It was all going wrong for aforementioned crap-terrorist Osman Hussain (AKA Hamdi Isaac or Mickey Mouse or whatever he's calling himself today), his dreams of reaching paradise by way of a huge, terrifying explosion that would bring Shepherd's Bush and the western world to a horrified standstill turned out to be little more than a poor embarrasing indoor fireworks display in a rucksack.
Then, he went on the run, and in spite of being lucky enough to evade recognition by the public and by the border patrols, he didn't think to get a new sim card for his phone, so the police followed him at the click of a mouse all the way down to Italy.
He got caught shacked up with his brother in Rome, probably in his pants like the others, and they wanted nothing more to send him back to his angry intended victims where they would slatheringly decide whether he was guilty or not. And all told, his behaviour had been nothing if not suspicious.
It's no surprise that, demoralised and clearly not in paradise, he didn't even bother to appoint a lawyer to fight his extradition, and the Italian legal system was forced to appoint one for him.
But that's where his luck turned around because he was appointed none other than the ultra-sexy legal mind of one Antonietta Sonnessa! She must be just about the hottest Italian lawyer I've ever seen. Who said Osman hadn't reached paradise?
The Sunday Telegraph were quick to take advantage of this by making sure her attention-grabbing picture was plastered across half of their front page along with the significantly less attention-grabbing headline "Suspect's lawyer in court.". I bet they shifted a few more copies that day, and without compromising their broadsheet-values.
It's almost as if the crap terrorist has stumbled into an Italian CSI-style legal drama featuring Antonietta, the sexy but naive rookie who aced her way through school and university but, as the rest of the team know, she still has the real lessons to learn, the sort of lessons you can only learn out there on the street.
This might be her toughest assignment yet, a psychotic, fanatical attempted mass murderer to defend, the sort of scum she got into the legal profession to put away, but as her middle-class-white-male-mid-forties-but-still-slim-and-not-unattractive boss will tell her:
"Sometimes in the legal game you've got to make tough choices, and do things that on the outside, you wouldn't even contemplate doing. You could be representing Mussolini himself, but you've got to do your best, because even Mussolini deserves a fair trial. Ciao."
And, even though it goes against all of her moral principles, and sickens her to her stomach, she goes on to mount the best legal defence she can (in the circumstances).
She turns to that judge with all the demure and professionalism of any case that she worked on before, takes a deep breath, looks him in the eye and says
"Don't extradite him, and I'll flash you."
I don't think any of us could fail to be moved be her staunched commitment to the Italian legal process.