Disclaimer: According to this folding cube puzzle, I own the rights to the complete Professor Layton series, its characters, music, art, and plot!
I always did suck at the spatial puzzles…
Hershel Layton briskly walked through the charming village of Dropstone. His self-proclaimed apprentice, the curious boy Luke, followed behind him, along with the delicate Flora. The children seemed more interested in exploring the countryside, but there was a mystery at hands, one that required his utmost attention. He asked yet another resident, hoping luck would be on his side.
"Greetings, sir. I was wondering if I might be so bold as to enquire about a certain box?" The man replied no, turning him away. The people here sure could be secretive… he frowned, as a man in a nearby alleyway gestured for him to come over and greet him.
"You sellin'?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Shit man, you a dealer, or what?"
"I haven't the foggiest notion what you're asking me."
"Man, ain't noone go around with a hat that big if they ain't dealin' somthin'. You a pimp, right?"
Professor Layton and the Ghetto Pimp
Luke sniggered behind his back, as Layton quickly attempted to rectify the misunderstanding.
"Sir, I believe you are mistaken. I am an archaeologist on the trail of a mysterious box. I have never been, and hope I am never, a, well,-"
"Whateva, man. You ain't gonna sell to me, I git it." He slumped off, hands in his hoodie pockets.
As soon as the man was out of earshot, Luke and Flora burst into laughter once more, mortifying Layton.
"That is enough of that. We have a job to complete."
"We'd better do as he says, Flora. He might send one of his thugs after us, right quick!" Luke pretended to quiver in fear, making her laugh even harder.
"Settle down Luke, it's not that funny," he frowned even harder, as he began to try asking the townsfolk once more about the Elysian box.
"Excuse me Madam, I was wondering if I might borrow some of your time to enquire about a certain box?"
"It has his stash of cocaine in it!" hissed Luke, scaring the lady. Layton sighed, attempting to discipline the children.
"This has gone on long enough. That lady may have held valuable information, and now she won't give us the time of day."
"Anything you say, just please don't send me out on the streets! I don't want to be a hooker again!" cried Flora, hiding behind Luke (who incidentally, didn't mind the close contact with the older girl).
"My my, aren't we having a grand old time…," Layton tried to look away from the kids, only to notice the townspeople staring at them. The damage was done, and his enquiries would be much more difficult now… Professor Layton applied his palm to his forehead, a first for the gentleman, as he set about fixing the issue. The truth was this had happened before, quite a few times, to Luke's endless mirth. It seemed the sight of an old-fashioned gentlemen such as himself only conjured up images of ne'er do wells, and 'pimps' in today's modern world. Or, as Luke bluntly put it:
"You look like a right mean gangsta, professor."
Sighing, he decided to change his appearance, once and for all. Even without the hat, he gulped.
Okay, perhaps he might wear a small hat. Or even keep this one, if it he changed it a little. He liked that hat.
Upon hearing his decision, Flora beamed with delight, dragging him towards the most 'modern' looking shopping centre in Dropstone. She pouted when seeing the selection (it was a hick town still), but the offerings were still a tad too modern for Layton's taste.
"What isn't too modern for you?" asked Luke quizzically, eyebrow upraised.
"Anything made before the 1940's tends to please my eye," stated Layton honestly. For some reason, the children believed he was joking when he said that…
Layton was forced into the changing room, so hurried he hadn't seen what clothes Flora had thrust into his arms yet. Stepping out of the room, dressed in ludicrously baggy trackpants and a hooded jumper (or 'hoodie', as the tag insisted on calling it), he felt somewhat naked.
"Is this really what you want me to wear? I don't think a hat would even suit this ensemble…"
"'Course it would!" insisted Flora, ignoring Luke's muffled laughter. She thrust a beanie on his head, which fell over Layton's eyes when he tried blinking.
"Alright, back in there!" she demanded, trying several more outfits.
Layton took a fancy to a vest he had seen towards the back, but Flora found it annoying to try and co-ordinate with anything else they offered. Eventually, through a combination of clothes they both disagreed on (plus a variety of hats) Layton succeeded in trying on the whole store's worth, in a runway-esque fashion montage.
Eventually, he gave up, leaving the store in frustration. They had wasted far too much time, and now he was wearing something as ungentlemanly as sneakers in public. He woke Luke up, eager to carry on with other matters.
"Zuh? Hey, Professor! I thought of a real good 'un while you were in there!"
"A puzzle? Not now Luke," Layton checked his new digital wrist watch. He missed his pocket watch. It ticked.
"We're almost out of time, and have to catch the train. Come along, children."
"So, there's this train moving at sixty-six kilometres an hour, in an east-northern direction for the first eighteen percent of its journey, before making three changes in direction. It travels for a total of nine hours and fourty-three minutes, crossing nine chalk lines laid out on this map, see-"
"I said not now, Luke. Where's that bothersome Flora running off to this time?" Layton furrowed his brow in exasperation, as she spied yet another clothing store.
"Come along, we have to make the train." He went to pull Flora away by the hand, causing her to protest loudly at being 'stolen by some pedo-pimp'.
"Enough is enough young lady!" Layton admonished, finally beginning to lose his saint-like patience.
"…and the train slows down for three minutes each time it makes a stop, which is whenever it crosses two lines at once, on an intersection of these chalk lines. Knowing that it couldn't have started at any of these five points I've numbered, and that the this here is the seventh stop it makes-"
"Luke, I said now is not the time!" Layton admonished, Luke's chipper, hyper voice still explaining his puzzle at rapid speed in the background.
"Excuse me, sir, were you attempting to harm this young lady?" A police officer beckoned towards him. A competent, serious police officer he noted- nothing like the ones he usually encountered.
Adjusting his steel frame glasses, the officer approached Layton, ignoring his feeble-sounding excuses, such as, 'it's just a game they've been playing'. The train bellowed behind the officer, smoke shooting up into the air, when Layton decided to ignore the man in a most uncourteous way.
"Excuse me; I must be on that train!" he shouted, hopping over the ticket machine, clumsily in his new pants and shoes, as he abandoned Flora in town. Well, they could always catch up with her later, he reasoned. Maybe she would learn some manners, even. Not that he would hold his breath waiting.
He settled into the plush seat of the Montgomery Express, sighing at the sudden quiet, the train's starting noises the only thing he could hear. Smiling at his impulsiveness as Dropstone sped away, Layton felt himself finally starting to relax…
"…and the train's front carriage is blue, which is being driven by a colour blind man, so he can't notice any of the traffic signs along the way, which occur every three lines on the map, and won't stop for them. However, the other two trains do stop for them, and he can't hit any of these trains while moving around, and they both follow the following directions: north, east, south, east, west, east, west, north, north…"
"Luke, could you write this down, for later?" He looked up wearily at the boy, who appeared unable to stop, his head bobbing up and down as he continued reciting his Beowulf-like puzzle.
"So which path does the train take, and what speed does it have to take between the second and third stops, considering the type of coal it's running on and the passengers that weigh it down, as well as the wind resistance I mentioned, and the stops, and the zebra crossing on the side, and-"
"Luke. Shut up." And he promptly threw him out of the window.
THE END
A/N: I've always wanted to hear Layton say that to Luke xD Thanks for reading, and reviews are welcome, obviously enough *begging motion*.