Vanity. Ares

the bitter end has gone on record and said that he
on at least one occasion, and he thinks there were
many more, saw and heard you entering the
defendant’s room and smelt Marijuana emanating
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
from the apartment with you in the room," his long
nose perched on a pedestal. "Is this then a lie?” “I
aint done that, nah,” said Beckett with a look at my
face as if to announce to the world; “I am with you,
my freedom fighter friend. I am with you!” I felt
that I would have been grateful if it were my
previous case years before, up in Manchester, but
again I had decided to stick to the truth (the light),
long before. In the light of his last statement, it was
apparent that Beckett had not gotten that same
memo, and because of this there was room for slip
ups, of which became evident when Cesare said:
“You have been caught in possession of class A
drugs have you not Mr West? two thousand and six,
I believe," he said. "You are currently still doing
community service for this." To which Beckett
stuttered some words I did not care to even fully
listen to, brought on by increasing feelings of all
the nausea. In lieu of Beckett’s disappointing
performance and the fallen sausage at lunch, at that
moment, within me there was a feeling that my
freedom was as whimsical as Myra’s alleged
femininity. All I wanted was someone to declare
simply to the jury: Mrya was a man, this man is free.
I started to zone out of the court's happening's.
The next time I paid attention to the trial,
Beckett was being cross examined still, but I knew
Cesare had already dealt his devastating blow, and
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