Here you go:I attended jury service about 18 months ago, the case for which featured a prosecution lawyer who was perfectly Dickensian in his appearance: a fat belly from years of good dining, a large, hooked nose, tiny round spectacles, and, of course, his barrister’s wig. He spoke with a rich – and very posh – baritone, tugged at his robes sniffily, and had an air of cultivated and cool understatement. He was a relic of the forgotten Empire.
The case we sat on concerned gang violence – late-teenage youths involved in some sort of turf war. Only one had given a statement to the police, and, due to some sort of bizarre legal reasons (which were never fully explained) the prosecution lawyer himself had to read this statement out during his cross-examination of the police constable that took it. This was to be in response to the questions that the constable had asked of the accused at the time - it was, in essence, play-acting.
The police constable opened up: “So - you understand why you’ve bin nicked, then? Causin’ affray, public disorder, threats of violence an’ using intimidatin’ behaviour, right?”
Imagine my delight as the prosecution responded – he hadn’t just a plum in his mouth; he had an entire orchard – “Right … what it is Blood, is I ain’t done nothing, right, because me an’ my girl is jus’ chillin’ in the park, and we ain’t done nothing, right, because what happened is that I ain’t chucked my blood for no-one or nothing, right, and … ”
As one the entire jury had to stifle uproarious laughter – we could tell the other lawyers were also having the same trouble. I fancy that I saw, in their exchanged glances, that the lawyers had had fun with this in the back rooms, practicing it: “Right – lets do it again – you be the policeman … ” “That’s not fair; I’m ALWAYS the policeman!”.
We had an hour and a half of this.
As a footnote, the prosecution regularly corrected himself, too: “… because, right, I was down the back of the garages, right, and I hadn’t seen anyone … y’r honour, I must apologise to the jury … I was down the back of the garages, and I ain’t seen anyone … ”
It was one of the most singularly marvellous performances I’d seen that year.
(The case we sat on concerned gang violence – late-teenage youths involved in some sort of turf war. Only one had given a statement to the police, and, due to some sort of bizarre legal reasons (which were never fully explained) the prosecution lawyer himself had to read this statement out during his cross-examination of the police constable that took it. This was to be in response to the questions that the constable had asked of the accused at the time - it was, in essence, play-acting.
The police constable opened up: “So - you understand why you’ve bin nicked, then? Causin’ affray, public disorder, threats of violence an’ using intimidatin’ behaviour, right?”
Imagine my delight as the prosecution responded – he hadn’t just a plum in his mouth; he had an entire orchard – “Right … what it is Blood, is I ain’t done nothing, right, because me an’ my girl is jus’ chillin’ in the park, and we ain’t done nothing, right, because what happened is that I ain’t chucked my blood for no-one or nothing, right, and … ”
As one the entire jury had to stifle uproarious laughter – we could tell the other lawyers were also having the same trouble. I fancy that I saw, in their exchanged glances, that the lawyers had had fun with this in the back rooms, practicing it: “Right – lets do it again – you be the policeman … ” “That’s not fair; I’m ALWAYS the policeman!”.
We had an hour and a half of this.
As a footnote, the prosecution regularly corrected himself, too: “… because, right, I was down the back of the garages, right, and I hadn’t seen anyone … y’r honour, I must apologise to the jury … I was down the back of the garages, and I ain’t seen anyone … ”
It was one of the most singularly marvellous performances I’d seen that year.
Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 13:57,
archived)
^ Words.... /talk --->
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Wobbly Bloke Hello, did I miss anything on,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:00,
archived)
Racist Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:16,
archived)
WHERE'S MY FECKING PICHURE?but ace story, i bet it was a hoot. i've managed to escape jury duty so far.
Thor_sonofodin has done things, terrible things on,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:02,
archived)
It is brilliant fun.Tell you what, though - Mrs Vagabond bricked it when the pink summons envelope entitled "HM Courts Of Justice" came through - she thought I was in some kind of really deep shit that she was completely unware of hahahahaha
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:16,
archived)
Nice.Do you have any 12 Angry Men style tales of verdict reversal?
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Smallbrainfield,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:10,
archived)
We had one woman who voted both ways twice before the final agreed take. Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:16,
archived)
Hahahahahaha Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob,
Wed 16 Mar 2011, 14:52,
archived)