January 1, 6:24 PM
Prosecutor's Office
Floor 15, Room 17
Franziska von Karma sighed as she pushed away yet another legal document. Finally, all of her reports for the day had been filed, and there was nothing else that needed doing. She stood up from her seat and took a quick glance across her office, making sure everything was neat, tidy and in order. Then, she caught herself and stopped her train of thought. Of course everything would be neat, tidy and in order. Of this, there would be no question. She was a von Karma. Von Karmas were not only perfect in any way, shape or form, but they were also the tidiest beings you would ever meet. Their secretaries would know of that fact, even if it killed them.
She stepped away from her chair and made her way around her rather large desk in the direction of the door. On her way, though, she stopped short as something out of the corner of her eye had caught her attention. Frowning, she turned ninety perfect degrees to her left and marched towards the offending sight. The object she was staring at was a globe, a replica of the planet Earth, positioned on a pedestal, which could be spun around freely. Curling her lip, she bent forward for a closer look as the thing that caught her attention came into view: a small speck of dust that her secretary had likely unintentionally missed during the room's daily cleanup. To a normal person such a dust speck would hardly be seen by the naked eye, and if it was noticed, no one would care in the least. However to Franziska, even the halfway indistinguishable dust specks would be nothing short of obvious. And she obviously did care! Her vision briefly started to fade as the ever-familiar emotion of anger began to cloud her mind, as it had done several times that day.
"Such fools in this office! Such fools in this country, even! Can't they do ANYTHING right?!" The woman prosecutor was positively seething. Without thinking, she grabbed her whip and raised it above her head, ready to lash at the globe.
Then, all at once, she caught herself again. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, lowering her whip. Her rage began to subside. She wasn't thinking clearly. She was tired, and she knew it.
This day, New Year's Day, was rather a long one. She had been sitting in her office filing reports and scribbling on legal documents since seven o'clock in the morning, taking breaks only to eat her lunch and/or use the facilities. As it was New Year's Day, she expected it to be a rather quiet day, as anyone who frequented the Prosecutor's Office would be suffering from hangovers after a night of celebrating the coming of the New Year. And a quiet day was both a good day and a golden opportunity. She needed this silence to complete her paperwork of the day and ponder the drastic turn in her professional career since arriving in America.
That quiet day turned out to be not-so-quiet after all. After the arrival of an unexpected visitor, the office suddenly turned into a busy atmosphere. For some reason, all of the prosecutors decided to treat New Year's Day as a normal work day, or at least the afternoon part of it. Or, that was how it looked on Floor 15 of the Prosecutor's Office, at any rate. Franziska did not have the chance to visit any of the other floors that day. From the end of lunch hour onward, she faced what she would normally face on a typical work day: people coming in to bug her about something, loud, irritating noises of cleaning equipment the custodians would be using, and annoying, senseless chatter of fools coming from the hallway. If Franziska felt her tolerance level being breached, she would scatter the fools with the lashing of her whip. Heaven help anyone that she had in her sights.
One thing she could not deny, she had a headache. The constant interruptions that irked her kept coming almost one by one, non-stop. All of this leading to the realization that this was going to be a rather crummy day. She wasn't wrong, she knew, as she thought back through each and every one of the day's occurrences. Perhaps the only good thing about her day was…
Sighing again, she turned her head towards her office door, which was closed. She looked up at a clock that was hanging above the door. It was 6:28 PM, now. That was enough. Normally, she would stay at least until eleven PM until she would consider leaving for the night; even later if she had a case to present the next day. But today was different. Today she had exerted all of her energy that day, and she needed to get home to rest. She had already planned to leave early anyway, so that she could spend the night just…thinking. But now she was so tired that even thinking seemed like too much work. She needed to get to bed.
Wordlessly, she turned away from the globe and walked towards the coat rack sitting next to the office door. She made a mental note that she would have a talk with her secretary about upholding the von Karma's standards of a clean room, a discussion which probably did not need the persuasion of her whip, but she wasn't about to rule it out completely.
She lifted her coat off the coat rack and was about to slip it on. All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door, surprising her. She frowned.
"Another visitor? Now what do they want?" Franziska felt what was left of her patience begin to slip away. She had had enough intrusions for one day and wanted to go home. If this did not go quickly…
She opened the door, and was shocked by what she saw. Standing in front of her was the man who was the cause of her recent failures upon arriving in America. His blue suit, his magenta tie, his sheepish grin and his spiky haircut; it was none other than Phoenix Wright, semi-famous defence attorney and, at this moment, her rival.
Phoenix was standing in the doorway, much like he had earlier that day, and he was not doing very well. Franziska's eyes almost went wide as she saw the state he was in. All over his face and hands, the only pieces of flesh visible to her line of sight, were throbbing dark red marks, most likely caused by him feeling the full brunt of the prosecutor's whip. She naturally assumed there were even more marks around his body, underneath his clothing. The attorney must have sensitive skin or something. She knew her whip would always leave marks behind in its wake; Detective Gumshoe was a good example of this, but never had the marks been so visible than they were on Phoenix. Her eyes shifted downwards towards her whip. Maybe she WAS being too hard on people?
"Uh, hello again, Ms. Von Karma," he said, grinning and waving. Somehow, he didn't notice that the prosecutor's attentions weren't even directed at him, at the moment. At the sound of his voice, Franziska snapped back to attention, her sour mood returning. She frowned.
"Mr. Phoenix Wright," she said tersely, "I will warn you right away: I am not in the best of moods right at the moment. Whatever you have to say to me had better be quick!" Beat. The prosecutor grinned, showing her teeth. "Or are you saying you haven't had enough from earlier?" Her hand intrinsically moved towards her whip.
As if he was expecting this, Phoenix raised his hands so that he was shielding his face. "Uh, no," he said quickly. "I'm just dropping by because I had a couple of questions to ask you. This'll take no time at all. Ten minutes at the most."
"Ten minutes?!" The prosecutor's grin quickly disappeared from her face. Her frown got slightly deeper. Her hand grasped the whip's handle, gripping it tightly. Phoenix gasped and brought his hands closer to his face, readying himself for another barrage of whipping. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. Then, from out of the silence, he heard a sigh. He opened one eye and cautiously looked out from between his hands. Franziska had let go of her whip and had her arms crossed, coat in hand, with her eyes closed.
"Fine. Ten minutes. But that's ALL you get. Do you understand me, fool?" she spat. Phoenix nodded his head violently, desperate to show his compliance with her terms. Franziska huffed, put her coat back on the coat rack and turned around. "Very well. Enter."
Quickly, Phoenix followed behind her, not daring to close the door. Franziska stopped in front of her desk and turned around. "I'd offer you a chair, but I haven't one present at the moment," she said coldly.
"That's okay, I'd rather stand anyway, thank you," he said, wincing in pain. His wounds apparently were getting to him.
"Very well, then. State your business."
She waited as patiently as she could muster, but no response came. Phoenix looked down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. He appeared to be mulling something over. But this mattered little to Franziska. In actuality, this was bothering her even more. Here was her rival, standing directly in front of her, given the okay to speak, and he doesn't take it. He just stands there, as stiff as a foolish board. Silence hung in the air for a good fifteen seconds, then:
"FOOL! Did you not hear me?! I said you could speak! So SPEAK! Do NOT try my patience any further, Mr. Phoenix Wright!"
Phoenix jumped back when he heard this. "In a minute! I'm trying to get my nerve up, here!" he snapped back, achieving a courage he did not feel. He looked back down at the ground, trying to avoid the death glare Franziska was giving him. After a few seconds, he looked back up at her.
"Okay! Okay, I think I'm ready." He took a deep breath, feeling calm. Of all the emotions to feel… He gave her the most serious look he could muster. "Now, my first question: ………Who are you, exactly?"
Without hesitation, Franziska quickly grabbed her whip and struck at the ground in front of him. Phoenix screamed and jumped back. That whip would have hit his crotch had he been not a few inches closer to her.
"You come in here asking a foolish question such as that! Are you insane?!" she shouted, her vision starting to cloud up again. "I should impale you for that!"
"Now, h-hold on!" he replied, his calm demeanour quickly returning to him. "I don't know what kind of day you've had, but just go with me on this. Just answer the question. Answer it as if I didn't even know you; as if I'm seeing you for the first time."
Franziska clenched her fists. She was way too tired to start playing games, but for the sake of her sanity, she would humour him. "Hmph. Fine." She stood up straight and stretched her arm forward, speaking in her most serious tone of voice.
"My name is Franziska von Karma, daughter of Manfred von Karma. As my father has taught me, a von Karma is perfect in every way, shape or form. I perform my duties with the greatest of ease and with the utmost precision. There is nothing in the world that I cannot do. I am perfect."
Silence. Phoenix felt himself cringing on the inside. Perfection. How he hated that word now. At the same time though, as she was speaking, he couldn't help but notice that her voice had an almost regal-sounding quality to it. Almost immediately following that thought, he was brought back to reality. He grinned, despite himself.
"Right. That's what I wanted to hear," he lied. "You're 'perfect.' So, by being 'perfect', I imagine that you must be really skilled at various things, is that correct?"
"Is that not what I just told you, fool?!" she shouted again, obviously annoyed. "Why do you feel the need to ask questions you already know the answer to?! Do you enjoy annoying me to no end?!" A short pause, then, "Honestly, how I managed to lose two trials to you is well beyond me."
"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Which brings me to my next question. Franziska," He paused and took a breath.
"Do you know how to burp well?"
Dead silence hung in the air as Franziska tried to process the question she was just asked. It was so far away from what she expected to hear that her brain felt like it had momentarily disconnected. To say the question surprised her would have been an understatement.
"E…excuse me?"
"You heard me," said Phoenix, still keeping a straight face. "Do you know how to burp well?"
"Uh…I…What?! A lady does not…" She really had no idea what to say. She was literally stunned to silence. Phoenix seemed to be expecting this, so he decided he would let her take her time. He folded his arms, being careful not to irritate any bruises, and closed his eyes, waiting for her to respond.
Eventually, Franziska's mind returned to her. From then on, she wracked her brain hard, trying to come up with any possible way to attack the ridiculous question Phoenix had just asked her. She had no doubt that the question asked of her was foolish. Indeed, it was a topic interesting to no one but foolish, disgusting pigs. The more she thought about it though, the more she realized that even this would be something that a von Karma would excel at doing, no matter how gross it was. And at the same time, she realized that she had no idea how to burp effectively, as this was something her father instructed her not to do, even as a baby. This mostly had to do either because of her gender, or because she was a von Karma, one of the two. Likely both.
'I will not have you making such disgusting sounds in my household. A von Karma does not engage in such frivolities. Are you a von Karma, or are you a common fool?'
These had been her father's words. Remembering them, Franziska decided to use them as a backup to her response.
"You are a fool, Phoenix Wright," she said, frowning once more. "My father had always told me that such a vile act would be frowned upon. He never encouraged me to do it, and promised great punishment whenever I went against him, so I would leave it alone." She paused briefly, then added, "…Besides, I am a lady, and a lady does not do such things."
"Hm. That's interesting. Very interesting," Phoenix replied, still keeping his composure. "So, is that to say you can't do it?"
"… Do what?" she asked. She groaned on the inside. She could just guess where this conversation was going.
"Burp. Are you saying you can't burp?"
"I did not say that I could not do what you ask of me. I just choose not to, based on past experience. And because I am a woman."
"So, can you do it or not?"
"If it came down to it, I suppose I most definitely could do…that." If Phoenix was paying attention, he could tell that her answer was rushed. Franziska's cheeks began to redden as she knew exactly where this was going now.
"Is that right? Would you like to prove it for me?"
The woman prosecutor felt like slapping herself. He was actually asking her to… In a slight panic, she tried to make it look like she hadn't heard the question. "Um, what?"
"You heard me. Prove to me that you can burp. Just like you said, you're a von Karma, and von Karmas are perfect at everything. So this should be no sweat for you, right?" For the moment anyway, Phoenix seemed to be enjoying himself.
Well, that was it. He had spelled it out for her. The prosecutor sighed as she knew there was no turning back now. Before she could answer though, Phoenix cut in.
"Or, you know, you don't have to prove it for me. We could just drop it, say you're too chicken and I leave here with the knowledge that you von Karmas aren't as perfect as I thought." He sounded very cocky. As soon as he finished saying that, he jumped almost two feet in the air as the floor in front of him got whipped again. He immediately regretted his words.
Franziska stared at the defence attorney with gritted teeth and a deep frown on her features. "I will not allow you to leave this room with that thought in your foolish head." She let her whipping arm drop to her side and she stood upright. She took a deep breath.
"Very well, fool. You want me to prove that I can 'burp' as you say, so I will. I am perfect. As my father said to me many times, if by some circumstance, there is something that I do not know how to do, it is my goal to learn it so that I may execute it flawlessly. And so I will."
Phoenix found himself chuckling at this. He stopped as he was given another death glare. Silence hung into the air as Franziska pondered what to do next. After a few seconds, she looked up at Phoenix, embarrassed.
"It…it pains me to say this, attorney, but I am not sure how to start up such a foolish action." The attorney looked like he was burst into hysterics, despite himself. She quickly cut in. "You have to understand, fool, I was forbidden to do what you ask of me, so I cut it away from my habits. If I remember correctly, the last time I tried this, I was…" she paused as she tried to remember her age the last time she tried her hand at burping. "…five years old. I'm eighteen, now. Thirteen years is a long time to keep something blocked out of your memory."
Phoenix was dumbfounded. "You gotta be kidding me! You mean to tell me that you really don't know how to burp?! How is that even possible?" he asked, desperately trying to keep himself from laughing. "What kind of human being intentionally forces herself not to burp? That's weird!"
Franziska regained her stern composure. "Don't patronize me, Mr. Phoenix Wright. Or did you forget already I still have my whip with me?" she said in a sing-song voice, almost.
The attorney, realizing he was getting close to being in hot water, backed off. "Okay, okay. You win," he said quickly. The prosecutor turned red-faced.
"Just humour me, attorney. Just like you did. Explain to me how to go about this foolish action as if I have never done it before. That way, I can take in the information and execute it superbly." She said, feeling very ashamed of herself. Phoenix drew a breath.
"Well, what can I say? Burping…all you're doing is expelling or forcing air out of your system. But, in order for that to happen you essentially have to gulp down various amounts of air. Obviously, the more air you swallow, the better the burp will be." He grinned. "Now, not to brag, but back in high school, I was the burping champion. No one could top me, not even my friend Larry Butz. And you know what the best thing is? I could let out the biggest burps even though I only swallowed down only one breath of air. Crazy, huh?"
The prosecutor woman just stared at Phoenix as if he had completely lost his mind. The attorney couldn't help but snicker slightly.
"All of this must be lost on you, huh?"
"Not at all," she replied. "I just have no idea why I'm doing this. This is, on all accounts, the most foolish thing I am about to do."
"It's not foolish! Burping is an art! In some circles, it's considered acceptable social behaviour. So much so that it's become intrinsic behaviour. You know, in some countries, burping after a meal is considered a compliment. Think about it! If you DIDN'T burp after a meal, you'd actually be saying that you hated the meal or something and everyone would look at you with disdain." He looked at her with a straight face. "You don't want people to look at you with disdain, do you?"
"I COULD CARE LESS WHAT THOSE FOOLS THOUGHT OF ME!" she shouted.
"Yeah, you would, you snobby dominatrix," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" she asked, brows furrowed. Phoenix's eyes instantly went wide, realizing he might have been heard.
"Nothing, nothing!" he said quickly, waving his hands in front of his face. After he calmed down, he gave her a hard stare. "Now, you say you haven't burped in thirteen years? That's...very hard to believe. But if you are telling the truth, then just swallowing air probably won't be enough to pull off the 'perfect' burp. Luckily, burping can also be caused by drinking almost any kind of beverage. You'd get the best results with a carbonated beverage, however. Soda pop, for example."
She looked at him with an exasperated look. She held up her arms. "Look around, attorney. Do you see a fridge anywhere in the vicinity?"
Phoenix held up his right index finger. "Not to worry, I have just the thing." With that, he disappeared out her office door around the corner. Five seconds later, he returned holding a blue soft drink cooler with a white lid. There was a glass balancing on the lid. He looked at her, beaming. Franziska looked at him in disbelief.
"You mean to tell me you actually planned that far in advance? You are a very confusing man, Mr. Phoenix Wright," she said, perturbed. Phoenix set the cooler down on the floor.
"You know, that's exactly what all the girls used to say to me in junior high," he said, innocently. "Weird. Anyway, check it out."
He took the glass off the cooler and opened the lid, revealing a wide assortment of beverages: soft drinks, juices, milk, water and various beers and wines. Franziska stared at the contents of the cooler, then back at Phoenix. The attorney stared back at her, a smile on his face.
"I'm underage," she said, tersely.
"I know," he said evenly.
"Then why…oh, never mind." The prosecutor could feel her I.Q. points starting to drop quickly.
"Take your pick," he said cheerfully, gesturing towards the cooler contents.
Franziska took a long look at the wide assortment of choices. None of them seemed very appetizing. Most of them were name brands, each of which left her with a nauseous kind of feeling, caused either by the taste or the fact that it was made by the fools of the world. After a couple of minutes, she settled on a bottle of flavoured fizz water. Lemon.
"Hmm. Not very gutsy today, are we?" said the attorney, disappointed. Apparently, he was hoping she'd pick something else.
"Silence, fool! Be grateful I'm doing this at all," she responded, annoyed. She went to her desk and sat down. Phoenix scooped up the glass and water and walked over beside her. He popped open the bottle and poured her a glass. Franziska picked up the glass and stared at it, feeling nervous, despite herself. "I still can't believe I'm doing this."
"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Phoenix chanted, moving his arms in time with his words. He stopped chanting when the prosecutor gave him a look of scepticism.
"Mr. Phoenix Wright. Are you feeling all right? I have never seen you act like this, before. Have you lost your mind?" She sounded like she was speaking to a child. Phoenix grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.
"Sorry. Just a little encouragement to lighten the mood. You're acting like your drink is poisoned," he said, trying to calm down.
"My wellbeing is no concern of yours, fool. Remember, I could whip you right now if I so felt like it," she spat viciously. Phoenix gulped, ashamed at his behaviour. Suddenly, from out of nowhere:
"You know, if you're not up to this, we could do this another time. It's no trouble. I mean, I'm basically forcing you to do something you've blocked out of your system for many years. That's not really very nice of me, is it?"
Franziska stared at the attorney in disbelief. Then she caught herself and looked away from him, putting a hand in front of his face. "Now you're just trying to distract me. Well, it won't work, you foolish fool."
Without another thought, she inhaled the drink in three gulps. She waited a moment. Nothing. Wordlessly, she snapped her fingers for another glass. Phoenix obeyed and quickly filled the glass to the rim. After three more refills, Franziska set the glass aside and looked ahead, eyes narrowed. All that water at once was making her stomach hurt. Phoenix was staring at her in disbelief. She didn't expect the prosecutor to down so much fluid at once. After a few moments of silence, he decided to speak.
"Apply pressure to your lungs…make like you're going to exhale…make sure it comes from the whole of your chest and not just from the back of your throat…" he whispered softly. He had meant his words as a form of encouragement but, from her expression, he couldn't tell whether he was helping or not.
Meanwhile, Franziska was feeling miserable. She was applying strain to her lungs, but nothing was happening. Why had she agreed to this, anyway? This was a foolish exercise of outwardly juvenile behaviour. If her father was still alive to see her, he would be looking upon her with shame. This made her feel rotten. To try and distract from that unpleasant thought, she tried thinking about her day. Then, she realized that this was pointless. As she already knew, her day was filled with all sorts of small unpleasantries that kept building up into something larger and larger. This reminded her of her headache, which somehow made her look at the big picture. Her day was a headache. Her time in America was a headache. Practically her whole life was nothing but one big headache. It was crazy. She couldn't take it anymore. She felt like a great weight was crushing her flat. She felt like she could explode at any minute. All she could think about was that she wanted it all to end…
"BURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!!!!"
She didn't know what had happened. Everything was a blur. All of her focus was spent on her negative emotions to the point that after she did it, she almost thought she hadn't. And when she realized that she had, she was overcome by several different emotions: wonder, uncertainty, embarrassment and incredulity. At the same time, however, she felt a huge release of stress. All of a sudden, all of the strain and negative energy she felt from her day seemed like nothing. She still had a headache, but that didn't seem to matter so much. Most of her stress up to that moment in time seemed to dissolve into nothing; leaving her in a state of calm and pleasantness (something she would definitely not admit in mixed company).
"Did…did that sound come from me?" she asked, feeling weak from the sudden attack of emotions.
A short pause, then: "Yes. Yes, it most certainly did. …Wow."
Phoenix, meanwhile, was taken aback by the sound Franziska had just made. To Franziska, she had done nothing but produce an impolite noise. Coming to terms with it, she felt rather ashamed of herself. In Phoenix's eyes, however, the prosecutor had surprised him by letting out one of the loudest, clearest burps he had ever heard. While it certainly wasn't the longest burp he had ever heard, the overall strength, pitch and sound quality made up for it. It wasn't a burp that was made just for laughs (which meant that it was made using little to no effort); it was one of those burps that came all the way down from the pit of your stomach, one that guaranteed a certain release of discomfort after eating too much at a meal. It was honestly one of the most impressive burps he had ever heard in his life and this coming from a woman. He didn't know what to think now.
"Well," he said, his expression unreadable, "if I had to take a vote, I'd say that that your performance was really impressive. I daresay it was...perfect?"
Franziska was still a little shaken up by the whole experience, then she quickly shook it off and returned to her normal behaviour. She smirked and tossed back a strand of hair.
"Of course it was, what have I always told you, attorney?" she said pompously, "I am a von Karma. I am perfect. If there is anything I don't know how to do, I will learn it intensively and memorize it meticulously until I can execute it in the most flawless way possible." She cast an eye at Phoenix. "Surely you haven't forgotten how my father forcefully taught a parrot how to respond differently to his commands? I'm no different than that."
"No, I haven't forgotten about that. It still amazes me that he had that kind of influence."
The prosecutor shook her head, and got up from her desk. "Whatever. I've completed your little test. As you can see, I can 'burp as good as the rest of them', the fools. It still does not change the fact that this was a rather immature game, however, and you will likely not see me participate in this kind of foolish activity ever again, lest I wish to tarnish my reputation. If you ever try to persuade me to do something like this again, I will assure that your career as an attorney will be cut drastically short." She whipped her desk to emphasize her point. "Are we clear, Mr. Phoenix Wright?"
"Crystal," he responded, still hiding his emotions.
"Good. Was that all you needed?" she asked with disinterest. No response. "If so, then it's time you took your leave. I am leaving my office early for once, as I have some…things to do. What they are is of no concern to you, before you ask. Gather up your stuff and follow me, please."
She brushed past him and began making her way towards her coat rack. Suddenly, Phoenix started to talk. He sounded uneasy.
"Well, I have to admit, I actually didn't think you would pull it off. I expected you to either only manage a pitiful burp or nothing at all. Instead, you let out one of the most powerful sounding belches I've ever heard in my life. I'm serious; most men I know couldn't even pull off a burp like that." A pause, then,
"You sure you're not a man?"
There was a long and horrible silence as Franziska stopped dead in her tracks, keeping her back to him. All of a sudden, the air seemed wrought with tension. The attorney gulped. He was definitely in for it this time, and he still was nowhere close to recovering from his beating earlier that morning.
"…This would've been another bet I lost to Maya…and we did rock-paper-scissors this time. Best two out of three…I'm so stupid…"
There was no response. The prosecutor slowly turned her head towards the hapless defence attorney. Her eyes were in a deep frown, her teeth were bared and the vein in her forehead was throbbing. She started slowly turning her body towards her prey.
"…This time, it was a bet to see if I could get you to belch as best you could. If it was a really impressive burp, like it was, then I had to pop that question on you. If it wasn't, then I could get off scot-free…guess we know how that turned out…"
Franziska still said nothing as she now perfectly centered herself so she was facing Phoenix in full. Ever so slowly, she began taking medium-sized menacing steps towards her soon-to-be-dead rival. Phoenix, desperate to take his mind off of his impending doom, kept talking nonchalantly.
"…Mama always told me to treat each day as if it was my last, be smart about what you do in life and be friendly to other people and not insult them…Some child I am, huh?"
The wild-eyed prosecutor stopped mere inches in front of the spiky-haired attorney, red-faced and breathing through her nose heavily. He could faintly feel the breath on the bottom of his neck. All of a sudden, in a moment of sheer absurdity, he noticed that they were almost close enough to kiss. That gave him an idea for a last stand:
"You know, this might be a bad time, but I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you look when you're angry. Has anyone ever told you that?"
Unfortunately, that idea didn't help his cause in the least. Ever so slowly, Franziska brought her hand down to her whip, and tightened her grip around the handle. Then, without warning, her arm went up in a blur, the whip flying with it. Phoenix could actually feel the cool air from the motion massaging his weary form, probably one of the last pleasant feelings he'd feel for awhile. He marvelled in awe at the sight before him. Eyes wide and teeth bared to the fullest, the female prosecutor looked like a wild animal, ready to strike at any moment. The defence attorney could feel his heart sinking. Hopefully, he'd still have a heartbeat after this.
"Oh boy," he said breathlessly, and screwed his eyes shut tightly.