Yes, yes. I know what day it is, and I'm not going to play along. I've never really liked April Fools all that much anyway (and no, its NOT because I'm usually on the receiving end) so everything in this post is as reliable as all of my previous posts.
Stupid holiday aside, I'm ready to catch you up on what's been going on. Thursday was another court day, and... it didn't go so well. My brother's lawyer is finally getting into his stride, and I have to say, I'm starting to hate that man. His name is Victor Svend, and he is ruthless. Standing at an imposing seven foot three, and bald as marble, Mr. Svend is rather intimidating before he even opens his mouth. He speaks in a low whisper as he works his way around my lawyer's arguments, spinning meaningless but grandiose statements that sound impressive but have little legal weight. Still, the jury is obviously impressed by the guy, and he knows it. Everytime he sits back down after questioning he sends a frustratingly condescending smirk my way. It's really starting to get under my skin. But Thursday was the worst. He'd just gotten through telling the jury that I'd previously served eleven months in a psychiactric ward and that I was showing signs of another mental breakdown. The remark shook me, even though it was only a coincidence (he's thrown a lot of things at me that don't even come close to anything I've done). But this time when he seated himself he forewent the smug look in favor of a knowing glance. The incident left me wondering if he knows more than he's letting on. Or maybe he realized from my expression that he'd finally nailed me on something. Either way, my lawyer says to expect it to come up again; so I'm going to a clinic to prove I'm fine. whoareyoutryingtoconvince
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