

HUNT: I know that one.

CHRISTIAN: I don’t.

HUNT: It’s Latin you stupid scrote. And it means if you’re at the races and you hear the sound of hooves, don’t start trying to find reasons to believe it’s a zebra.

RUMPOLE: I believe you Americans sometimes call it the duck test. If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family Anatidae on our hands.

CHRISTIAN: I still don’t get it.

KELLOGG: She says you’re a rapist. We’ve seen the pictures, and the medical reports, and the stories from her friends, and they make you look like a stalker and a rapist. What else do we need to know?

HUNT: Quack fucking quack Christian.

 

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This entry was posted on February 5, 2015 by in Fifty Shades of Life on Mars.

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