Went into court, prepared t'do my thing. De judge looked at me et groaned "Oh bloody Mary. Not you again."
Hadn't even started talkin', mes amis. I t'ink is time to send her something aged to satin-smoothness et embarrasingly expensive.
I've named de little fox-eared snake Shadow Booker, since he hides in de bourbon decanter whenever he gets a bad vibe off people in de office. Wit' my range of clients, he (pretty sure is a he) is becoming a patron of dat shelf.