Disclaimer: All material used in this fanfiction belongs to its respective owner(s) and I am not associated with them in any way, shape, or form. I, the writer of this fanfic, claim none of it as my own in this non-profit, non-canon fanfic.

A/N: What better way to celebrate the holiday season, a time for family bonding, than by starting a story involving the one and only family vacation taken by the von Karma family? Anyways, like with the last von Karma family story I wrote, this will be a flashback fanfic so the ages will be much younger. For the sake of convenience, at the beginning of a chapter I'll list the ages of the characters that are first introduced in the chapter.

Manfred: 57 years-old

Franziska: 9 years-old

Blaise: 57 years-old

With that, I hope that you enjoy the first chapter of The von Karma Family Beach Trip.


Manfred always despised the foolish 'holiday' known as Take Your Child to Work Day. Children belonged in school, learning the skills needed for life, not running around the Prosecutor's Office, screaming like they're at a playground and touching things with their sticky hands. How every child except Edgeworth and Franziska always had such sticky hands always baffled the legendary prosecutor.

However, despite how much Manfred loathed the 'holiday' and fought against it, the Chief Prosecutor, Blaise Debeste, made it a requirement for every prosecutor with a child to bring them to the Prosecutor's Office so that they could 'learn about the inner machinations of this great nation's complex and highly-nuance Justice System'. But Manfred knew the real reason behind Blaise's actions- the sadistic Chief Prosecutor only did this as a way to rile him up and get a sick laugh at his expense. It may have sounded egotistical, but how else could one explain why the man who despised his own son with a burning would put an emphasis on day dedicated to family, including a mandatory picnic at the nearby park, complete with carnival-style games?

But Manfred wouldn't let his demented superior have the last laugh. He wouldn't be bested by some unfashionable man who wears copious amounts of tight leather and foolishly wears his prosecutor's badge on his lapel. No, Manfred wasn't going to put up with this nonsense, so while he did bring Franziska to the Prosecutor's Office- because unlike these other foolish children who were busy picking their noses and eating them, his perfect daughter was set to take the Bar Exam and become a prosecutor herself in a few short years and thus needed to see the workings of the Prosecutor's Office- he did not sign them up for any of Debeste's foolish games and sent the Chief Prosecutor a sternly-worded letter voicing his disapproval.

And thus how Manfred found himself spending valuable time that he could be devoting to creating yet another flawless case for one of his next trials sitting in Blaise Debeste's abomination of an office that served as a shrine to the Chief Prosecutor's childhood dream of being a 60's motorcycle gang leader- complete with tire spokes nailed to the walls like picture frames, a glass case containing a mannequin wearing an original 1966 mint-condition Bandidos leather jacket, and a large black pirate flag hanged on the wall behind his bright red leather chair.

As Manfred sat in a smaller red leather chair across from Blaise, he couldn't help but breathe an irritated sigh and roll his eyes upon seeing his superior's eyes fill with crocodile tears as the lanky man read over the former's letter.

"Y'know, von Karma… This letter… It really hurts me, y'know! I treat you with nothing but respect and kindness over the years and this is how you repay me? By calling me, and I quote, 'a fool who is as hypocritical as he is unfashionable?' It's enough to bring a tear to my eye, y'know…" Blaise whimpered, tugging at his beard with his free hand before taking his lighter and burning the letter to ashes.

"Don't waste your tears, Debeste. I've known you for far too long for them to have any effect on me." Manfred said curtly, grabbing at his sleeve. "In regards to that sentence, if you are indeed not a hypocrite, then why would you, the man who tried, and failed, to ship his son off to Siberia in a cardboard box-"

"That wasn't my fault, y'know! Sebastian's tears soaked and broke through the cardboard, y'see!" Blaise growled as the flame from his lighter flared up.

"As I was saying, if you aren't hypocritical, then explain why a man who hates his only son would require all prosecutors with families to participate in this foolish holiday?"

Blaise started playing with his lighter. "Y'know, I never denied the fact that I'm a hypocrite, von Karma; but even if I did, who are you to throw stones from a glass house?"

"And what is that supposed to mean."

"Nothing. Just before you start calling people unfashionable, maybe you should take a good look in mirror. But then again, based on your fashion choices, you probably wouldn't see anything." Blaise sneered.

"And just what is that supposed to mean, Debeste?" Manfred slowly, yet sternly, asked.

"You heard me, von Karma! Y'see, you constantly scorn me for my choice of outfit and how I wear my prosecutor's badge on my lapel- y'know, like how you're supposed to- yet here you are, dressed like you robbed Dracula's closet, strutting around with that fruity napkin-thing of yours, doling out fashion advice like you're Liberace!" Blaise yelled.

"One, it is not a 'fruity napkin-thing', it is a cravat, you bone-headed buffoon." Manfred huffed. "And second, my outfit is incredibly fashionable."

"Y'know, von Karma, that outfit when have been fashionable when James Polk was president back in 1845, but last I checked, we were in the 21st Century. Y'see, we've made many considerable changes since then- one of which includes inventing disposable napkins so we don't have to carry one around with us at all the time, y'know?." Blaise commented.

"Bah! You just can't appreciate the sophistication and class that a cravat brings."

"Here we go again…" Blaise groaned, rolling his eyes.

Manfred cocked his head in confusion. "'Again?' To what is that referring to?"

"That cockney attitude of yours, Manfred. Y'see, ever since you, Damon, and I were kids, you always had that snobby, holier-than-thou attitude; and whenever we wanted to do anything fun, you were right there to put the kibosh on it." Blaise started crying and tugging on his beard. "'Blaise, don't put salt in Ms. Oldbag's coffee!' 'Blaise, don't roll that fat Grossberg kid down that hill!' 'Blaise, don't go around stealing girls' panties!' 'Blaise, focus more on your studies or you won't succeed in life!'"

"It is not my fault that I had to be the responsible one in the group to clean up after your and Gant's messes." Manfred snapped his fingers. "You should be thanking me, for without my help, you would have both been nothing!"

"Right Manfred, because I sure as heck made Chief Prosecutor by knowing the structure of a cell and what a conjunction is."

"No, you only became Chief Prosecutor because I turned down the position due to the fact that a perfect prosecutor belongs in the courtroom, not behind a desk getting complacent and fat. You merely licked up the scraps that fell from my table of glory!" Manfred retorted.

"Oh, you're perfect?" Blaise rhetorically asked as he started playing with his lighter. "Because a certain little penalty from December 28th, 2001, says differently, y'know."

"That penalty does not count! Gregory Edgeworth was a sore loser and was merely grasping at straws!" Manfred retorted.

"That doesn't change the fact that that trial went on for an entire year, y'know?"

"That's because Edgeworth was too stupid to just lie down and accept his inevitable defeat."

A large grin spread across Blaise's face. "Y'know, if I was handling that trial, I would have had that guilty verdict bagged by the end of that first day with my awe-inspiring courtroom strategy: Operation Have-the-Hopeless-Defendant-Accept-a-Plea-Bargain-and-then-Turn-on-Them-and-Get-Them-a-Life-Sentence! It was so simple that it was brilliant, y'see? Just act friendly to the defendant, make them feel like you wanna help them, get them to tell you some confession- complete with method, motive, etc.- and then use it to get them a full conviction. Not only would I get a guilty verdict in no time flat, but I'd also get a good laugh at seeing the stupid, dumbfounded looks on the faces of both the defendant and their attorney, y'see." Blaise chuckled. "… I truly am the best."

"Bah! Any prosecutor worth their salt could use that pathetic strategy. A real prosecutor gets the job done by breaking the defendant's spirit during interrogation and then crushing their attorney's foolish argument into oblivion with decisive evidence and a decisive witness."

Blaise started playing with his lighter. "Tomato, tomatoe. Everyone's different and has their own preferences, y'know. Some people like chunky peanut butter while other like creamy; some people work better at night while others work best during the morning; and some people prefer to dress as a cool biker who plays by his own rules while others would rather dress like dead presidents. That's right, Manfred, this may come off as a shock to you, considering your ego-inflated head could be used as a float in the Macy's Day Parade, but your opinion isn't the only one that matters and people are allowed to think differently from you. That's one of the lessons that we want to teach the kids by showing them how their parents interact with others in the workplace, y'see."

Manfred rolled his eyes. "Oh, like your parents' were great role models in terms of career choices? A father who worked as a floundering defense attorney and a mother who sent more men to the free clinic than a flu outbreak?"

"My mother was an escort, not a call girl! Big difference, y'know!" Blaise yelled. "Say what you will about my pops and ma, at least they had jobs, unlike your parents who would spend all day sitting on your lawn, 'protesting the Man', before running off and starting a commune when we were 16!"

"Do you think that bothers me? It was because of those deadbeat parents of mine that I strove to become perfect. I respected them as much as your mother respected Gant and my personal space with how she constantly tried to give us massages whenever we'd go to your house." "Manfred said with a wry smile.

A large pillar of flame erupted from Blaise's lighter as he glowered at Manfred. "Y'know Manfred, you're starting to make me mad, and as y'know, when I'm mad, people start to disappear! You wanna disappear, von Karma!?"

"Bah!" Manfred sneered. "Like your little threats scare me. You would never get rid of me because if you did, you'd have to replace me with another prosecutor- one who could do a little snooping and uncover some rather unsavory details regarding you that I've kept under wraps in exchange for you doing the same for me."

Von Karma was right; Blaise had it too good with Manfred. Sure, the guy may have had the social skills of a walnut, but he was predictable and easily bribed with the prospect of unimpeded victory. That, and the Prosecutor's office would be a whole lot less fun without Manfred there to bully. But Manfred had to pay for that buffoon remark, as well as those comments about his promiscuous mother. It was the very definition of a paradox- to punish von Karma without truly punishing him; but within that paradox, an idea came into Blaise's mind- a deviously wicked idea for a punishment so fitting for von Karma that he'd have the 'perfect' prosecutor begging for death.

Blaise started playing with his lighter. "Y'know, von Karma, I think it would be a good idea not to have the family picnic today."

"I'm glad that you've finally wised up and are seeing things my way and have chosen to cancel that foolish outing." Manfred said with a smug grin. However, his grin so disappeared when Blaise flashed him one of his own.

"Oh, I'm not canceling it. Y'see von Karma, we have to celebrate Take Your Child to Work Day because if we don't, people will complain that their kids aren't able to learn from their jobs and will start protesting, causing a backlog in cases. That's why I'm going to postpone the picnic until tomorrow when you're not here to ruin their fun with your snobbery."

"'When I'm not here?' What kind of foolish nonsense is that? As the perfect prosecutor, I am always present." Manfred gloated.

"Not if you're taking a vacation, you aren't."

"I do not do vacations. I have taken but a single vacation during the course of my illustrious career and that number shan't double."

"Y'know, von Karma, I can respect that. But just so you know, when you're at the family picnic with little Franziska and Miles, I'll break the ice by telling everyone there about that little incident at Gant's slumber party when we were 12." Blaise sneered as Manfred flinched in shock, a look of terror filling his normally cold, emotionless gaze.

"You wouldn't dare…" Manfred said in a shaky voice, crossing his arms tightly against his chest as he broke out into a cold sweat.

"What? It's not that embarrassing…" Blaise snickered. "Once when you, Gant, and I were 12, we were at slumber party at Gant's house when Gant wanted to put on a scary movie-"

"I yield! I yield! Fine! I will take a vacation, but what do you expect me to do with-"

At that moment, Manfred was interrupted by Franziska barging into the office and running over to him, an impatient frown formed on the young girl's face as she stared up at her father with big grey eyes.

"Papa, what's taking you so long? You said that you'd be in here for just five minutes and then we'd go down to the Precinct to pick up that autopsy report; but according to my watch, which operates perfectly, you've been in here for ten." The young girl pouted, earning her a fierce glare from her father- a glare that often signified a rather shocking outcome when they returned home.

Manfred snapped his fingers, causing Franziska's posture to straighten and her eyes to widen. "Foolish child! Can't you see that I'm currently talking with Chief Prosecutor Debeste?" Manfred gruffly stated, prompting his daughter to shift her gaze over to Blaise, who gave her a smile and a wave.

"Sorry for upsetting you, little von Karma. I was talking with your pops and I lost track of time, y'see."

"It's okay, Unky Boo Boo!" Franziska chirped as she ran over to Blaise and jumped on his lap, much to Manfred's disdain.

"Franziska von Karma, this is hardly appropriate! Get off of Chief Prosecutor Debeste's lap this instant!" Manfred ordered with a snap of his fingers.

"Y'know von Karma, you don't have to treat me like I'm some sort of stranger." Blaise whimpered as he started to cry. "I'm not bothered in the slightest that your lovely daughter decided to sit on my lap, y'see. So little von Karma, how's your day been going? Enjoying seeing your pop's daily grind?" Blaise cheerfully asked as he ruffled Franziska's hair.

"It's been a very productive learning session for me, Unky Boo Boo! I saw how Papa plans investigations, how he comes up with what information he wants decisive witnesses to leave out of their testimonies, and how he yelled at one detective so badly that he made the fool cry! With this knowledge, I'm going to be a perfect prosecutor just like Papa and get every fool that crosses my path a guilty verdict, no matter what!" Franziska cheerfully proclaimed with her hands on her hips.

"I'm sure you will, little von Karma. I'm sure you will…" Blaise chuckled.

"Wanna hear about the rest of my week, Unky Boo Boo? Well, on Monday, Miles Edgeworth foolishly chose to sleep in a whole minute later than normal!" Franziska proclaimed as if it was the end of the world.

"An entire minute!?" Blaise asked with fake shock in his voice. "So what'd you do about it?"

"Well, when I saw this atrocity, I marched right into his bedroom and yelled 'Wake up, you foolishly foolish fool!' as loud as I could in his ear. You should have seen it, Unky Boo Boo! Miles Edgeworth screamed like a little girl as he sprung out of his bed, allowing me to…" Franziska cracked her riding crop. "Whip his back several times with my trusty riding crop as I chased him out into the hall!"

"My, my. That's quite a story. So, did anything else happen?" Blaise asked.

"Hmm…" Franziska taped her chin in contemplation.

Manfred snapped his fingers, returning his daughter and the Chief Prosecutor's attention to him. "As much as I love to hear small talk, I would very much like to return to the topic at hand."

"Whatever you say, von Karma. It's your world; we just live in it… Anyways, if you're worried about what to do with Miles and Franziska, then why don't you three take a trip down to the Ocean? Y'see, I have a nice beach house down there that I'd be more than happy to let the three of you use."

"Thanks, but no thanks, sir. If I were to take a vacation, the last place that I'd want to go is a beach." Manfred coldly stated.

"Papa, Unky Boo Boo just gave you a suggestion! Therefore, you must heed it!" Franziska objected.

"Exactly Franziska, it was just that- a suggestion. Therefore, I am not obligated to comply with it."

"But Papa, haven't you always told me and Miles Edgeworth that the only two people who can tell a von Karma what to do are the Chief Prosecutor and Santa?

Manfred flinched, shocked at having his own perfect advice backfire on him in such a fashion. "Yes, but-"

"No 'buts', Papa! You've also told us time and time again of how a von Karma must be a perfect model of civility by having a perfectly clean legal record. So, since laws are rules, and rules are things that people tell us what to do, then by that logic, we have no choice but to go to Unky Boo Boo's beach house or risk the integrity of the von Karma name!"

"Well, Franziska, while your points can be seen as valid, your worries about us compromising the family name by declining Chief Prosecutor Debeste are unwarranted. For you see, we can break any rules that we see as foolish with proper suppression and deceit."

"But Papa! This is Unky Boo Boo we're talking about!" Franziska yelled as she gestured to Blaise, who couldn't help but snicker at how the dreaded Manfred von Karma was being outmatched by a nine year-old girl. "The man who you always complain about being able to create his own truths! With that kind of power at his disposal, any kind of deceit on our part would be pointless!"

"She's right, y'know. So von Karma, are you going to take me up on my offer?" Blaise asked.

"Fine." Manfred grumbled through gritted teeth.

"Good, good. Well, here's a key and the deed to the house." Blaise said as he handed Manfred an envelope and a sheet of paper. "And knowing you, you probably don't own any beach furniture, so feel free to use the chairs in the house's garage. Anyways, I said all that I needed to say, so you're both free to go. Have fun with that autopsy report, little von Karma!"

"I will, Unky Boo Boo!" Franziska cheerfully replied as she scurried out of the office as Manfred, with slumped shoulders and clenched fists, slowly followed his daughter while mumbling something under his breath.

"And Manfred…"

Manfred stopped and slowly turned his head to look Blaise in the eye, shooting the Chief Prosecutor a scowl that could kill. "What?"

"Have fun!" Blaise sneered.

And with one final huff, Manfred stormed out of the office, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. After waiting a few seconds to make sure that his 'perfect' subordinate was out of hearing range, Blaise pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number; and after waiting a few seconds, the Chief Prosecutor was greeted to an all-too familiar "Hey, Blaisie!

"Hey Damon." Blaise replied.

"So why are you calling! Oh! Are you scheduling an impromptu swimming session! Hmm… As tempting as that is, I have a lot of paperwork at the moment, so could we schedule it for this evening?"

"It's not that. Y'know the plan that I told you about this morning regarding Manfred?"

"The one where you get Karmamel to go down to your beach house tomorrow?"

"The very same. Y'see, it worked like a charm and Manfred's going to be spending the whole day at the Ocean." A large grin spread across Blaise's face. "So y'know what you've got to do…"


A/N: When I was first doing research on the "Ace Attorney' cast's ages a while back and I saw that Manfred, Damon, and Blaise were all the exact same age, I couldn't help but imagine them being childhood friends, much like how Phoenix, Larry, and Edgeworth are; a thought that was further enforced by the fact that both trios share the same color scheme in regards to their outfits- Phoenix and Manfred with blue, Larry and Gant with orange, and Edgeworth and Blaise with red.

As for backstories regarding their childhoods, I don't want to get too into it due to the fact that I'll probably cover that in a future fanfic; but as a basic summary, I imagine a young Manfred, anti-social and friendless, having just immigrated to the U.S. from Germany and going to Kindergarten where none of the other kids wanted to be his friend. His teacher, Ms. Oldbag (whether or not she's the same Oldbag as the one we see in the games will be addressed later in this story), seeing this, paired him up with the two other kids in the class that no one wanted to be friends with: the mischievous rebel rouser Blaise and Gant, who scared the other kids with that infamous death stare of his. Thus, from that moment on, the three of them formed an Ed, Edd n Eddy- esque trio- with Blaise as the twisted leader that the other two were only friends with out of convenience, Manfred who served as the mature, responsible one, and Gant who was the loveable, upbeat goofball- until Manfred decided to study abroad in Germany to become a prosecutor. That's why in this chapter Manfred and Blaise have a rather casual, more emotional interaction than one would normally expect from the two of them.

I know that this scenario is kind of farfetched, but considering how all three of them became some of the most demented villains in the series, them being long-time childhood friends is too good to pass up.