Finally The Response

Who is Paolo Panelo, by the way?

Atty Salvador Paolo Panelo is the son of former Presidential spokesperson and Chief Presidential Legal Counsel Salvador Sal Panelo. He specializes in litigation and corporate law.

With him in the driver's seat, his response to why the VP refused to attend the hearing was peppered with highfalutin terms, such as political lynching, fishing expedition, kangaroo court, scoundrel, as if bombarding us with these pompous and elaborate words will make us wonder ... if he uses fancy and pretentious terminologies, it must be the gospel truth.

In fact, the overflowing and ostentatious display of intricate words to add nuance to convey an intellectual flair is cringy ... whatever pogi points he made, and his propensity in rhetoric did not compensate for the minimal charm he intended to increase the attractiveness or the lack thereof of his arguments.

To Paolo Panelo, his school of creative accounting and legal deflection, the truth is merely a suggestion, and a bank account is just a "vibe" that you shouldn't take too seriously.

It was only yesterday when Attorney Paolo Panelo finally addressed the public with his assessment of the House impeachment hearings. 

He calls it a "Shameless Fishing Expedition." And honestly? He’s right. 

The House is fishing. And they aren't just catching little fish—they’re hauling in massive, glistening, multi-million-peso sharks. 

But according to the OVP’s legal team, catching sharks is "political lynching," which means the unsubstantiated, public character assassination or persecution of a political figure, aimed at destroying their reputation or career without due process.

Panelo’s defense of the Vice President’s financial records is a a state of the art in what we can only call Quantum Finance

His argument: If you have a ₱2-million time deposit, and you renew it repeatedly, the bank records might look like you have a massive fortune because of the total transaction volume.

This is brilliant! It’s the "Magic Pocket" defense.

• Imagine having 100 pesos. You put it in your left pocket. That’s 100.

• You move it to your right pocket. That’s another 100.

• You move it back. That’s 100 more.

• Ta-da! You are now a millionaire because you have 300 pesos worth of "transaction history."

By Panelo’s logic, the AMLC is just confused by the VP’s unparalleled financial agility. 

It’s not "unexplained wealth"; it’s just the same 2 million pesos doing a very fast cardio workout.

Attorney Panelo was also furious that the hearings were a "Kangaroo Court." 

What does he call the VP then, when, in another acute episode of mood swings, she will not attend the kangaroo court - a jill, which is a female kangaroo?

It’s an evocative term. It implies that the proceedings are a farce, a circus, and that the judges are just hopping around making kangaroo noises.

And naturally, the only dignified response to a "Kangaroo Court" is to… stay away and make the seat reserved for the VP - empty.

It’s a classic strategy:

• The Court: "Madam Vice President, please explain these suspicious transactions."

• The OVP Lawyer: "This is a Kangaroo Court! We refuse to participate in such absurdity!"

• The Public: "So, what about the money?"

• The OVP Lawyer: "Did you hear me? KANGAROOS! Focus on the kangaroos, not the bank accounts!"

Then there's Antonio Trillanes, the nemesis of the family. The legal team’s strategy is simple: If you can't beat the evidence, call the witness annoying.

Panelo argues that Trillanes relies on "second-hand information." 

In the world of high-stakes law, this is the final resort. 

It’s like being caught in the kitchen with your hand in the cookie jar and shouting, "You only saw me with my hand in the jar because my sister told you to look! 

Her testimony is hearsay! I refuse to be judged by someone who believes in cookies!"

The OVP’s defense is essentially asking us to believe that the Anti-Money Laundering Council (AMLC)—the institution designed to track billions—doesn't know how to read a simple bank statement. 

They are asking us to believe that transaction volumes are just "optical illusions" and that any question about the money is a "lynching."

But here is the irony: A "fishing expedition" only works if there is no fish in the water. 

If you go fishing in a pond and pull out a 200-pound tuna, you don't call it a "fishing expedition"—you call it evidence.

When your lawyer starts explaining that money isn't actually money, but rather a "transactional representation of energetic deposits," you aren't being defended. You're being gaslit by a CPA.