Law & Odor: The Case of Topacio, Teves, and the Extradition That Never Was

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — September 15, 2024

IN A case that could easily be mistaken for an episode of Law & Disorder, our beloved lawyer Ferdinand Topacio has struck again, this time with a bombshell revelation that shook the foundations of international law—or at least the coffee table at the Department of Justice. According to Topacio, the highest court in the land of Timor-Leste—the Supreme Court, which, plot twist, doesn’t exist—has nullified the extradition request of his client, Arnolfo Teves Jr. In other words, Teves is free as a bird, or at least free to continue perfecting his golf swing in house arrest.

Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin “No Fake News on My Watch” Remulla, however, was quick to remind everyone that facts, much like extradition requests, still matter. In a stern but somehow bemused tone, Remulla clarified that Timor-Leste has no Supreme Court. “We may have our own set of creative laws here in the Philippines, but even we know you can’t be overruled by an imaginary court.”

A Case for Topacio’s Legal Wizardry

Now, before we jump to conclusions about Topacio’s grasp of Timor-Leste’s legal structure, let’s remember: this man is an artist. Where others see a straightforward legal process, Topacio sees opportunities for what can only be described as “innovative” interpretations of law. Let us not forget, in the grand tradition of legal creativity, Topacio has simply elevated his craft by adding courts to the jurisdictions in which he operates. Why let pesky details like the existence of a court get in the way of a good argument?

Citing provisions such as “Article I: Make It Up As You Go” and “Section 404: Truth Not Found,” Topacio asserts with confidence that extradition requests can be undone by sheer willpower—or, at the very least, by claiming victory before the ruling even arrives. The man’s practice is truly an ode to legal imagination. Perhaps his next argument will invoke the jurisdiction of Narnia, where extradition requests dissolve the moment they cross through the wardrobe.

Remulla’s Unwavering Crusade for Truth, Justice, and the Proper Names of Courts

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe where facts reign supreme, Remulla is doing his best impression of a modern-day superhero—let’s call him Captain Credibility. Armed with a thick stack of procedural laws, ethics manuals, and the ability to distinguish between existing and non-existent courts, Remulla marches forward in his quest to repatriate Teves. His sidekick? The Philippine Air Force, which, as it turns out, is ready to swoop in at any moment to pluck Teves out of Timor-Leste and return him to face the music—or at least the Manila Regional Trial Court.

Citing the Obvious Truth Doctrine, Remulla has kindly but firmly debunked Topacio’s claim. According to Article 7, Section We Are Not Amused of Remulla’s Manual of Procedural Realities, courts that don’t exist cannot nullify extradition requests. “It’s basic legal theory,” Remulla insists, shaking his head at the surreal turn of events. “No imaginary courts, no imaginary rulings.”

He even referenced Teves v. DOJ, a case that doesn’t exist yet, but surely will, in which the Supreme Court (an actual one, this time) rules definitively that inventing new legal jurisdictions doesn’t constitute a valid defense. “The Court of Appeals in Timor-Leste has already granted the extradition,” Remulla said. “The extradition process is moving forward—whether Topacio wants to believe in existing courts or not.”

Topacio vs. Remulla: A Battle of Wits (and Legal Fiction)

So, which legal juggernaut has the advantage? On one side, we have Topacio’s ability to create entire new courts out of thin air, a skill that would make any Harry Potter fan proud. On the other, Remulla’s relentless insistence on things like “facts,” “evidence,” and “courts that actually exist.” In this battle between creative fiction and procedural reality, it’s hard to say who wins, but we can certainly declare that Topacio’s flair for drama earns him a special place in the annals of Philippine legal theater.

The Legal Shenanigans Handbook: Tips for Topacio, Teves & Remulla

For Topacio: It’s time to push the boundaries further. Forget the Timor-Leste Supreme Court—why not claim Teves’ extradition was nullified by the International Court of Justice on the moon? Better yet, create a new procedural rule: extraditions can only be validated if served during a full moon by a process server riding a unicorn. It’s this kind of out-of-the-box thinking that will truly revolutionize international law.

For Teves: Stay the course. Literally. Continue golfing under house arrest. At this point, your best defense may be to develop a killer handicap—perhaps if you play well enough, you can argue that your golf score proves you’re a man of precision and accuracy, qualities not typically associated with someone involved in 10 counts of murder. If that doesn’t work, there’s always Topacio’s next innovative legal defense.

For Remulla: Hang in there. Sure, it must be exhausting to constantly have to correct claims involving imaginary courts, but at least you get to be the adult in the room. Maybe invest in a copy of “Legal Fiction for Dummies,” just in case Topacio’s arguments evolve further into the realm of science fiction.

The curtain falls on another act of this political circus, but the show must go on. In conclusion, the legal circus continues, and it’s anyone’s guess who will walk away the victor in this case. But one thing is for certain: the next episode of Law & Odor promises to be just as wild as the last. Grab your popcorn.