With Zippy Zamazda on the stand, Part 2
DRAMATIS PERSONAE GRATAE:
Same as in Part 1
Plus:
Sergeant-at-Arms (who presumably should’ve been in the first part)
A hapless woman (who presumably should’ve been in the first part too)
Prosecutor: Okay, Zamazda. And so, what is it exactly you do – for a living, that is?
ZZ: I’m a, uh, I’m a, I’m a…
Prosecutor: Well, it says in the cutline under your photo that you’re not only a journalist, but you’re an Aaa-meee-riii-caaan journalist…
Courtroom Crowd: Ooooo… aaaaahhh…
ZZ: Um, yes, that’s right, and…
Prosecutor: But it also says – and this seems to stand out far more prominently, somehow –
Defense Counsel: Objection, Your Dishonor! The Prosecution is basing his conclusions on conjecture, which makes the evidence he’s trying to palm off on this court… hearsay! Hey, I know my evidence law. Nyug, nyug…
Judge: Oh, will you just shut up!
Prosecutor: As I was saying, the cutline also says that you were the former Chief Editor of the Kyiv Poster!
Courtroom Crowd: Huuuhh?! – gasp…
Prosecutor: Yes, that’s right – the Chief Editor of the Kyiv Poster. Hmmm… And how, Zamazda, have you come by that title; how is your use of it justified?
ZZ: I’m shocked at this line of questioning! How dare you question the integrity of my –
Judge: Witness! It is YOU who are on the stand, not the Prosecution. Remember your place here, or you’ll be slammed headfirst into a jail cell by my Sergeant-at-Arms over there for any number of days I arbitrarily choose to impose on your dumpy ass, my own notwithstanding, where you will be denied food and water and forced, at torture point, to roll around in your own urine and excrement in that fake Burberry sport jacket you got at a fire sale at Woolworths. Now answer the question!
ZZ: Gulp… but I WAS the Chief Editor of the Kyiv Poster!!! (tears fill his eyes behind the dork, black-rimmed, bifocal glasses)
Prosecutor: Uh-huh… And how exactly, Zamazda, did you get that job?
ZZ: I, uh, I… was hired by Stephan.
Prosecutor: Meaning what, Zamazda? Who was Stephan at the Kyiv Poster that he should hire you?
ZZ: He was… he was… Chief Editor.
Prosecutor: I see. But then how, after working under Stephan – how long was it – two, three months? – did YOU become Chief Editor?
ZZ: Well, I… I…
Prosecutor: Oh, go ahead, Zamazda, say it. You’re under oath. And if you don’t say it, I will.
Defense Counsel: Objection, Your Dishonor! The Prosecution is badgering the witness, he’s abusing his position as a state’s employee, hiding behind the generous penumbra cast over this court by Your Dishonor’s cape (or cloak, or gown or whatever it is you’re wearing, nyug, naaar), leading the witness, harassing, psychologically tormenting and threatening him, falsely characterizing… ah, okay, forget it… nyoo-oo-oog nyaaa…
ZZ: I, I, I…
Prosecutor: Oh, that’s all right, Zamazda. We understand it’s hard for you, so allow me to help: One fine night, after Stephan let you go on production day, having no further need of you before the Christmas holidays, bidding you a good New Year’s break before returning to help him launch a new volume of the Kyiv Poster the following year, while he, as usual, intrepidly and valiantly remained to put the paper to bed… YOU!!! went upstairs, behind Stephan’s back, to the publisher to discuss implementation of the plan… TO FIRE STEPHAN!!!… (gasps and voiced shock resonate throughout the otherwise hushed courtroom)… and then to take his place… as Chief Editor… (a woman faints)
Judge: Sergeant-at-Arms, help that woman!
Sergeant-at-Arms: Oh, I’ll help her all right, uh-huh-huh, uh-huuuhh…!!! (picks her up and drags her out to undisclosed locale for further treatment and action)
ZZ: Yes, yes, but no, it wasn’t exactly like that, it was… but The Ferret, the Fe –
Prosecutor: Oh, but it WAS like that, wasn’t it? And never mind The Ferret (a sound of furious scratching and burrowing is heard in the back of the chamber)
Judge: Sergeant-at-Arms, when you’re done with that woman, plug up that other hole. There’ll be no escapes from my courtroom!
Prosecutor: Thank you, Your Dishonor. And so, Zamazda, how long, exactly – after you got, or at the very least, conspired to get, Stephan fired from his more than year-long struggle to keep the Kyiv Poster a winning commercial success, with more advertising than it had, in all the years of its existence until then, ever gotten from the public and local business community, who absolutely loved how he was leading the paper with their most pressing interests and concerns in mind – did you KEEP your newly – ha, ha, ha – WON position as Chief Editor.
ZZ: Um, it was no more than three months.
Prosecutor: Three months, you say? As long as all that? And why was that, Zippy?
ZZ: Ah, ad sales went down, plummeting actually, for some reason business leaders were pissed at me, I couldn’t see eye to eye with the publisher, newsroom staff were quitting on me left and right, I couldn’t work with The Ferret, and… and… I couldn’t take it! – it was too much work and pressure! I had no idea – no idea, I tell you, no idea…!!! I admitted as much to Stephan, later standing over his grave, trying to apologize to his spirit for what I did.
Prosecutor: In other words, today, you submit occasional freelance commentary to a small variety of publications with really the only thing providing you with any authority to back you as a legitimate, er, shall we say, occasional commentary submitter in this part of the world being the mere three months you had the ill-gotten privilege to spend as the Chief Editor of the Kyiv Poster – the title of which you never fail to mention – including to date, MORE THAN FIVE YEARS LATER!!! – and that appears under every single one of your mealy-mouthed, sanctimonious, and self-righteous bylines and compositions, in which you demand that others be, for lack of better words, fair, decent, and honest.
ZZ: Yes… yes, that’s right.
Prosecutor: What kind of a sick, pathetic loser are you?
Filed by Jack Step, March 19, 2013