You Honor, I hereby testify that she ain’t no villain, Lord’s my witness. So what if she covered her angelic bosom with four equally angelic puppies, all fluffy and cuddly and with eyes as contrite as those of a nun at Vespers…? Ain’t no harm in that! There’re times when a woman gotta do what a woman gotta do. Yeah, her first name is Cruella and her last name is Deville, but that ain't nothin’ but a damn stupid coincidence and the work of the Devil! Hell, yeah, repeat myself I shall: she ain’t no witch! No spawn of the Evil One! On the contrary, she’s the heroine, the good girl men should root for, the lady with a dream, the one sent to deliver us all, and get you behind me, Satan! I beg your pardon, your Honor…? What’s her dream…? Bloody hell, your Honor, her dream is, of course, happiness, what else could it be? Ain’t we all haunted by that damn nightmare…? Agree, your Honor, happiness does come in many shapes and quite a number of sizes, pardon my French for a moment here, but four puppies concealing a pair of breasts ain’t no venal sin, and no reason to flaunt the hot iron and brand her virginal shoulder with the imprint of shame… Yes, should you entrust her into my gentle care, I will return the four blessed puppies to the rightful owner, and Miss Cruella here ain’t gonna be roaming through the ruins no more, naked like in the day the good Lord put her in His garden, so help me the pure and holy Virgin an’ all the saints that crowd the heavenly abode! Hell, yeah, Amen, your Honor!