Written for PW Kink Meme. Fairly G-rated, vaguely P/M. 3 chapters!
Just Desserts
"We're going to have to let you go…"
The Chrysanthemum Inn, scene of the crime.
How was I to anticipate a customer's sudden demand I play something as obscure as 'Happy Birthday'? So I made a little mistake, overreaction much?
That was a month ago… Well okay, more like seven months ago. We've been cutting costs since then. Not that there was already much left to cut.
"Your favourite! Spaghetti Bolognese a la tirchio." I present Trucy's early dinner with a flourish.
I still have my other job at the Borscht Bowl, but that's only two nights a week. The other nights, no one plays poker, so they use a CD.
"Daddy, this isn't spaghetti. These are Generic Brand Instant Noodles."
"Uh, heh heh. Creative cooking!"
Trucy suddenly beams chirpily to some subtle cue totally invisible to me. "Ooh, M.S.G. Flavour, my favourite! Thank you, Daddy!" She slurps away at the spaghetti sauce appreciatively for a few minutes. "Aren't you having any?"
"Nah, I'll eat later at the Borscht Bowl." (Well, drink actually…)
She shovels down a last noodle with a satisfied sigh. "Right, I'm done."
"There's ice cream for dessert," I wheedle. "But you have to finish that broccoli."
"But I hate broccoli."
"Then you have to finish HALF that broccoli."
"Okayyyyy." She forces it in with a grimace, then holds out her plate sweetly. I sidle into the kitchen before stuffing the rest down. That greenish mush is…. heavenly! Strange, I never used to like broccoli before. Guess being a parent makes you more open minded….
"Here's you ice cream." I hope she doesn't mind it's that cheap brand. The better one wasn't on sale this week. But I feel mean skimping on her food. Trucy makes way more per hour than I do. Main problem is, all her magic props cost so much, we don't seem to break even. But it doesn't matter. It's for her career development, and education is important! Think how much worse my life would be now if I hadn't studied that Law degree! …Oh, wait…
Ice cream consumed, Trucy's about to get up and prepare to leave for the Wonder Bar. "That's my star! Are you sure you aren't still hungry? You can have some more ice cream if you need to.."
"No, I'm fine, Daddy." That smile is too knowing. Damn it, what sort of kid refuses extra ice cream? And soon she's out the door.
I'd better leave too. My job at the Borscht Boredom doesn't start for another 3 and a half hours, but I remembered I'd better try and do the shopping. It's sale day at the fruit and vegetable market, and we're out of broccoli and… well, everything else as well. Something's got to be on sale at the supermarket! And I can't be late, if I lose that job as well, it'll be a disaster! It gives me staff discount grape juice, for one thing.
So I'm soon surveying the sweeping aisles of Super Turnip World. Last week they had a super sale on cabbages. It was a pretty good deal – they have a huge amount of leaves, and while they taste pretty boring, after a few leaves I felt sick, so then I stopped feeling hungry, and so I didn't mind dinner was over, so I didn't have to spend more money eating anything else! But for some reason they have now reverted back to their usual price. I can't imagine why anyone would ever buy them at that price!
All this week's specials seem to be on designer fruits and vegetables that are criminally expensive even when they're on sale. I suppose I'll just have to get Trucy's nutrient-rich broccoli and leave. …Hey, no, I'm NOT starving myself! I spend exactly the same amount on my food as I do on Trucy's, that's fair! Problem is, it all seems to go on grape juice for some reason. I've been trying to cut down on grape juice, but as the months have passed, I seem to have ended up drinking even more of it instead. And no way am I going to compromise Trucy's food supply because of my dysfunctional little habit! I'm a responsible parent, see?
One last chance. There's a rack at the back of the store, which has bags of old mouldy slime and caterpillars on super special, but occasionally they put out something edible by accident. I greet that sweet old lady I saw here last week too, I think she camps here all day! And that woman… It's like a club! Solidarity for us poor, special-seeking types, can't you feel the love…. Look, here comes a shop worker to the rack now with two fresh bags of… apples! I love apples! They look perfect, not even bruised or rotten! I grasp in salivating ecstasy…
as I lurch and double over in agony at a walking stick knifing my intestine in deadly accuracy, grit my teeth as I'm slammed in the groin and some little brat dives through my legs, but I refuse to give in and steadfastly lock my fingers around the plastic of the bag with an iron will! Victory!
I feel a sudden warmish moisture seep onto my foot. My eyes take in what I'm toting. I'm not sure what it is, but green slimy liquid is still oozing out of an airhole and onto my front. I hastily drop it with a squelch.
The old lady and woman with brat cart their pristine bags of discount perfect apples away, smirking. I have no recourse but to trudge back down the aisles, eyes downcast.
…Man, there's so much stuff here on the ground, under the shelves. And nothing wrong with most of it, shouldn't someone put it back, the bits which haven't been stepped in? There's a…peach! It only has a tiny little bruise! And an apple… And some cherries! And there's a blueberry, all by itself. It's so perfectly round and… and blue! I like blue! It reminds me of…
Oh, surely nobody will mind if I eat that one, miniscule, delicious abandoned blueberry? The only thing I've eaten so far today is some toothpaste! I reach down, but it's started rolling away just ahead from my eager grasp.
I lock my eye radar on my blueberry, in desperate pursuit, but a cruel bristling swipe of some sweep smashes it into a tragic purple stain and hurls it into a corner's putrid, sludge-filled skip, joining the corpse of the apple, the now irretrievably battered peach and all that other now-ex food.
"Fluffy will love these!"
I force my stuck eyes away from the trail of blueberry roadkill to the opposite site of the aisle. The sweeper atrocity hasn't reached here yet, there's a greenish carpet of assorted salad leaves, currently being collected by a small child and his mother.
"Who's Fluffy?" coos a charmed shop worker.
"My wabbit."
All those leaves… I wipe my mouth with a fist as saliva has actually started dribbling out the edge of it. I bet they'd taste amazing once they're lightly steamed with a sauce! And think of the texture, so different to sickly liquid and second-hand slop!
I tear off my own plastic bag and eye the shop assistant questioningly. I take a leaf, but there's no negative reaction.
"Fluffy is white and bwack."
The sweeping shop assistant has arrived. He hovers patiently, plastered with an indulgent face, until the kid's bag is full.
They're watching me, too, but they don't bat an eyelid, their expressions don't waver. Guess it's fine, then.
The kid hauls away his overfull bag. The remaining leaves are immediately scrawled up and unceremoniously dumped into the skip.
But I've already collated my own collection of stray leaves. This should make a delightful meal, lightly seared and consumed whilst still crispy! I choose a choice piece of broccoli for Trucy with care then present and pay for it at checkout.
"Bag check," she demands.
Uh oh. I present it in submission. Poker stance, Wright…
("These are for Fluffy!" I hear a joyous cry for the adjoining checkout. )
"Care to explain…. THIS?" Her fuming fist holds the leaf garbage bag aloft.
"Oh? That? That was just some old garbage being swept up, hope it's fine to take it…"
"Stealing. That looks like the Premium Salad and Premium Asian Greens Mix!"
"But they were on the floor. Look, here's the shoe print where someone stepped on one! They were about to be swept into the skip!" My wild gesticulations are crassly ignored.
"You're stealing the shop's property! ..Hey, wait! I remember you! You're that same shoplifter from last week!"
"OBJECTION! That wasn't me! It's a case of mistaken identity!"
"Don't you threaten me with threatening gestures! Do you know how much money we lose annually to societal filth like you? Right, this time I'm calling the police!"
"No! It wasn't me last week! I can prove it! With decisive e-evidence…"
"He's crazy," comments the adjacent shop server indiscreetly. My finger wilts. I suddenly feel supremely lonely. Now, what would Maya do here? Oh, she'd run away, end up in jail anyway and need me to rescue her…
"WAAAAH! The scary hobo's GLARING at me," sobs the Rabbit Kid. His mother enfolds him (and his leaves) and shoots me daggers of poison. I study my slime-smeared toes.
The police arrive, sirens blaring. They sure make a huge deal of it. Crowds ten deep are staring at me like some kind of primitive entertainment.
The cashier indignantly wafts Exhibit A in the policeman's face. "Shoplifting. Again. He did it last week as well!"
"It wasn't me last week! And I only took some garbage off the floor!"
"Can I have ID," the policeman commands. "Phoenix Wright. ….Hey. I remember YOU."
"See! Serial shoplifter!" The shop assistant smirks.
"No. It was fraud. Or was it treason?"
"It wasn't me shoplifting last time," I maintain with unflinching gaze.
"Well then. I'm afraid the fine for a first shoplifting offense is only $500." The policeman sneers. "I assume you can pay?"
###
W-Well! They won't kick me down that easy! I pull my hat down to my eyes. And he's watching them all in the Eye of the Phoenix! Time to go attack my job with renewed determination!
I'm ending up late for work anyway, because when I thought my feet were taking their habitual path, I somehow ended up standing outside Greaseway instead. That smell being pumped into the surrounding blocks must have confused me.
My heel turns in the correct direction, but my eyes are stuck. Those photos on the signs out the front look so delectable! And there's a new taste recipe with 20% extra trans fats.. FREE! What value!
But I can't get distracted now, I seem to be getting in the way anyway, at least according to the death glare of the woman that just charged out dragging a toddler clutching a Kiddie Value Meal. The brat upends his bucket of fries, but they continue on without so much as a backward glance.
Before I know what's happening, I observe myself lunging to the ground and stuffing my face. What the hell? What am I doing? Only now do I notice the crowds of people, who are eyeing me oddly, or start choking on the grit and traffic dust the fries fell in.
I wipe stray fry bits off my mouth with my sleeve and guardedly get to my feet. Nobody saw that, right? It d..didn't happen. I'm fine, yes, I reassert myself as I round the corner, to the proper entry this time.
Anyway, I don't need anything but grape juice to survive! Besides, one of Maya's magazines had this article about life extension with something they got out of grapes. The Phoenix is eternal! Just one more bottle and…
Strange, my hand's just grasping air. I'm forced to glance down to the usual place and
EMPTY SPACE.
W...what?
"Another crate of grape juice, please," I call to the bartender. I reach into the usual compartment in my wallet and…
EMPTY SPACE.
Oh. Oh, that's right. I used that money to pay the fine because there wasn't enough in the main part and.. "I'm sorry. You'll have to deduct it from my pay."
"Again? Why don't they just pay you in grape juice?"
(Oh, ha ha.)
It's okay, I soothe myself. Sure that fine tore a huge dent in the budget, but I had the forethought to stock up on a few emergency items when they were on sale before and store them in the fridge and freezer. Should last a month at least, nothing to worry about! I slam the keys with extra gusto and carefree emphasis!
"Will you play quieter?" the bartender soon demands. "We've had a customer complaint!" He flinches like scratched chalk. "And try not to make so many mistakes!"
(Yeah yeah.) "Okay, Sir." (Zzzzzzzz.)
###
I emerge, frazzled, from my three hour post-work couch crash, jolted by some kind of compressed nightmare…ugh, what a terrible day! And to whom can I admit I got done for shoplifting? How demeaning, even Larry would jeer in my face!
Wait, I know who…
"You were convicted for cleaning up some garbage? That's horrible!" Maya's distraught voice hauls through the phone. "You poor thing! But what am I going to do with you? Next time, STEAL SOMETHING WORTH TAKING! Agh!" The phone shakes in my palm as I practically feel her rain of sympathetic tears soak my ear.
"Why didn't you tell me you wanted leaves? I have a whole forest full of 'em!
…That's it! You need to come and stay with me for a while! Right now!"
"Um t-thanks Maya, but that won't be necessary, I kinda have to go to work tomorrow" (so I don't lose that job as well!) "and there's something else I'm supposed to do…" (though I can't for the life of me remember what it is.)
"Yeah, I know what you're supposed to do! Watch the special movie length Pink Princess episode tomorrow night!"
"Y-yeah." (That wasn't it!) A drafty ripple of unswept dust and part of last week's free newspaper collides with my foot. "Look, Trucy's just got home. I better go." (Damn it, how am I going to feed her tomorrow?)
"Okay. Say hi to Trucy for me."
"Daddy, did you remember to pay?'
"Huh?"
"For Magic Camp. It's starting tomorrow evening, remember?"
"Hey, when did I agree to this?"
"You didn't have to. It's a compulsory school activity!"
"I never did anything like that at school!" But it's probably true. Trucy got into this performing arts public school. Yeah, I thought it might help with some of the magic stuff, and it probably does, though she (I mean, I) still has to buy her own props and stuff…
…Wait, this is a fortuitous coincidence. While Trucy is on the camp, the camp will feed her, and I don't have to worry about paying for food! "Where's this thing to pay?"
Hang on. The cost per day of camp is.. um, I can't figure it out …but I know it's way more than it ever costs to look after her here!
"I'm sure you can use credit," Trucy beams.
###
Late Next Evening
Damn it, Trucy's only going to be gone a week. How can that punch such a hole in my mood? Already it's started pouring with rain, like a personal cloud to dump sorrows upon my bedraggled head. The hat has merely sogged like a slug. I dunno whether it'll do worse damage to take it off or leave it. I hope there isn't a t…thunderstorm… that once distant reverberating is descending on me with all too foreboding increases in speed and intensity!
SLASH!
It's seared the air diagonally in front of me, none of this 'thunder and lightning' thing, this is instantaneous. The static sky around me has warped into a series of electrified wires.
I stumble in a puddle. Lightning's not going to be fooled by my stalwart tactic, the poker face, so why bother. If you ask me, it just makes sense to be wary of lightning, once this guy I knew, Doug Swallow…
Don't panic. Let's just think l-logically and sensibly about this. 'Don't be the tallest thing because the lightning will hit you.' Right, I'll walk under those nice, tall trees! 'Don't stand under a tree, it will fall on you when the lightning hits it'. Damn, the other side of the street then? 'Don't stand under power lines, you'll get electrocuted'
Ah, forget it! Almost home, just got to climb up that huge hill. The flashing splits and tears the sky with a smash, I cower instinctively… no, it's fine, it hit up on top of that hill. Wait. I LIVE on top of that hill!
'Don't stand on the top of the hill, the lightning will hit the highest point.'
Did I mention I also live on the top floor?
###
I stand and drip relief behind the slammed door. The outside has turned into an electrified cage around my shoddy apartment, but there's walls between me and the storm surge now. The constant crashing jars me (this storm cloud has clearly decided to dump its lightning directly above) but really, what's the worst that could happen?
I turn my back on the window, wring out and respike my hair with audacity.
'It was a dark and stormy night'. Ha! Ha! Ha! I can't be beaten by anything so cliché! I'll just ignore it and do something productive. I'll cook myself some instant noodles, take a hot shower then work on my poker strategies.
Just as I've charged decisively into the kitchen, I feel though fail to hear a strange noise suddenly strangled from my throat. An explosion has engulfed the ceiling, the world subsumed by a hellish burst of light. Everything blinks along with me….then goes dark.
It's okay, Phoenix, I soothe myself, though I can barely hear myself think, there are no dead bodies here, not even mine! And after some heart-pounding minutes the storm hurtles away as rapidly as it descended, but the ensuing calm does not bring with it the return of light.
I get back to my feet, and throw a few switches to confirm the obvious.
I examine the instant noodle packet with my fingers, it being too dark to use my eyes. Can't boil water… I try crunching into a cold instant noodle but instantly vomit it out, those things are apparently inedible unprepared no matter how hungry I am. I move down the list.
Hot shower. Oh, that sounds good right about now, the chronic sogginess has made me cold.
I feel my way to the bathroom and turn on the streams of water, waiting patiently for the hot water to come on.
But it never comes. Oh yeah, water's heated by electricity, isn't it.
Who knows when the power will be on, could be hours, the entire district's out, judging by the desolation out the window.
There's nothing to do, too dark to see anything. I may as well just go to bed. I trudge into my little hovel of a room and fling myself limply onto the bed, letting my wet shoes slide languidly off. Damn this bed is cold! I'll just shut the window. And then it slugs me with its full, soggy force. I forgot to shut the window. A tsunami of storm spray obviously torrented into the place, my bed is soaked, I can vaguely see a pool of muddiness on the floor just discernible through cover of night…
Oh, this is too much. My mouth instantly pools for my crutch of sorts in a kind of Pavlovian response, I stagger off to my poor, silent fridge…
MY GRAPE JUICE!
In the electrocution, the glass bottles have melted! Or something. Whatever it is, the grape juice is ruined! And all the food in the fridge has already gone soggy and rotted with dead condensation. Who knew it could happen so quick?
No, things can't get any worse. I'll just go and sleep away the bad feelings, at least there should be light when I wake again. I salvage a few towels and hope I'll drop off before they soak through.
My reddened scratchy eyes emerge to the hideous, dripping dawn. Still no electricity. The street lights seem to be back on, a little investigation out the window reveals some neighbouring buildings seem to have power again. But here, dead. Maybe I should look at the electricity controls for the building, I admit I'm clueless, but maybe there's a button you press, Power On? Some of the other tenants have had the same idea. But it's hopeless, the entire fuse box blew up or something when the lightning hit our building. An electrician is coming, eventually. Too late for my fridge though. And my grape juice. And sleeping in that wet bed ruined my hair, can things get any worse? My pocket's jarred by the dulcet tones of my phone, good thing that uses batteries…
"Hi, Nick! How are you?"
"Bad."
"Oh. Um.. hey, did you watch Pink Princess last night like you promised you would?"
"No. There was a blackout. And the fridge is ruined. And the place is soaked. And I'm all wet," I whine.
"Nick!" Maya sounds genuinely distressed. "Are you okay? Do I need to come over?"
Great, I've made her worry. "I'm fine, I'm fine…."
"But you said things were 'bad'! How's Trucy holding up?"
"Trucy went away on Magic Camp," I explain. Don't feel abandoned… Don't feel abandoned…
"You're all alone with nobody to look after you? Oh no!" Maya exclaims. "That's it. You're coming over here RIGHT NOW."
And what do I have to look forward to if I don't? Mopping the floor and feeling sorry for myself? "Great! Can I come right now?"
"Yes! Of course! Oh, I'm so excited!" enthuses Maya with genuine happiness. Oh, it's nice to be appreciated! I just hope she doesn't anticipate me bringing burgers or something…