with Grant Mortar

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A Symptom of a Greater Malaise
The Myth of Sir Carlos and Merlin the Magician
From outside the crenulated walls of Camelot, today. 

Carlos Tevez, 13, was today spared a lengthy jail-spell at 
Shawshank Correctional Facility after drinking a magic potion 
provided by his megabucks lawyer, Gwyn Lewis, writes our 
correspondent, non-league football's own Grant Mortar. Tevez, 
who divides his time between putting opponents to the sword in his role as a 'striker' for loadsalolly Manchester City and squiring for Argentinian
golfers on the PGA tour, had been accused of driving while banned from driving, and, if found guilty, potentially faced the Iron Maiden, however, the
judge, Judge Arthur King, returned his decision today in record time, leaving Tevez free to concentrate on his erstwhile career as a poisoned troll. 

Round Table 

But while outside the court the good folk of Camelot rejoiced verily at Tevez walking free, there were rumblings of discontent amongst some of the
other knights of the Round Table, including Lancelot Diggerthwaite MP, who claimed Tevez would never have 'got off' with his offence had he not
been represented by Lewis, who is also known as 'Merlin the Magician' in Premier League circles. 

Said Sir Lancelot: "It seems wholly unfair that the poisoned troll should simply walk away from this with no more than a rap to the knuckles and a nudge-nudge wink-wink telling-off at the hands of Judge Arthur King. We as Camelotonians have a duty and a responsibility to set an example for the rest of the populace, and in Sir Tevez being set free, we're perhaps starting an unhealthy precedent. Tevez's defence was simply laughable. He claimed he'd ignored police letters relating to his driving ban as he did not understand the word 'constabulary', and hence did not know he was banned from driving. I contend that the word Sir Tevez truly did not understand was 'Camelot'. We’re not just about the National Lottery… Tevez simply didn't understand how things work here and the example we must set, as Knightly footballers of the realm." 

Soup Dragon 

Tevez, 37, was arrested three weeks ago, when he was stopped bazzing his souped-up Dragon Wagon about the leafy
streets of suburban Macclesfield when already serving a driving ban. At that time, things seemed bleak for the
poisoned troll. The common football chant 'Going down, going down, going down' took on a whole new meaning for the
cheese-grater-faced star. 

However, that was before his Knight in Shining Armour, Gwyn Lewis, stepped in. Lewis, 198 and sickeningly immortal, works for Manchester-based law firm Burton Copeland and he's been dubbed Merlin because "he has made many worrying cases disappear" with a simple click of his fingers and a whisper of the word "Shazzaaaaaam". Merlin has previously represented other Manchester City players including the saintly Joey Barton, the jinky-dwarf Shaun Wright-Phillips and the shiny-pated Danny Mills, all of whom provide testimonials on the Burton Copeland 'getting away with it' website: 

Unlike the Saturday evening TV series however, this Merlin is no apprentice wizard. No, he has over 20 years experience in the 
defending of motorists and indeed has developed a "passion" for this, somewhat questionable, practice. His specialities include 
getting rich celebs off-of "minor speeding, traffic light and mobile phone infringements, to the most serious cases of drink driving 
and death by dangerous driving". 

Spells, Wells, and Bellyaches 

But in the Tevez case, it appeared Merlin had met his match. Public opinion seemed to be that a human sacrifice was required. 
Some, like Sir Lancelot, argued that "just because a rich footballer is driving, why should he get away with crimes common or 
garden humanity are punished for? Surely it shouldn't be one rule for one, and another for another? And besides, I live in Macc, and I prefer it nice and sleepy instead of having to wake up to the deafening roar of Carlos Tevez, 67, drag-racing along our main-strip, from the Arighi Bianchi furniture store to the main Macc to London train station." 

Merlin dug deep however. Gave 110%. And he came up with the magic potion. By drinking the potion, the kettle-shy Tevez, 4,
developed a second skin, one comprised entirely of fifty pound notes, and, as such, he entered court in Camelot looking like "a
million dollars" instead of a boy from some Buenos Aires slum. Hence his chances of being freed by Judge Arthur King improved
tenfold. Indeed, when Merlin stood to address the court at the beginning of proceedings, Judge Arthur spake thusly: "Prithee be still.
I can see this fellow begad money. He is here under false pretences. Begone." Then, offering up a wink to those in the jury benches,
he added: "If thee can riddle me this: how can a man who is banned from driving drive? That is as much an oxymoron as hot ice...
then I shalt set this man to jail forthwith. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred pounds. For if a man is not allowed to drive,
how can he drive? Was it Tevez's ghost driving? Was it the metaphysical representation of his inherent desires? Riddle me this and I
shalt scatter justice upon this case." 

Those on the jury benches seemed nonplussed. Guinevere scratched her chin. Sir Galahad pulled a face. Sir Gawain looked at his
huge sundial of a watch. To everyone in court, it seemed it was only a matter of time before proceedings 
were brought to a halt. 

Code of Chivalry 

Outside the court, however, things seemed far from certain. A throng of expectant Manchester City fans gathered, waving Arthurian placards 
featuring bon mots such as "To by no means be cruel but to give mercy unto him who asks for mercy, especially Carlitos", and "Etihad save 
us!" I spoke to one Darren Bumtit, from Stockport, who was wearing a tee-shirt with the slogan, 'I like the pope 'cos the pope smokes dope.' 
He spake thusly: "They can't deprive us of Tevez. Tevez can only deprive us of himself, by refusing to enter the field of play as a substitute, or 
by going on his jollies to Argentina to play golf for a bit, mid-season. Sending our Carlos down would be a bigger scandal than that there 
horsemeatburger jobby." 

And so, with bated breath, the crowd awaited Judge Arthur King's decision. It was written in lore 
that they would be availed of the decision by the presentation of black or white smoke from the Camelot chimney. Traditionally,
the white of these Newcastle United colours signified a just decision had been made, as per the codes of heraldry. And when
the white smoke was revealed, like some smoke ring blown by God himself, the crowd literally went nuts. Doing the Poznan,
singing anti-Manchester United ditties relating to an air crash which even killed one of their own, and generally losing sight of
what is fit and proper. But the moral of the story was there: Tevez was free. The magic potion of money had won. On to the
next game. 

Sir Tevez walked free from court at 2pm this afternoon, and in a prepared statement, Gwyn 'Merlin' Lewis said: "A grave injustice was done in even bringing this piffling matter to court. The damage done to Sir Tevez's reputation has been blimming awful, because apart from this, he's had 
a clean sheet as far as public relation disasters are concerned. I mean, it's as bad as even thinking about bringing in 
minimum alcohol pricing." 

Unfortunately, the remainder of Merlin's speech was drowned out by the tiger growl of Tevez's Dragon Wagon being 
gunned. Revving. A screech as he pulled away from the kerb and then the Bracheosaurean roar of brakes as he 
manfully tried to avoid(?) running over a murder of court reporters who'd just that moment exited Camelot. Before he 
disappeared from view, Tevez zummed down his leccy windows and draped an arm out of it. There was an almighty 
cheer from the Manchester City followers. Tevez thusly upended said arm with the middle finger of his right hand 
extended, pointing heavenwards. And then he was gone, like a puff of smoke, like a hero. Like a man who'd righted 

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