He’ll arrive in the same ill-fitting suit, standing on tiptoes — trying to look tall while acting impossibly small.
The performance will be familiar. Practised. Rehearsed over decades.

Inside the courtroom:
The trembling voice.
The crocodile tears.
The carefully curated victim card.

Outside the courtroom:
The sudden hysteria.
The laughter that comes too quickly.
The forced smile stretching over those gruesome teeth, desperately trying to hide what leaks out anyway.

Cold, soulless eyes scanning everyone in sight — not with fear, but with calculation.
Overconfidence radiating from someone who believes repetition equals truth, and that charm can outpace evidence.

This is what long-term deception looks like when it thinks it’s winning.
This is what happens when someone confuses performance with credibility.

The problem with decades of lies is that they eventually collide with records, witnesses, patterns — and time.
And time doesn’t applaud.
It exposes.

— Linda Carol