The trial thus far had been largely in favor of Carter- his connections were many, his logic sound in the eyes of human interests, an impenetrable force; whereas Brian, who had few assets, virtually no connections, and the rhetoric skills of an insane lunatic, had the sole defense of being caretaker and guardian of Chris, Meg, and Stewie for the past year and a half. Mr. Peabody, whose only real purpose for being there was to give Brian some credibility despite being unable to testify in regards to Brian's character, slowly paced about the room with the patience and calm demeanor of Atticus Finch.
"Ladies and gentlemen" Mr. Peabody began, "The evidence has been presented here in full. As members of the great state of Rhode Island and the city of Quahog it is up to you to make the final decision. But before you do, please remember, it is not a matter of Species but Character. A matter of ability, not just to perform the tasks required for a job or to sustain a household, but also love. It is a matter of duty and honor; for my client, who has always believed that he has had neither, still proves himself to be worthy by taking up the mantle even when he was the least obligated to do so."
Mr. Peabody casually looked about the jury, taking note of the indifferent faces and the general look of disdain that they carried, in part for Brian, and in part, he assumed, for himself. The judge, Clements, could only shake his head and laugh; which was enough for Mr. Peabody to turn towards him and with eyes that pierced even the hardest of hearts and the darkest of souls and gnash his teeth as boldly as he would allow.
"If Brian was a human this case would be over and done in a matter of hours" Mr. Peabody berated, nearing contempt, "Yet you, Mr. Clements, as well as Mr. Pewterschmidt, have decided to make this an issue of species, giving us no chance to defend ourselves!"
Clements laughed again and rolled his eyes, annoyed.
"And what exactly do you know about Rhode Island law?" Clements asked, "What right do you even have to be here, standing like you are, and telling us what is right?"
Mr. Peabody, resisting the urge to jump over the stands and beat Clements into unconsciousness, sighed, refusing to allow the judge, or anyone, the satisfaction of an answer. Turning back towards the jury, who were the only ones that Mr. Peabody needed to convince at this point, the dog continued his statement to the best of his ability.
"The children are not his, they did not come from his flesh or his loins yet he took them in. So Carter's argument in the legality of this situation: a dog, nay, a dog with the thinking capacity to speak and perform as a human, taking guardianship of a human is null and void."
Brian, throughout all of this, could not help but think of Stewie, who that morning had entered the first grade; of Meg, who had started her part-time job at the local ice cream shop and the beginning of her English studies at Brown in the hopes of becoming a teacher; and of Chris, who had recently taken up a job at the brewery. He wondered if they were doing alright, if they were adjusting to the recent changes well, if they cared about the outcome of the case; and most of all, if they would miss him when he lost the case. As he was thinking, Brian casually found his eyes settling on Carter, on the opposite side of the room at the table with his Harvard studied lawyer with a locked briefcase. It was not Carter's suit, which was finely pressed, or the lawyer, who looked as if he were going before the Supreme Court, that caught Brian's attention; it was instead Carter's eyes; the eyes of a man on the brink, tired and sad, as if everything reminded him of a horrible memory or a nightmarish dream that had become a reality.
Brian remembered, a few weeks before, in the Drunken Clam, the night that Vinny, Meg, Quagmire, and most of the people he would consider friends, came into the bar; how happy everyone seemed to be. That even in the deepest and darkest places, there was still a reason to smile. Vinny, who was sitting at the bar, after several minutes of twiddling his thumbs and not looking at anyone, rose to his feet and made his way to the jukebox. Putting in the correct amount of change, the dog, selecting the Proclaimers "I'm Goanna Be", casually began rapping his fist against the wall as rhythmically as he could; immediately causing Quagmire, Meg, and Brian, who was behind the counter cleaning glasses, to smile and dance in their own way, mostly by bobbing back and forth.
It was then that Vinny took up the microphone by the karaoke machine and began singing. By the time the vocalizations came up, the entire bar had joined in, no one caring as to who saw them. Quagmire, Bonnie and Jillian, who were also present, stood up and began jumping up and down, intimating the artists; Brian and Meg, instinctively began harmonizing and became a duo, casually playing off each other as Brian haphazardly continued to do his work. Vincent Venitti, who up until this point played no significant role in anyone's lives, hummed along, for although the Proclaimers wasn't his preferred style of music, he did understand the power of moments and when to accept them as they came.
Brian remembered this moment not because of the Proclaimers, but because it was the last time since that he felt truly happy. The only improvements that he could have suggested would be the inclusion of Chris, Stewie, and Ernie the Giant Chicken; the former two for obvious reasons, and the later because he had come to see the chicken as the brother he never knew. Other than these additions, the memory was a happy one, and one that he constantly referred back to; for even if he lost the case, he would at least aspire to maintain the happiness that he felt. As far as he was concerned, no court, could take such things away.
As Brian was inside of himself, thinking of happier times, Mr. Peabody continued fighting a losing battle.
"The People have already spoken in this regard, why bring it up again?"
Carter stood up at this, refusing to allow Mr. Peabody to blatantly the jury's heart away from the issue.
"That's biased" Carter declared, interrupting, "That was his own case that he took to the court when he got that bastard kid of his."
Mr. Peabody gnarled and sneered, he considered a respectable member of society, but to insult Sherman, was to insult himself, which was something that he could not allow.
"That bastard kid you're speaking of is my son" Mr. Peabody answered, "And I am proud to call him so. As for that case it has its relevancy here. Settled seven years ago Peabody vs. the State of New York unanimously declared the legal rights of an intelligent and complex minded animal such as myself full equality in the matters of humans. That, as far as I'm concerned, is fair game and makes the matter of species irrelevant to this case. It is, always has been, and will remain, a test of character."
Clements banged his gavel, silencing him and causing him to turn towards the judge, who casually broke for lunch. As the courtroom emptied itself, Mr. Peabody made his way towards Brian, who had a notebook and a pen in hand.
"What are you doing?" Mr. Peabody asked curiously, not really wanting an answer and simply trying to make conversation.
Brian sighed and shook his head, he didn't want to believe that the trial was happening, in his mind he was still at the Clam, cleaning glasses and pouring beer.
"Writing a letter" Brian answered, "I don't want the kids to worry about this, they have enough going on right now."
Mr. Peabody rolled his eyes and huffed indifferently, it was bad enough that Brian had already accepted defeat, now he had to deal with the added pressure of the children.
"What is more important than this?" Mr. Peabody replied, answering with a rhetorical question, "Everything they've ever known is hanging in the balance of this trial. We lose and their lives change forever. No more time travel, no more Saturday afternoons in the park. Their interactions with people will be limited to country clubs and hoity-toity bigots and narcissists-"
Brian laughed, for in all senses of the word he was a narcissist who believed himself to be higher and more sophisticated than everyone else around him; a trait he had always possessed in varying degrees. He didn't really say anything on the matter, for he knew that Mr. Peabody knew that he was a narcissist, and rather it was a certain type of narcissist, the ones with power, who used their influence to belittle and control, that were the ones to be avoided.
"They are going to grow up with only themselves" Mr. Peabody continued, "Never making choices, taking risks, or having any kind of original thought. Their creativity will be stifled, their dreams crushed and their ambition replaced with obsession and lust for money and more money. People like Carter speak only one language and if they can teach to people they will, but not so much that the student will rise above the teacher. That is their way. So it has always been, so it will always be."
Brian shook his head pitifully and brushed him off as best he could. Mr. Peabody was too paranoid for his liking, taking the matter too seriously than what the reality of the situation was. He knew that in part, his seriousness was a result of his own personal experiences with the New York Supreme Court, but he also knew it was because in general, Brian was relatively lax in regards to the situation. In his mind, the end result was only circumstantial.
"Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?" Brian said, a little defensive, "I don't like Carter as much as the next guy but he has a point. Technically speaking I'm not a real member of the family, I can't openly claim custody. Besides, they would be financially secured, they would never have to work a day in their lives. They would never know pain, never know suffering like I do. They wouldn't have to spend their days living with a flea bitten alcoholic mixed breed who can barely take care of himself."
Mr. Peabody growled and grunted, annoyed that Brian was defeatist and lax at his own trial; it seemed that he had lost the will to care about anything that happened to him, and thus, all empathy was virtually gone.
"Do you know what the problem with politics is?" Mr. Peabody exclaimed, whispering for the sake of emphasis, "That everyone is so busy arguing about the problem that they forgot what it was. The same is true here. You've been fighting this for so long that you don't even know why you're doing it. Don't give up; they deserve better from you, and so do I."
Walking out of the courtroom with a quick pace, trying to catch the last few minutes of the break, Mr. Peabody could only pity Brian; who sat in his chair and said nothing, taking in the words of his lawyer and trying his best to process them. As he sat in silence he began to reflect on his reasons for being there, and why he chosen to take up the mantle in the first place. Ten minutes later, after much consideration, a few conversations with himself and a reaffirmation of his core beliefs, Brian came to the ultimate conclusion and finished his letter with it, documenting his thoughts for the others lest they become important. As the courtroom filed back into session the deliberations began. The closing statements finished, the jury, one by one, entered the small conference room in the back of the courthouse. When they reemerged, their decision in hands of the foreman, Angela, Peter and Brian's boss. stood up and looked about the room with a slightly guilty face, after which, she cleared her throat and read the verdict.