Chapter 2 of 22 · 4'01"
She lets a witness feel in control, then circles the box until one question lands. It sounds like a polite clarification. It is not. "There is blood in the water, and I let the witness swim on." The judge and the other lawyers already cringe for him; he still thinks he is the cat.
❝ Monologue · 13 lines She Lets the Witness Swim On
❝ Monologue · 8 lines No flaunting the win
She drops the feeling, bars any flaunting, and renames only the loss.
In court, the accused's barrister narrates the questioning. She lets the witness feel safe, flicks through pages, and circles until one question breaks him. The prosecutor's eyes warn him too late. The judge makes Mr Bateman answer, then tells Ms Ensler she already has it. She submits there is no case to answer, and notes the rule: a winner does not flaunt it. Barristers call a loss coming second.
The courtesy is the weapon. She lets him lean back and feel safe, then tip-toes in and flicks through pages so the strike looks like a clarification. "There is blood in the water, and I let the witness swim on." The judge and the other lawyers already cringe and lean forward; the jury and the gallery have no idea; the man in the box still has no clue. He thinks he is the cat and she is the mouse. The prosecutor's eyes try to say "Keep your wits about you." Then shock, dawning, hatred. She stays professional, uses her sweetest voice because he will not answer, and smiles when the judge makes him speak into the microphone. Out loud she thanks the court and submits there is no case to answer. "It's not emotional for me. It's the game." Winners must not flaunt it. Any of them might lose the next day, and they do not call that losing. They call it "coming second."
A1–C2 is the CEFR scale. Cards above the level you pick fade, and playback will not auto-pause on them.
“There is blood in the water, and I let the witness swim on.”
The shark picture makes her patience feel deliberate: she sees the wound and lets him keep going.
literary
“He thinks he is the cat and I am the mouse.”
The playground pair flips the room, and she is happy to let him keep the wrong role.
literary
“What just happened? It's not emotional for me. It's the game.”
She borrows his confusion, drops the feeling, and names the whole thing a game.
Informal
“The barristers' rule is the winner can't flaunt it.”
A private high gets turned into a house rule, so the win has to stay quiet.
Formal
“Every winner might be the one who loses the next day.”
Today's win is parked inside tomorrow's loss, and gloating has nowhere to sit.
literary
“We don't call it losing. We call it 'coming second'.”
Losing stays losing, but the room agrees to give it a softer title.
Informal
There is blood in the water, and I let the witness swim on. No one can help him. And he swims right into it. He leans back, flash of confidence across his face. I let him feel his control. Feel safe. Then, tip toe, tip toe. He crosses his arms as I approach. I circle. Circle again. Stop, flick through some pages. The judge and the other lawyers, they know what's coming. They know, they cringe for him. But they love it! They lean forward. The jury, the people in the gallery, no idea. And him, in the witness box, the one I'm talking to, no clue. Still, no fucking clue!
What just happened? It's not emotional for me. It's the game. It's the game of law. I stand up again, completely professional. I submit 'there is no case to answer', call for a dismissal. The judge is swift. It is all over now. The barristers' rule is the winner can't flaunt it. Every winner might be the one who loses the next day. We don't call it losing. We call it 'coming second'.
Up next · 03What's new?The scene: Tessa Comes Home After the WinThe confidence is the trap. There is blood in the water, and she lets him swim on, lets him feel his control, then tip-toes closer. If he were less cocky he might sense the danger. Instead he thinks he is the cat and she is the mouse.
They know what is coming. The judge and the other lawyers cringe for him and still lean forward because they love it. The jury and the people in the gallery have no idea, and the man in the witness box has no clue.
There is no point. The prosecutor stands, but does not go on. Digging his witness in further would only make it worse, and the narration calls that a no-brainer.
It is the barristers' rule. The winner cannot flaunt it, because every winner might be the one who loses the next day. They do not call that losing. They call it coming second.
