When did you turn the tables in court?????

When did you turn the tables in court?
I was defending a 16-year-old kid named thomas who'd been accused of vandalizing the school's brand new $15,000 bronze statue commemorating their 50th anniversary. The principal was absolutely convinced she had her man, and honestly, at first glance, the evidence looked pretty damning.
The security footage showed someone in a black hoodie spray-painting obscenities across the statue at 3:15 AM on a Saturday night. When thomas walked into our first meeting wearing that exact same hoodie - complete with the distinctive torn left sleeve and faded Metallica logo on the back - even I had my doubts about his innocence.
The prosecutor, Jennifer Walsh, was practically gloating during opening statements. This was supposed to be an easy win for her career record. She kept emphasizing how clear-cut the case was, how the evidence spoke for itself.
The principal, Mrs. Henderson, took the stand with the confidence of someone who'd caught a criminal red-handed. She'd been at this school for 15 years and prided herself on knowing every troublemaker by sight.
"The footage is absolutely crystal clear," she testified, adjusting her glasses smugly while pointing at thomas. "Same height, same build, same distinctive hoodie with that torn sleeve. I've dealt with this particular student's troublemaking history for three years now. He's been suspended twice for graffiti incidents, once for defacing bathroom stalls, and his grades are consistently poor. This fits his pattern perfectly."
The prosecutor played the footage on repeat for the jury. I'll admit, the resemblance was uncanny. The figure moved with the same lanky teenager gait, wore an identical hoodie, and was clearly familiar with the school layout, knowing exactly where to avoid other security cameras.
Mrs. Henderson continued her testimony with increasing confidence. "I watched this footage at least fifty times. I know my students, and I know their troublemaking patterns. This is definitely thomas."
"Mrs. Henderson," I began my cross-examination calmly, "you're absolutely certain this vandalism occurred at 3:15 AM?"
"Absolutely. I've reviewed the timestamp dozens of times with our security consultant."
"And you personally verified this footage shows Saturday, March 12th?"
"Correct. No doubt whatsoever. I have the metadata report right here."
"You stake your professional reputation on these details being completely accurate?"
She practically scoffed. "Without question. 25 years of experience doesn't lie."
That's when I pulled out my phone and connected it to the courtroom display system. "Your honor, I'd like to submit this screenshot from my client's Instagram story, posted that exact night."
The image filled the screen - thomas at his cousin's wedding reception in Chicago, 200 miles away. He was clearly visible in a group photo with the wedding party, wearing his signature black hoodie. The timestamp read 3:14 AM, March 12th. Exactly one minute before the alleged vandalism occurred.
Mrs. Henderson's confident expression started cracking.
I zoomed in on thomas's hoodie in the Instagram photo. The left sleeve was completely intact - no tear whatsoever.
"Mrs. Henderson, you testified that the defining characteristic was this torn sleeve, correct?" I pointed back to the security footage. "You said it was unmistakable evidence. Yet here's my client, one minute earlier, 200 miles away, wearing the same hoodie with no damage."
Her face went from confident to pale to absolutely mortified. The prosecutor started frantically shuffling through papers, realizing her slam-dunk case was crumbling.
I wasn't finished. "I'd also like to submit these phone records showing my client's location data from that entire weekend, plus receipts from the Chicago hotel where his family stayed for the wedding, gas station receipts from the drive, and testimony from twelve wedding guests who can place him there all night."
The judge reviewed everything for what felt like an eternity. You could hear a pin drop in that courtroom. Finally, he looked up with barely contained irritation directed at the prosecution.
"Case dismissed with prejudice."