Now that Michael Jackson seems to have realised that nobody will ever buy any of his records again – even though he legally doesn’t wank off teenage cancer victims – he needs to find a new set of pursuits to pass the time.

And when you’re as famous as Michael Jackson, new pursuits are fairly hard to come by. Once you’ve danced with giant plasticine rabbits, chugged pints of Jesus Juice and dangled babies off balconies, the only hobby that’s really left for you is to mooch around giving surprisingly bitter sworn depositions about how friends of your brother tried to swindle you out of your fortune as part of larger federal case about the state of your finances. Fans of vaguely offensive talk about schmucks, sharks, people from Indiana and Jews are advised to probably keep reading.