Failed. Rejected. Irrelevant. Vicious. Evil. These were just some of the epithets former minister Ray Burke hurled at his accuser on the first day of his return to the witness box.
The target was former Fianna Fail colleague, Mr Jim Geraghty, whom Mr Burke repeatedly lashed during his evidence. Mr Geraghty had spent the morning telling the tribunal how he chanced upon Mr Burke and a bagful of cash in the latter's office in Dublin County Council in 1986.
On a second occasion, he was again witness to a bag being deposited in Mr Burke's office. Mr Geraghty claimed Mr Burke threatened to end his political career if he (Geraghty) mentioned the incident to anyone.
"It simply never happened," was Mr Burke's oft-stated response to the allegation. Mr Geraghty was a "rejected, failed, one-term politician who blames everybody for his failure except himself".
He was "the assassin in the middle of the night" who never expected to have to make his allegations in public. "Contempt is the word" Mr Burke chose in relation to his neighbour, former party colleague and sworn foe.
Newly emerged from the life of a recluse in north Co Dublin, Mr Burke was on a short fuse. When Pat Hanratty SC, for the tribunal, asked him something he didn't like, the witness turned to Mr Justice Flood: "I've been insulted by experts, and this guy doesn't rate".
The chairman told him to skip the insults and get on with it.
Mr Burke spent 10 minutes listing the various expenses incurred by the active politician outside election time. Mostly, it seemed to come down to drink. There was looking after canvassers (i.e. buying them drink), visiting sports clubs (and buying drink), entertaining the media (more drink, this time in the Dail bar) and cumann meetings (you guessed it).
If Mr Burke spent more money than others, and therefore needed more, it was because he was more successful than other politicians. Mr Burke's success in 10 elections was based on organising elaborate and expensive campaigns, he argues.
He ventured an overall figure of £275,000 in contributions over 20 years, but the tribunal is likely to come up with a higher figure. In 1989 alone, for example, we know he got £120,000.
But how much information does the tribunal have? Mr Hanratty admitted that it was unable to identify the source of many of the transactions in his accounts.
Mr Burke did provide a list of donors, but it seems these were all for small amounts of £250 to £400, and related to one specific function only.
Then there's the problem of Mr Burke shifting identity. The man known as Raphael or Ray Burke to the public took on a different guise when it came to forming companies or opening bank accounts offshore.
In these cases, Mr Burke opted for a variety of initials chosen from his full name: Raphael Patrick Damien Burke. The witness called it confidentiality, the tribunal concealment.
Mr Hanratty identified three levels of concealment: the formation of a company in Jersey; the use of unusual forms of his name; and the use of a mailing address in England (his sister-in-law's). Counsel said it was clear Mr Burke had gone to an enormous amount of trouble to ensure that no one would know that he had anything to do with the offshore company.