A/N: Warning! The following chapter contains Wocky Kitaki, which has been linked to severe cases of Wocky Madness- symptoms of which include, but are not limited to: sore neck, eye twitches, the urge to punch something, bouts of extreme rage upon hearing the letter "G" or the word "bizzoy", and a red handprint-shaped mark on the center of the forehead. If you experience any of the following symptoms, please consult your doctor immediately.
In all seriousness, this chapter was a blast for me to write and I hope you guys like it more than my spell check did.
Name: Wocky Kitaki
Vehicle: His Whip (A.k.a. a Mercedes-Benz, complete with 19" gold chrome alloy wheels and speakers loud enough to break every window in a five mile radius. It's gangsta, fo shizzle!)
Vehicle Armor: 3/5 (A G's got to have protection, both on the road and in the bedroom, but not too much if they want to maintain their rep, na mean?)
Vehicle Speed: 4/5 ("My whip's as fast as I am when pleasuring a shorty in the sack, fo shizzle!" … That's what Wocky wanted us to put as the description for his vehicle's speed. We tried to convince him that's not something to brag about and to choose something different, but he was persistent on having it. Hey, it's his reputation.)
Vehicle Handling: Tight (Wocky likes his whip like he likes his women: tight.)
Special Weapon: 4/5 (Rap Album- Whenever Wocky blares a cd containing his OG raps through his speakers, all the nearby drivers go mad and crash their vehicles. Wocky doesn't understand why this happens, but their lack of taste means an easy win for him.)
Bio: Yo, yo, yo! What up, homies? The name's Wocky Kitaki, and I'm gangsta! Word is the MC's straight-up hardcore and done time in the pen; but I ain't afraid. I'm a Kitaki, and we Kitakis step hard and fierce, na mean? My ma has a katana hidden in her broom and she takes TWO free samples instead of one when we go grocery shoppin'! That's right, my ma's straight-up gangsta; but she ain't nothin' compared to me, Wocky Kitaki- the most OG baller to ever live. And once I win this show, everyone on this blue marble's gonna know that, too, fo shizzle!
As Kristoph sits on his usual bench, waiting for the winner of Debauched Steel to claim their prize, he glowers down the road, his arms crossed and left eye twitching, as he hears what is probably intended to be music, but sounds more like a cat being beaten to death with a turntable, getting louder as he sees a Mercedes-Benz approaching him; the horrendous 'lyrics', if one could even call those incoherent phrases that, going as follows…
Yo yo, yooooo!
My name is Wocky,
OG in charge.
Roamin' round the hood with a homie,
Livin' large an' large.
Always bein' gangsta around the clock.
When bustas go around makin' fools of my boys,
I shoot 'em in the gut with my trusty glock.
When hoes get outta line, I break 'em like toys.
A'yo, a'yo, a'yo yo yo!
A'yo, a'yo, a'yo yo yo!
Dumped a ho named Alita,
Girl was all talk,
Personality stunk like rotten Velveeta.
My pops' always getting on my grill callin' me brash an' cocky,
But I just shrug my shoulders and say "I'm OG Wocky!"
A'yo, a'yo, a'yo yo yo!
A'yo, a'yo, a'yo yo yo!
A'yo, a'yo, a'yo yo yoooooooooooo!
"Wocky Kitaki is in the house, bizzoy!" The wannabe gangster yells at the top of his lungs as he jumps out of his vehicle, obnoxiously beatboxing as he walks towards Kristoph.
"Congratulations on your victory, Wocky Kitaki. As the winner of Debauched Steel you…" Kristoph growls as he notices that Wocky is not paying any attention to him, instead focusing on his beatboxing. "Wocky!" Kristoph snaps.
"Boop boop bop, boop-boop boop bop…" Wocky huffs, making more hand gestures than a deaf air traffic controller.
"Wocky!" Kristoph yells.
"Boo boo boo boooo-oooooo boodie boo boooooooooo…."
"Wocky!" Kristoph growls through clenched teeth, his patience clearly running out.
"Booooooo-oooooo, booooooo-oooooo, boo boo boo boo boo boo boo booooooo… boo-" Wocky is interrupted by Kristoph slapping him in the back of the head with a bottle of grape juice that he just spawned in. "Hey, man! What's your problem?! Messin with my sick beats like that!" Wocky snaps as he rubs the back of his head.
"For just that reason, your 'rap' and 'beatboxing' were sick, and by 'sick', I am referring to its proper definition which is to feel nauseous." Kristoph retorts.
Much to Kristoph confusion, Wocky starts rapidly spreading his arms out and crossing them across his chest, making the wannabe thug resemble a bird attempting to take flight.
"Yo man, don't go dissin' on what yo mind's missin'! You hearin' what I'm layin' down, bizzoy?!" The wannabe punk yells.
"Unfortunately, yes… as well as everyone in a four-state radius!" Kristoph wryly sneers.
Wocky puts his hands to his hips, leaning forward to make himself look assertive. "Hey, my rap was tight and that song I was beatboxin' was part of my childhood, fruit loop!"
Kristoph pushes his glasses up, partially covering his mouth. "And like you, it was obnoxious and migraine-inducing."
"You tryin' to fight me!? You tryin' to fight me!? I'm Wocky Kitaki! I'm so gangsta that I go out swimming less than an hour after I eat; I sometimes have a snack right before dinner; AND when I pass by a 'take a penny, leave a penny' tray, I take a penny without buying anything. So if you plan on stepping to me, you're gonna be getting my foot up yo ass!"
Kristoph brandishes his grape juice bottle. "'Step' to me, Wocky, and you'll be getting my grape juice bottle wedged into your skull."
"EH! You lost the right to call me by my first name when you went all up dissin' ma swag beats! So now you'll be referrin' to me by my gangsta name: OG Bling-Bing Crackshot! You! Understand! G-man!?" Wocky pokes Kristoph's chest with each punctuation, causing the host of Debauched Steel to snarl.
"Perhaps you don't understand what situation you're in, Wocky… If you don't make your wish in the next 30 seconds, I'll ram this bottle so far up your rectum that I'll be able to pull it out of your mouth!" Kristoph points the grape juice bottle at Wocky, his arm shaking with rage.
Wocky crosses his arms, his face sullen with defeat as his glance moves off to the side, away from the enraged ex-attorney.
"Whatever, homes. I'll play along; but not 'cause you told me to, but 'cause I ain't got time to waste on bustas like you…" Wocky puts his hands on his hips and leans forward as his temperament becomes more energetic. "I wanna be the most G OG baller to ever be in the G-game! I wanna be in a universe where I'm the most gangsta gangsta there ever was. You readin' me, G-man?"
"For once, I think that we're on the same page, Wocky." Kristoph sneers before raising his arms in the air, causing bolts of electricity to stream between his hands, emitting a blinding light.
When the light diminishes, Wocky finds himself in a completely silent space that is entirely black for as far as the eye can see, with nary a person or object for miles around.
"Yo, homes, where am I? This place ain't G!" Wocky complains as he scans his surroundings.
"I beg to differ, Wocky…" Kristoph telepathically tells Wocky. "This is Dimension W-11, a universe where wannabe gangsters like you are sent when they wish to be the most 'gangsta'."
"But there ain't nothing here!"
"Exactly. Well, have fun 'OG Bling-Bling Crackshot'…" Kristoph sneers.
"Hey! I ain't done with you, bizzoy! … G-man, you there? … Damnit!" Wocky stomps his foot. "Man, what now?"
Wocky hears a strange hip-hop song coming from the distance; sounding faint, but slowly growing louder as a man with frizzy white hair, a pair of golden sunglasses resting on his forehead, wearing a grey windbreaker with an undershirt underneath it, a thick gold chain with a large 'S' attached to it, grey pants, and white tennis shoes struts up to him.
"The hated boss who beats you down, and beats you down, and never lets up… Yeah. Big bad Guzma is here!" The man smugly states with his hands on his hips as he leans forward.
Wocky imitates Guzma by putting his hands on his own hips and leaning forward. "Man, you ain't tough! You some Doc Brown knockoff! Now why don't you get on back in your ugly-ass car-time machine and get outta here before I whop yo sorry ass!"
Guzma starts flashing enough hand signs to give even Wocky a run for his money. "Shut your stupid mouth, you dumb kid! You know who you're messing with? I'm destruction in human form- I'm ya boy Guzma!"
"Hey! I ain't your boy, bizzoy!" Wocky yells.
"Well, I ain't your bizzoy, dawg!" Guzma retorts.
"Oh, so you think I'm your dawg? 'Cause I ain't, G!"
"Look who's talking. I ain't your G, homes!"
"You ain't my homes, bitch!"
Guzma puffs out his chest. "Oh, so now I'm your bitch!? Well let me tell you something, kid, I ain't yo-" Guzma is interrupted by Wocky pulling out his gun and aiming it at the older thug.
"You are now, bitch! Get on the ground with yo hands over yo head or I'll pop a cap in yo ass!" Wocky yells.
Guzma laughs. "You really are dumb, kid…" The thug takes a baseball-sized red and white ball out of his pocket and throws it into the air, summoning a large grey and purple bipedal, hunched-over arthropod insectoid creature with two large arms to his side. "Golisopod, use First Impression!"
The creature rams Wocky with blinding speed, knocking the wannabe gangster to the ground before quickly returning to Guzma's side.
Wocky, being the persistent little bugger he is, doesn't hesitate to get back up on his feet and aim his gun at Golisopod. "You think that some overgrown bug'll keep a G like me down? I'm gan-"
"Sucker Punch, now!" Guzma orders, prompting Golisopod to rush over to Wocky and start repeatedly punching the wannabe punk, causing him to scream in pain before returning to its trainer's side and leaving Wocky lying on the ground battered and bruised- his injuries including a black eye, several lumps on the top of his head, and a few missing teeth.
Wocky, mustering all of his strength, slowly gets back on his feet, and with much effort and a shaky arm, aims his gun at Golisopod and fires three bullets at the creature, making sure to yell "Bang!" with each shot; but Wocky's attack proves useless as the bullets just bounce off Golisopod's thick shell, not even fazing the creature, which causes Guzma to let out a hearty chuckle.
"That was your attack? Ha! I've seen Farfetch'd do more with False Swipe. Now normally I'd just keep beating you down, and down, and down, but I'm feeling merciful today, so I'll just put you out of your misery. Golisopod…!" Guzma performs a strange dance. "Savage Spin-Out!"
Golisopod is surrounded by a yellow aura as it fires a stream of webbing out of its mandibles, engulfing Wocky in a sticky web cocoon. The large insect then follows up by using the string of web connecting its mandibles to Wocky's web cocoon to lift the wannabe gangster's prison into the air before slamming it hard into the ground, creating a small crater upon impact; then proceeding to throw the cocoon into the air again before ramming it at full-speed, causing it to shatter. Freed from his prison, Wocky, whose body has been mangled beyond belief, plummets to the ground, where upon landing, his limbs twitch, similar to that of a crushed insect, before becoming motionless as the life drains out of his body.
"Good job, Golisopod." Guzma calls Golisopod back to its pokeball before sauntering over to Wocky's corpse, grinning at his handiwork. "That's what happens when you mess with ya boy Guzma, you stupid kid! You get beat down!"
Meanwhile, back in the Ace Attorney universe, Kristoph laughs and shakes his head as he watches Guzma lording over Wocky's corpse in Dimension W-11 from a portable monitor before turning to face the camera.
"Remember, kids, no matter how good you think you are there's always a bigger fish… or in this case, a bigger bug." Kristoph sneers. "I'm Kristoph Gavin, and I thank you for watching Debauched Steel."
A/N: I would like to thank JordanPhoenix for submitting the idea for this chapter.