1. Woody Allen would disagree. Because his first wife's attorney was the World's Meanest Lawyer, in the divorce proceedings she received not only custody of the children and possession of the house, the car, the bank accounts, and all the other property but also, if Allen has any kids by a second marriage, she gets those, too.
2. The publication of the this et cetera (DBA Headnotes April 20, 1981) did, indeed, Spoil Everything. The World's Meanest Lawyer was not responsible for the resolution of the Pancho's v. Poncho's tradename dispute. Judge Owen Giles, who conducted the temporary injuction hearing, explains what really happened: the owner of Poncho's Mexican Buffett (which was expanding to Dalls from El Paso) testified repeatedly "that he did not want to be associated in anybody's mind with the Pancho's on McKinney"; this statement was simply "picked up by the lawyers," and the agreed judgment provided that the claimer (Not Associated With Pancho's On McKinny) would be inserted "on all signs, printed matter, and advertising material, of every kind and nature, used by" Poncho's Mexican Buffet in Dallas County.
Tino Ramirez, who participated in the trial of this landmark case ("then licensed a full seven months"), adds this postscript to prove he was not and is not the Worlds' Meanest Lawyer:
After diligent research (in my customary style), I determined that it was imperative to prove that Pancho was the name of our cli-ent, the owner of Panchos on McKinney. His full name being Francisco X. Luna, and the fact being that Pancho is a common nickname for Francisco, prompted me to line up the testimony of an expert witness on Spanish names to so testify. What better ex-pert than the pastor of the Spanish-speaking Catholic Church, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Father Simonl He was a saintly, elderly gen-tleman from the motherland, Spain, and was more than willing to testify to his familiarity with Spanish names and to his hundred thou-sand baptisms.
During the course of the hearing on the temporary injunction, I learned that one of the principals of Ponchos Mexican Buffet was named Alfonso. In Mexico, Poncho is the common nickname for Alfonso, and I KNEW then that I could make our case to prove that the Defendant had intended to use the name of its principal and not our clients name. I quickly advised our lead counsel, Byron Williams, and pleaded that he let me handle the examination of our expert wit-ness. When my excitement reached the point of making me speak to him in Spanish, Byron agreed.
The smoothness of my examination re-garding the name Pancho went down in the annals of trial advocacy (See 1 B.S. 1). Then I proceeded to ask the previously unpracticed question of the proud Spanish gentleman, From what name is the nickname Poncho derived? He pleasantly responded that he did not know. Unflustered, my sight nar-rowed further, and I asked the leading ques-tion. Isnt Poncho the nickname for Al-fonso7 The Spanish priest coiled, his face flushed, his eyes widened, and exemplifying his naivete of Mexican colloquialism, in his impeccable Castillian accent he exclaimed, Nol A poncho is a dress garment! Thus, he demonstrated his repulsion at even the thought that the mother tongue could be so blasphemed, and simultaneously caused me to pass the witness.