Boston, MA - During the formal sentencing phase of Boston Marathon bomber Dzhokar Tsarnaev, a courtroom full of weeping families and victims of the tragedy finally heard from the mass murderer who had shattered their lives, two long years ago.
Before being officially handed the death sentence, Tsarnaev spoke the words that so many in the court were longing to hear; that he 'was sorry,' and that he 'prayed for the victims of his heinous actions,' finally admitting his guilt.
But, what no one in the room, or anywhere else for that matter, was expecting the doe-eyed psychopath to say, was that he blamed the entire incident squarely on the iconic folk singer, Bob Dylan.
"That picture of me..." he stuttered to explain, "... the one with my hair all tussled and wearing my favorite old leather jacket with the collar turned up - that was taken early one morning after an all-night jam session in my brother's basement. That was the night when Tamerlan finally convinced me that the song, 'Rainy Day Woman #12 & 35,' AKA, 'Everybody Must Get Stoned,' was trying to tell us to kill as many people as possible. But we used nuts and bolts... instead of stones," he admitted. "My brother also told me that the 'Tamborine Man' would come to torture my soul for the rest of eternity, if I didn't help him do it."
Tsarnaev admitted now, that he didn't think Bob Dylan was the anti-christ anymore... probably. And that his brother was more than likely just a crazy whack job, who took a lot of 'roids, jerked off too much, and couldn't even strum the simple A chord necessary to play 'Everybody Must Get Stoned.'
"I should have known that the song was really about smoking weed!" told Tsarnaev. "And... if I had of been strong enough to see through my big brother's ridiculous bullshit, I would have certainly just packed that pressure cooker full of joints instead! But..." he went on to say, "At the time, no one, not even my college professors, could for sure tell me who the 'Tamborine Man' really was. I remember one of my profs even joked that the answer was 'blowing in the wind' - and that really super-duper freaked me out, man!"
Then, after hearing from a dozen or so victims, each of whom recounted horrific details of the aftermath of his actions, a melancholy Tsarnaev was asked by the judge, if he had anything else to say. Dzhokar ended with this: "Yeah, can I have my old leather jacket back now? I'm sure it's still hanging in the back of my closet somewhere, unless one of my stupid roommates stole it. Man, I really loved that jacket! It was so cool. Chicks would be crawling all over me when I wore it around campus. Can I please have it back now? Please, please, please? You said I could, if I apologized nicely to everyone. Come on... Don't piss me off, man... You've seen what happens when I get really, really mad!"
With those words, Dzhokar Tsarnaev was dragged kicking and screaming from the courtroom, carrying on like a baby with a dirty diaper about how much he had paid for the jacket at a trendy Greenwich Village thrift store, and how many hours he had had to work flipping burgers at a shitty Burger King to get it.
These were sadly the very final words most Americans will probably ever hear from this madman, who will soon have a large car battery hooked up to his balls - which should really make his hair very, very fluffy.
-It's a shame he probably won't be getting that old leather jacket back to complete the look while he's riding a lightning bolt into oblivion.