The Superbowl isn't just a chance for millions of Americans to cheer serious head trauma. It's a showcase for the glitziest commercials for Hollywood movies, Chevrolet and anyone else who can afford to spend millions of dollars to appear for 30 seconds during the country's most-watched television event.

This year a personal injury lawyer also bought a Superbowl ad. It only aired in Savannah, Georgia, not across the whole USA, but advertisers spend fortunes on their Superbowl spots - the Transformers trailer alone featured a robot riding a robot dinosaur. How could a lawyer possibly compete?



If you can't watch the video at work, imagine if Meatloaf had directed a legal thriller starring Chuck Norris where every time the script said "scene in court" they crossed it out and wrote "flaming sledgehammer".

It begins with a heroic vow.



The Superbowl audience munch their Doritos with interest. Is this a trailer for Captain America 2?



OK, probably not. Then, in a moody voiceover, Jamie Casino (Jamie.Casino.) introduces himself and explains how, before he was a personal injury lawyer with a spray-on beard and hip style:



And before he threw away hammers:



He was a "notorious" criminal defence lawyer who represented "cold-hearted villains". That's made clear in a flashback to a clean-shaven, conventionally-dressed Casino shaking hands with a valued client/cold-hearted villain over a stack of money:



"My art brought me great wealth", growls Casino. But tragedy struck when his brother was shot. In the flashback Casino's son asks him what he does for a living, and although he doesn't say anything, Casino is clearly filled with shame. "At some point a man must ask why God created him", Casino whispers. And for Casino, that answer appears to be, 'to sue the Savannah police department'. It's not made clear why Casino blames them for his brother's death. All Casino says is that the police were "out of control". That's good enough for me. And it doesn't matter anyway because a huge guitar lick kicks in and Casino visits his brother's misty grave:



Casino crushes a rose with the heel of his boot and flings away a bouquet lying on the grave (it must have been the bouquet from the Savannah police department), revealing a sledgehammer:



Which goes on fire.



As the guitars shred to a crescendo, Casino bursts out of a church wearing a leather jacket, sunglasses and a cool neat beard. The new Casino is here.



Then he smashes up his brother's grave.



Bits of his brother's grave fly at the open-mouthed viewers. The Superbowl is compeletely forgotten.



"I'm attorney Jamie Casino," says Casino as he walks away into a wall of flame, throwing away his hammer, "and I don't represent villians anymore. I speak for innocent victims who can't speak for themselves".



Cut to black. What Transformers?