It had all started so innocently. Phoenix and Larry had met for lunch and things had proceeded quite normally. Larry had whined about his latest romantic failure, Phoenix spoke about his most recent client, Mr. Benjamin Eric Factor, and how he had paid most handsomely for Phoenix's services.
Looking back, it had all started when, after being seated at a table in a restaurant, Larry raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Hey, Nick, do you think dogs hiccup?"
Phoenix, who had been carefully planning his meal with no doubt he would be paying for Larry's too, looked up from the menu. Larry had actually asked a rather good question.
After glancing out of the window for any flying pigs, Phoenix told Larry that he wasn't sure.
Lunch passed expensively but uneventfully. Phoenix finished first, having ordered a sensible amount, so he watched as Larry tried to shove large piles of food into his mouth and failing. At least his shirt seemed to be enjoying the meal. Despite Phoenix's gradually increasing concern, it turned out that Larry's stomach was not bottomless and he asked for the rest of the food in a doggy bag.
Afterwards, the duo parted ways and Phoenix headed back to his office, Larry's earlier question completely pushed from his mind.
Unfortunately it hadn't been pushed from Larry's, as Phoenix later found out when Larry burst into his office, a mangy excuse for a canine dangling from his arms.
A number of questions rose in Phoenix's mind at this point, but one stood at the forefront.
"Larry, what the hell?"
Larry lifted the dog to eye level and thrust it excitedly at Phoenix.
"It's a dog, Nick! A dog!'
Phoenix backed away. The dog had a terrible stench, not to mention how it resembled a dishevelled man who had long since gone postal.
"Don't worry," Larry said, noticing Phoenix's reaction, "he's really nice. Right, boy?"
The dog growled in what Phoenix hoped to be an affirmative and not a hunger for human flesh. Larry set it down on the ground and it began wandering around the office, sniffing at this and that.
"Kinda looks like Edgey, doesn't it?" Larry said
Phoenix looked from Larry to the dog and then, with a raised eyebrow, back at Larry.
"Maybe if Edgeworth fell in a river."
"Nah, you're right," Larry said, "More like that detective that's always hanging around him. What's his name… Rubberfoot?"
"Gumshoe."
"Yeah, him. Say, you think he and Edgey are together?"
"No." Phoenix said, and then he paused, considering it. "No."
Phoenix shook his head. He was getting sidetracked from what he should really be dealing with, which was currently settling itself down on the office sofa.
"Larry, why did you bring that dog here?"
"I'm gonna see if it can hiccup."
"How, exactly?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet."
Phoenix wondered if he had even thought about it at all or if he had just seen the dog while walking home and grabbed it.
"Larry, you can't just grab strays off of the street to use a guinea pigs."
Larry looked at him with a genuinely confused look on his face.
"But… I'm using it as a dog."
The comment left Phoenix reeling for a moment. Any flying pigs that had spawned earlier would have just gone down like the Hindenburg, producing enough bacon to satisfy both Larry and Maya for weeks.
Phoenix shook his head and sighed exasperatedly.
"Get it out of here, Larry."
"Sure," Larry said, pulling out the doggy bag from earlier, "but let me experiment first."
The dog, apparently smelling the food, sat up as Larry approached. Phoenix watched as Larry took some chicken from the bag and offered it to the dog, and suddenly he knew what would happen next.
Larry screamed as the dog bit into a special edition Larry flavoured snack with a side of chicken and tried to pull his hand away, but the dog refused to relent it's grip.
"NICKGEDDITOFFGE DDITOFFGEDDITOFF!"
Phoenix grabbed a newspaper from a nearby desk and, after rolling it into a tube, he began hitting the dog on the nose. With frightening speed, the dog let go of Larry's hand and snapped at the newspaper, tearing it to shreds as it was pulled from Phoenix's hand.
While the dog was busy ending the newspaper's already short lifespan and any chance of recycling, Phoenix grabbed the doggy bag from Larry and ran to the door, pulling it open.
"Hey, Gumshoe," Phoenix yelled at the dog as he threw the bag out of the door, "Go fetch!"
The dog did so, and Phoenix slammed the door shut and leaned against it, panting. Had he called the dog Gumshoe? He had to admit, the dog did bear some resemblance to him, and if Edgeworth really did cut the detective's pay as much as he claimed then it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine him acting similarly over dome food. Maybe Gumshoe lived with the dog. Or with a pack of them.
Phoenix was brought back to reality by Larry's groaning.
"Stupid demon dog," he whined.
"Stupid idiot who waved a bag of food in it's face,' Phoenix said, throwing him a dishtowel.
After checking to see if the dog was gone, Phoenix and Larry took a taxi to the hospital.
In fact, now that Phoenix thought about it, Larry was involved in most of Phoenix's trips to the hospital, whether it was directly or indirectly. Well, when something smells… you can assume it has a nose.
But still, for all his misgivings, Larry was a good friend. He'd give you the shirt off of his back if you asked, but probably only the shirt, and not the orange one since that was his favourite.
After a solid thirty or so minutes of sitting around in the waiting room, Larry was called up. He walked towards the room then, after looking inside, turned around and walked back.
"Nick, come with me!" He said in a hushed tone.
"What, are you scared?" Phoenix said.
"Man, just come on!"
Phoenix sighed and began following Larry.
"Don't sigh so much." Larry said.
"What?" Phoenix asked. He wasn't aware he'd being doing it 'so much'.
"It's weird, you know," Larry said, "like you're deflating or something."
Phoenix spent the rest of the short walk wondering whether or not Larry had made a joke or if he was over thinking things. He forgot all about that, though, as he entered the room and saw the reason he had been brought along.
The doctor was an attractive female. Apparently Phoenix was to play wingman.
The doctor unwrapped the dishcloth from around Larry's hand and winced sympathetically at the wound.
"How did this happen?" She asked, reaching for some items.
Larry sat up to his full height and prepared to regale the doctor with the story he had no doubt been hastily throwing together from the moment he had seen her.
"You should have seen it, this missive dog was run—"
"He annoyed a stray dog and it bit him." Phoenix cut in, determined to put an end to Larry's exaggerations before they got out of hand.
Larry turned to Phoenix and gave him an incredibly despairing look as he mouthed 'What the hell, dude?' Phoenix shrugged back unsympathetically.
"It looked worse than it really is," the doctor informed Larry after cleaning and covering the wound, "it'll heal itself as long as you don't pick at it."
Larry put on his best heart winning smile.
"Sweeter words have never been spoken by a sweeter woman!"
"Is that really appropriate?" The doctor said, a little embarrassed, "After all…" she trailed off with a meaningful look at Phoenix who, after a moment of confusion, caught what she meant.
"We're not together." Phoenix hurriedly said.
"What, us? No way!" Larry joined in, having just caught up. "Are you sure you took the Hippocratic Oath?" he asked after a short pause.
"Of course I did!" The doctor said. She sounded somewhat offended. "Why?"
"'Cause you're breaking my heart, baby!"
Phoenix covered his eyes with a hand and sighed. That was the thing about Larry. He did things with such a direct sense of shamelessness that you ended up feeling embarrassed in his place. Phoenix wondered if it was too late to claim he didn't know him.
The doctor, making an amiable effort to remain professional, cleared her throat and lifted a syringe before filling it from a nearby vial.
"This will stop any outbreaks of rabies in your body if the dog was infected," she explained.
"Will it hurt?" Larry asked.
The doctor mumbled her next words, but Phoenix thought they sounded suspiciously like 'If I'm lucky.'
After the injection, the doctor told Larry he could go, and Phoenix dragged him from the room before he could deliver any parting shots to her.
He leaned against the reception desk and waited as Larry struggled to sign a form. He had offered to help, but Larry had insisted on doing it himself so as to 'retain his independence and not disappoint the ladies'. He had then winked at the bored looking female receptionist, who gave him a prolonged glare before returning to her crossword.
After signing the form Larry turned to leave, but turned back as the receptionist cleared her throat. Without looking up she slid a piece of paper along the desktop. It was Larry's bill. Larry looked at it with a frown, before turning to Phoenix.
"Nick…?"
Phoenix sighed and took the bill. First he paid for his and Larry's lunch, and now he was paying for the bloody dog's too.
