The Personification Of Day-Time Television Is Taken To Court

"Personification of day-time television, you stand accused of being absolutely shit, how do you plead?" asks the judge.
"I swear that isn't even a proper crime, I don't know why I'm here at all," the personification of day-time television protests. If you're having a bit of trouble picturing what it looks like, it basically looks like a horrendous cross between Jeremy Kyle, Dick Van-Dyke from Diagnosis Murder and one of the Loose Women. With David Dickinson's glasses on.
"How do you plead??" the judge repeats. He's literally having none of it.
"Innocent. I suppose."
Yeah even day-time t.v knows deep down that it's a useless tosser. The trial proceeds, and the prosecution brings out a house wife as the first witness. The prosecution lawyer is ridiculously suave and on-the-ball by the way, but day-time t.v's laywer is proper fat and stupid looking.
"Now, Mrs. Robinson, tell us about the horrific onslaught you suffered at the hands of day-time t.v."
"Well, it was about 1 in the afternoon and I didn't have much to do particularly, so I thought I'd watch some television. However, despite me having Sky plus and having a wealth of channels to choose from, all I could find was...." she begins to cry a little here.
"It's alright Mrs. Robinson," the suave prosecution says.
"....All I could find to watch was some useless bollocks about antiques...."
The jury gasp in horror.
"That's not true!! I swear I was showing something well good about a couple moving house or something!" day-time t.v protests.
"Objection! That program was absolute shit!" the prosecution counters. Day-time t.v looks flustered and is about to offer a pathetic come-back but the judge starts smacking his table with that gay little hammer like mad.
"Order!!" he yells, literally losing his rag.
The fat stupid-looking defence lawyer has a go now.
"I'd like to call out an ill school-child to the stand," he says. Up walks the ill school-child in his pyjamas with a thermometer in his mouth.
"Now then, on your day off you watched a lot of day-time television, am I right?" the fat defence lawyer asks, dabbing at his sweaty brow with a hankie.
"Yeah but it was all rubbish."
Absolute hubbub from the jury.
"What!! What about those cartoons I was showing?" day-time t.v wails.
"They were all from the 80s and didn't make any sense..." the ill school-child reasons. The fat defence lawyer literally shrugs.
"Fucking hell. I'm going down big-time for this," day-time t.v says, head in hands.
The judge reaches for his black cap.
"Even though we don't do the death penalty anymore, your crimes are so heinous and unforgivable that I am sentencing you to be shot in the face. You will be replaced by amazingly good programs about dickhead Brits getting pissed in Eastern Europe and car chases and shit. There will be no more bollocks about buying a holiday house in Spain or stuff about the countryside, or absolute scum talking about their problems. Now fuck off."
By the way the twist is the judge was actually day-time t.v's dad.
(Absolute gasp)