I thought I’d missed it this week, but it’s popped up in my reader today. Hurrah!
When his opponent played his trump card, the liar was compromised by proof of his own guilt.
Try as he might to appeal, the public had turned ugly and were now out for his blood.
Now all he could do was sing for his supper on a street corner and hope no-one would refer to his despicable actions which amounted to no less than tyranny.
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