Bob Bell Hewes

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First off, let me say, esteemed members of the jury - er, I mean, panel - that I am not crazy. Despite what Lieutenant McElwe says, rather, despite was those two doctors of his say, I am not insane. It is well known in the annals of professional psychology that when someone says they are not crazy, they are not. Because crazy people do not even entertain the notion. The notion is foreign to them, so to speak. So, just because I can understand the idea of sanity/insanity, is more than conclusive, in my own humble opinion, that I am not crazy.

Second, let me say that I agree with the prosecution’s case. Yes! Does that shock you? I bet it does. Here is what I agree with:

Yes indeed, my name is Robert Bell Hewes. Guilty as charged! I am a midshipman first class, qualified for nuclear submarine operations. For the past fourteen months I have been serving on the USS Phoebus, a nuclear-powered Los Angeles-class fast-attack sub. As stated by the honorable Lieutenant McElwe, I am in full agreement of the basic facts of this case. Do you see how his twisted mind works? Listen, I used to sell cars before I enlisted, the two years after high school. And do you know what? This is what they told me, at Mackay’s Used Cars - that’s on Route 21 past Shrimpton, by the way - this is what they say, they say “Get the customer to say ‘yes.’ ” Did you gentlemen, excuse me, gentlemen and lady, I guess is how you would formulate that salutation - but did you note how clever that is? Get the customer to say “Yes!” Why do they do that? To get you to buy the car! That is what Mr. Lieutenant is trying to get you to do. To buy the car! I can’t believe you people are so dense! Excuse me, I mean, I apologize for that outburst. But judging by the looks I see you kind folks giving me, I believe a more in depth clarification is indeed necessary.

When you get the customer to say “Yes” and keep getting him saying “Yes” it makes it a helluva lot easier for him, or her, I did a fair amount of selling to the fairer sex, yes, indeed, it makes it a helluva lot easier for the customer to say “Yes" when you ask him, “So, Jack, will you buy this fine car? ” “Yes!” “Now sign here on the dotted line!” “Yes!”

Don’t you understand? That’s exactly what Mr. Michael McElwe there is trying to do to you. To get you to say “Yes! ” And how does he do it? Simple. First, he says to you, this is Robert Bell Hewes. “Yes!” He’s a midshipman first class, been that grade since he got in seven years ago. “Yes!” He served on the USS Phoebus for fourteen months. “Yes!” He’s guilty of killing and manslaughter and treason and blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda - “YES!”

It’s a fairly common trick, I’ll grant him that. In lawyer circles, we tend to call it the median res. That’s Latin, and it means, “get the customer to say yes.” So you see, I’m on to Mr. Michael, there. I’m on to you.

What? My defense? Yes, I am getting to that. My dad always said that a good defense is a good offense. Or was it the best offense is a good ... well, the point being is I am not here to prove my innocence. In this wonderful country of ours, we have this proposition, I think Ben Franklin coined it best, when he said, you are innocent until proven guilty. Hey, every natural-born American citizen is. There ain’t no original sin in the Constitution. That was Jefferson’s main contribution. I am a history buff.

So what does this prove? Nothing. Except that, first of all, their case is all full of holes. And that is why I am on the offensive, like the San Francisco 49ers. I attack their case, because their case really isn’t a case. It’s all circumstantial evidence, as we say. So you see, its like a chain reaction. No, like a chain of events. First, I am naturally innocent. Second, they have to prove my guilt. Third, their using a bogus tactic to get you to say “Yes”, cause eventually, well, I guess they just did, but they will finish their case by saying, “So I ask the honorable panel for a verdict of guilty on Robert Bell Hewes.” And fourth, I stand here, without benefit of counsel - I know, I know, I got rid of her - but I stand here and with my West Coast Offense I slash holes through their alledged case.

Now, my defense. Okay. I may concede some points that I was in the vicinity of the deceased. Yes, also, there is a cliché that the camera doesn’t lie. But it is a well-established fact that in this day and age video can be doctored. Kennedy proved it. Well, the men who killed him, that is. But I digress. The video that alledgedly shows me “bludgeoning” - colorful word, Lieutenant - uh, striking William Poke with a monkey wrench all those times, well, that’s just not me in the picture. As we discussed, and I only bring this up again to keep it fresh in your honorablenesses’ minds, is that it was dark and the shot they froze and blew up of my face, well, that’s simply doctored. My request for the forensic cinematographer was denied, I may also remind you. So if you won’t allow me to prove it, then you will be obligated to take it on faith from me.

Second, the blood got on my hands and my uniform and my sneakers and bedsheets I told you - it was planted. I was in the john at the time. That is a well-documented fact. I have personally testified to that fact myself, here in this honorable tribunal. It is very easy in a Los Angeles sub to sneak around and do such things. Well, easier than you would imagine. I know it’s small and cramped and ... well, I have nothing more to say on the subject. Other than, I feel this is the weakest link in Lieutenant Michael’s alledged case.

Next, it was not my personal code that was entered into the Trident Launch Sequencer. I flatly deny such comments. Now, Billy - I mean, Mr. Poke, it is true that he tried to enter my code into the computer. On more than one occasion, I might add. He was a troublemaker, that Poke. But we did have good times, I feel obligated to say. But getting back to my original train of thought, the answer is “No!” I did not put my personal code in to the firer. Hell, I still would have needed at minimum XO Feeley’s code. And I flatly deny that sheet of paper alledgedly found in my locker was Feeley’s code. Nor was I the one that shot the excellent Mr. Feeley. As a matter of fact, and I bet your investigators, Mr. Michael McElwe, failed to divulge this to you, but Mr. Feeley was a very good friend of mine. He even said that I should look him up once our tour was up next month.

Listen, I see you’re angry cause I’ve gone past my allotted time, but in summation, let me just say this: I did not kill Mr. William Poke nor did I cripple Mr. Pete Feeley nor did I enter the codes and launch a Trident missile. I did no such thing on the plain and simple fact that when I spoke to God the night before the incident in question, he said to me, quite plain and simple-like, he said, “Bob, they’se gonna start World War III, and it’s up to you to stop ’em.” “Who, Lord?” I ask, and he says to me, “why those fatcats in Washington. You know what you gonna hafta do, now Bobby, doncha?” And I says, “Yessir I do burn em all down! Burn all dem muthafux down!”

... Uh, who are you?

... Did I just say what I think I did?

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