It's true, my darling FURD! I can resist your (sorta) feminine wiles no longer! Come, let me flop my flabulous mass down upon thee! Drink in my aroma 'til you fall into a coma!
Let's start the trial with summary judgment. I'll do him like Engeron and just declare him guilty on Eleventy-Billionteen counts of nothing, and allow him no substantive defense.