Summary:
Miles and Phoenix, now successfully evaded White, return to the Edgeworth's Law Offices. Miles tries to pull information from Phoenix, but he learns that it was a task easier said than done.
Reunion
Thursday August 11th 2016 – 7:46 PM
Once Phoenix and Miles reached the downtown center of crowded pubs, Phoenix waved off their temporary companions. Now alone, they walked down the pubs and stopped at a crosswalk. Miles caught his breath some time ago. Now he wanted answers. "Phoenix?"
"Yes?" Phoenix met Miles eyes as they waited near the street's intersection.
Miles could not formulate a coherent thought, much less articulate anything comprehensible. Perhaps Phoenix was right – maybe Miles was a stuttering fool. "I . . . I just have so much to ask you about . . ."
"And yet, can't think of a single thing to say, can you? Well, you had a run-in with someone who would've killed you. These things happen."
Miles shook his head, "You make it sound as if this happens on a frequent basis."
"You have no idea. The novelty of it dies down after about the third time someone threatens to kill you."
"Third?"
"I am just lucky you aren't out for blood!" Phoenix did find an unusual amount of humor in their encounter with White. He also never showed an ounce of fear.
"Normally, I prefer meeting friends over tea," Miles retorted, alluding to the abnormality in what Phoenix just described.
"Oh, that I believe," Phoenix laughed, "You're still the same as before."
"Is that so? You are quite different." Miles observed. There was an odd energetic charisma to Phoenix, and it came across as a bit eccentric. Par for the course.
"Really? Hmm." Phoenix stared at Miles in a daydream like haze.
"Is something the matter?" Miles asked as Phoenix inspected him.
"Now I'm at a loss for words. I haven't really had a good chance to look at you yet. I knew you'd be handsome, but what I didn't realize is . . ." he trailed off.
"H-Handsome?" Miles suddenly felt very strange and especially did not envision such a remark from Phoenix.
"You're very . . .erm. Pretty. Yes. you have very pretty features. It's distracting. Oh, but in a good way."
"Pretty?" Phoenix could not really be instigating a romantic fondness, could he?
Phoenix raised their still joined hands. Somehow, Miles missed the fact that they were still interlocked in all the shock and excitement. "How – How long have we been –!?"
"Since we made it to the trail. Your hands are very soft, by the way. Oh. And manicured, huh? I bet you're kinda high maintenance, aren't you?"
Miles forcibly pulled away his hand and argued, "Just because I take care of my hygiene and skincare does not mean I am 'high maintenance'. What does that even mean?"
"I don't mind either way. I actually have preference for – oh!" Phoenix stopped mid-sentence, then pointed at the people staring at them in the outdoor tables, "And yes. They think we're together, love. So did our travel buddies, for what it's worth. Just act natural."
Miles felt his euphoria from earlier decline with something ominous taking its place. Indeed, they were drawing unwanted attention from a crowd.
"I'd love to take you to tea, dear. But I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule. I think it's a good time to regroup. Yeah?"
"Regroup?" Miles felt a hint of annoyance. "How can we possible regroup when you have been actively avoiding me for months?"
"'Avoiding' isn't the word I'd use . . ." Phoenix shifted his gaze.
"And what is the word you would use, then?" An unusual undertone took Miles' voice, but Phoenix shrugged it off.
". . . 'Evading'."
"Those are exactly the same thing!"
"Are you done yet?"
Miles stared at Phoenix, growing ever more provoked. How dare you! He thought, but yelled instead, "Not in the slightest!"
"When White matches that red car to your identity – who you are, where you live, and where you work – he's going to retaliate. You and your father are both in very real danger now. Call him to set up a meeting spot."
Miles, still seething, saw Phoenix's point and followed his instructions by calling the offices after returning Phoenix's phone and retrieving his own. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.
"Edgeworth speaking."
"Father," Miles felt himself smile. How reassuring it was to hear him after that mess of an evening. "Please stay at the offices. I need to talk to you in person."
"Is something wrong?" Leave it to Gregory to pick up on subtle distress.
"I am fine. I will be there soon with a . . ." How did he want to describe Phoenix? His father found multiple ways to scrutinize Phoenix (and for good reason), but Miles could not afford to argue with White still after them. "A guest. I will explain once I get there." Phoenix did something on his own phone before pocketing it.
"A guest?" Gregory asked, bringing Miles back to his phone conversation.
"Someone who could help us with the Frost case." Not a lie, not the full truth – but they needed to hurry. He's rubbing off on me in the worst possible way. Miles eyed Phoenix harshly.
Gregory worried still, "If you're in immediate danger, call the police. Where are you?"
. . . If Phoenix told the truth, the police would not be my ally at this time.
"Downtown. I will be at the offices shortly." Miles needed to end the call and figure out how to travel efficiently, seeing how he lost access to his car. If nothing else, Miles wanted to make White regret damaging his beloved vehicle.
"Be careful, Miles. Call for help if you need it." Gregory reiterated.
Miles ensured, "I will. See you soon."
"Law offices, then?" Phoenix pocketed his phone and knelt down by Missile. "You can give that back now. You've done well!" Missile released the ghost and barked happily. Phoenix held that ghost plush by its triangular shaped arm.
"Yes," The ghost plush distracted Miles. Why carry such an absurd item? Why take it from the house?
"How long would it take to walk?" Phoenix absent-mindedly looked at the watch on his wrist.
"It's a 15-minute drive from here," Miles answered.
"Too long, then," Phoenix raised his arm at a passing taxing.
"Phoenix? Are you sure it's okay to take that?" He gestured toward the ghost. Too late to return it, I suppose.
Phoenix caught the attention of a taxi and it parked near them for boarding. "Yeah? Why wouldn't it be?" Phoenix opened the door and then had a look on his face like he realized something. "Who told you about Verrier?"
"I – learned about it through a business card. Also, Larry's release papers. That name showed up a few times and I thought it was worth checking into." Miles answered, then entered the taxi after Phoenix gestured it. Missile hopped into the center seat.
The driver looked over his shoulder and said, "That mutt ain't allowed." Missile growled in response.
"Excuse you?" Miles went cross. Phoenix had to dispel the tension with a little help from green paper. A bribe. . .
"How's about an extra tip for the dog?"
The driver simply asked, "Where you headed?"
Miles begrudgingly gave the directions and the taxi took off. Phoenix rolled down his window and made a twisted face when the car drove forward.
"Motion sickness," He claimed, then confirmed his own knowledge on the case for defending Frost. "How is Frost. She is your client, correct?" He did not look at Miles per se but focused on Missile when looking toward him.
"Yes. How do you know that I am taking her defense?" Miles answered.
"You followed your father into law after all. I'm happy for you."
. . . And your father . . . Did you follow him into crime? No, I think not. You are a private investigator and Miss Frost's partner, both looking to imprudently take down Bluecorp through your own means.
Phoenix asked, "Do you enjoy it? Is it what you expected?"
The question gave Miles pause. "I suppose I never thought about it like that before. However, I cannot picture a different path for myself." Miles answered.
"And it's a good one for you. I think."
"And what about you?" Now the conversation seemed to speed up, "What is it that you 'do', Phoenix?"
"Oh, you know," Phoenix pulled at the ghost's comical little arms, "I get myself into troublesome situations like this. A lot."
"Why are you deflecting my questions?"
"It's been a day. I'm sure you can relate. Well, anyway, I'd rather talk about something else for now. Or do nothing." Phoenix window gazed.
"Can we really afford to be so laid back?" Miles asked, attempting a different approach.
"We'll get the chance to hash all those details in a bit. I just wanna pretend like everything's peachy for five minutes, okay?"
"Well, the situation is not 'peachy' as you say, and we need to start preparing."
"And we will. After we take some 'me' time. 'We' time? 'Us' time?" Phoenix pondered it for a moment, then said, "Just five minutes. That's all I'm asking for."
Miles exhaled. I am negotiating with a man-child. He asked, "Then what is it you do want to talk about?"
"I'd hope to talk about something pleasant. It's been a decade and some change since we last saw each other, after all."
Again, Miles could not help but feel slighted by Phoenix. "Why did you not tell us you were home? Why did you never once stop by in the time you have been back?"
"Oh boy. I hit a sore spot – you're all serious now . . ."
"A sore spot? You have some nerve, Wright."
"Ah! To the last name addressing!" Phoenix threw his hands up.
"Leaving some peculiar paper trails behind is no way to treat someone, Wright. You have been stringing me along on whatever it is you are actually doing and I want answers."
"And here I was surprised you didn't learn everything you needed to, Edgeworth, considering you've been lax on personal boundaries lately."
"Says the one who bugged my car!"
"So you didn't sneak up on me again! You almost had me a few times."
"Oh. Right. You and your theatrics, Wright. I should have realized that whole 'play' you set up for me was an act – it was terrible and hardly believable!"
"And you fell for it like a sucker!" Phoenix sniggered, then raised his voice, "Eh, Mr. Edgeworth?"
"What, are you Canadian now?"
"French Canadian. Although, being called a Frenchman is wrong. I took one of those ancestral tests – I don't even have a percentage of French blood. Something like point zero zero zero zero one percent."
"Verrier is also French, I thought. Was it something that Larry said?" Miles closed his eyes, trying to think on Larry's wording.
"Back to this? I just said I wasn't French, were you listening? Oh well. . . And here I was, hoping to continue flirting. Shame." Phoenix shrugged, ending one argument and nearly starting a new one.
"Flirting?" Miles repeated. There was that strange notion again. "And who were you flirting with?"
"Well, my current company is you, Missile, and the cab driver. I'll let you work out who I'm talking about."
The driver gave them a dirty look through the rearview mirror. Miles deduced perfectly who Phoenix meant, but had very little interest in pursuing it, "Please tell me you are not Larry levels of insufferable."
"How rude. That comparison is completely uncalled for. If you don't like it, I will stop. But I'll be damned if I pretend you aren't exactly my type."
"Excuse me?" Miles felt a burst of heat. Phoenix was sincerely admitting attraction without a hint of shame.
"By that face I'd say it's unwelcomed. So, friends, then?"
"I . . . I did not realize anything else was on the table?" What was Miles supposed to say to that?
"For you, everything's on the table," Phoenix coughed into his cast then pretended he said nothing.
"I am uncomfortable with this topic of discussion," Miles wanted to end this subject at once.
"Alright, noted. So, now what, Edgeworth?" Phoenix relented easily enough.
"Why are you asking me?"
"So, you can bring up a safer topic."
Are you insane? After that, I am at even more of a loss for words.
"Oh. I know. Next time you get your nails done, can I come?"
"Why?" Miles sensed some deceit.
"Mine are filthy. Been working too hard lately. Y'know?"
Miles felt his forehead crease and he declined, "Make your own appointment, then."
"But, wouldn't it be more fun with a friend? Y'know, normal friends' stuff? You're mad that I haven't been around, so let's change that!"
"Ngh." I am utterly speechless. I need to redirect this entire conversation elsewhere before he says anything worse!
"Who is Verrier to you?" Miles asked, puzzling all the new pieces he had.
"Hmm. Why?"
"I need to know the significance of all the people involved in this case. I know very little about Verrier, beyond his abject obsession with Halloween and cheap pranks." Miles explained. Phoenix snorted.
"Halloween is so fun, right?"
"No. Keep it in October when it is actually acceptable to have those unsightly stage props on people's lawns."
"Meh. Don't really see your point."
"It's not even technically middle of August yet."
"What if I told you those unsightly props have been up since last Halloween?"
". . . This is pointless, let's just discuss what truly matters."
"I'd rather stargaze." Phoenix looked out the open window and taking in the night breeze, stonewalling Miles' progress.
Miles felt his irritation building up. He yelled in reaction, "Phoenix! Start taking this seriously!"
Phoenix did not take his eyes off the outside world when he answered just as defiantly, "I'm burnt out and want to enjoy a nice car ride before answering all these super tough questions."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Nope," He popped that p deliberately. "I want us to share in momentary happiness. No work talk right now, okay?"
"The trial starts 10:00 AM tomorrow, and I do not nearly have enough evidence for a counterargument. I do not have the luxury of being so relaxed."
"Having an aneurysm will definitely set you back. 9 out of 10 doctors can confirm. Just breathe, okay? You have me. And I have exactly what you need."
"Then tell me what I have because I am less than assured. Do you have information on the . . . incident or the persons involved?" Miles did not want the cab driving to work out what they were discussing. Phoenix followed along, though.
"Both."
"Truly?" Miles exhaled, thankful that Phoenix actually answered a direct question for once. "Well. That's reassuring if it is true."
"I do. Truly."
Okay. Maybe I am overreacting. I need to compose myself. "Phoenix?"
"Yeah?"
". . . Who is the one doctor out of ten that would argue against aneurysms being a 'setback'?"
"There's a clinic called Hotti. You'd find your quack doc there."
"You answered that entirely too quickly . . ." Miles could not tell if Phoenix joked or not. Maybe there truly was an incapable doctor out there. Is that where he bandaged his left hand? Did a swindler doctor bandage it?
"Do you want to go full on spa day or just do nails? Honestly, I could go for a massage right about now." Phoenix haphazardly bounced topics before Miles could complete one sane thought. "Oh. Do you think they have discount deals for just one hand? Don't think I can get this one done, now can I?" He waved his cast hand and then set it on Missile, who panted joyfully at the attention.
"I am not arranging anything of the sort with you." Miles refused again. This was tiring. Friendship left Miles feeling exhausted and realized why he preferred the company of his books.
"Ohh boo. You are zero fun," Phoenix pouted childishly. His eyes flickered back into something more considerate, though, and he said, "Tomorrow will be a tedious battle, but I believe we have just enough to reverse the pressure back on them."
"To be so confident. You must have a reason." He told Frost about naming another suspect. That's probably his intention for White and that shows considerate knowledge on his part
"How familiar are you with the courts?" Miles said, though Phoenix could have such knowledge on behalf of his criminal-like activities.
Phoenix pushed the ghost in Miles' face and exclaimed, "Ghost says, 'Shhh!'"
"Get that toy out of my face!" One minute, he's adult and mature – the next, a child and downright infantile at that! This is the friend I have been waiting for?
"Ouch. You hurt Ghost's feelings."
"It's a stuffed toy. It has no feelings." Am I really explaining this? What is this? Regression?
Phoenix frowned and said, "Now you've hurt my feelings."
"Ugh. You are just as bad as Larry! No. You are worse than him!"
"Oh yeah?" Phoenix challenged Miles' statement. "Tell me. Has Larry ever dashingly rescued you before?"
"I could have found a way out on my own." So much has happened, and I somehow already forgot about the window escape. And my car. Oh, I am not even through being angered by that! Miles pacified himself once more, reminding himself the goal was to learn as much as he could in preparation for tomorrow. "You seemed familiar with Verrier's house."
"Yeah. I am. I can map out a layout if you really need it."
Miles found that comment to be particularly curious. "So. This Verrier person and you must be close to allow you to alter his house in such a way."
"Ooh. How perceptive. I suppose you can think of it that way."
Miles hated to bring it up again, since he opened himself up to more teasing; however, he needed to know what everyone's interconnective relationship statuses were. Working and personal. "Is there a romantic component to this, then?"
Phoenix giggled merrily, then said, "Only if I am that vain. Stranger things have happened, though."
"That . . . did not answer my question. At all."
"Whew. I wonder how you well fare in court, my dear? Read between the lines."
"I am perfectly capable!" Miles defended himself," I do not need you doubting my ability."
"You're very book smart and I'm sure you can quote every law ever created at this point; but when it comes to reading people, you're lacking."
"That is not true. I am exceptional at spotting lies."
"My, I have you wound up. We're no further along than when we held hands on main street." Phoenix winked at him then returned to stargazing.
"This whole display is meant to rile me, then? For what purpose?"
Phoenix shrugged then said, "You're on the clock, right? Yet, you're easy to incite."
"Then this was merely a test? Do you take me for a fool?"
"Not at all. But . . . you're missing a great chunk of the obvious being so agitated. Think about what I said and tell me the truth behind it."
"You lied to me? Why?"
"I didn't say that. You just let a small little detail slip through your fingers. Well, at least one. I'm not entirely sure what you do and don't know yet."
"A detail? What did I miss, then?" Miles worked through what Phoenix said, but soon realized he had not been paying that much attention to nuance. That is clearly a mistake. Frost said something before – thinking Phoenix to be akin to a con artist of sorts. I see I have to watch what he says more carefully.
Phoenix still did not provide an explanation. "I imagine something similar could happen in court. Follow the wrong logic sequence and you'll end up with suppositions that are far different than reality." Phoenix spoke in more conundrums than absolutes. "You made one fatal assumption, Miles. But I will not tell you what it is. Yet."
"A fatal assumption?" Miles supposed it was possible that he overlooked something. He did not expect to have to analyze Phoenix so closely, though; only the details surrounding his current circumstances. "You have lost me, Phoenix."
"Curiously, I have you figured out. To be fair, I did set it up this way. It just wasn't really meant for you. Eh. It kinda was. But not for this . . ."
"What are you talking about?"
"I will explain it in more detail soon. But it's really only a safeguard I built for myself."
"A 'safeguard'? And this links back to Verrier? Is it safe to assume that you moved here when he did?"
"Ah. That's sorta true. Sorta not."
"How? It's an either/or situation, Wright. It's not like there is a lot of gray area."
". . .Okay. It's true." Phoenix trailed off . . . "Except . . ."
"Except what?"
"Look. I only want to explain this once – twice, maybe, if you need me to tomorrow. I am not trying to lie, here, but there's just something . . . inconsistent."
"What is inconsistent, then?" Miles took a few long breaths in and out, reminding himself to not explode at Phoenix, who started being slightly more communicative with information. Slightly.
"You are really having a hard time with this, aren't you? Like, it's a puzzle you've yet to solve and it's driving you a bit mad."
Miles jaw locked. Phoenix was driving him mad in multiple ways, for sure. "If it's that obvious to you, maybe you could help me see where my blind spots are."
"Well. Assuming the trial extends to its maximum three days . . ."
"Hm?" Miles crossed his arms, "You know about that, then."
"That means four days from now . . ." Phoenix continued to trail off in fractured, incomplete phrases.
"What? What happens then?"
Phoenix looked at him with a quizzical, wide-eyed expression. He let a few seconds pass before asking innocently, ". . . You want a morning or afternoon spa appointment?"
"WRIGHT!" Miles yelled. He caught me unsuspecting with his tomfoolery again. Phoenix indignantly busted out laughing, clapping his hands once before realizing that hurt, and yelped in-between strangled squeals. He alternated between sounds of pain and pure delight. The driver kept looking back with multiple judgmental looks of disgust, but Phoenix apparently did not care.
"Ooh! Your feathers are easily ruffled! I love this so much!"
"Ugh!" This is why I hate childhood friends!
All of them shared an uncomfortable, cramped space for several minutes. Only Phoenix and Missile seemed to endure the tense atmosphere, while Miles felt awkward and the driver steamed idly due to this rambunctious customer.
"Looks like we're here," Phoenix said between breaths, "Mind holding Ghost while I pay?"
"I'm not handling your toys, Wright."
"Then you pay and I'll hold onto Ghost."
"Fine," Miles stepped out of the car with Missile, and reached for his wallet, "If it means that I don't have to touch that thing, gladly."
Phoenix yelled jokingly from inside the car, "Ah! So hurtful! You're a big meanie!" Then he exited and had a very pleased look on his face.
"Would you act your age?" Miles walked away from the car and the driver readily took off away from the pair and their dog.
"Twenty-five is too young to have frustration creases. Life is meant to be enjoyed, right?" Phoenix pointed to just above Miles' eyes.
"I doubt there's any set 'meaning' ascribed by a phantasmal 'life' consciousness. However, by my standards, you are far too –"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can hear exactly what you're about to say in my head, so let's just say you scolded me and go have a spat inside, okay?" Missile wagged his tail and Phoenix decided to let the dog have his plush back – Missile was glad to take it and held onto it gently.
I am already regretting this. . . Miles shook his head and followed Phoenix in, who inexplicably took the lead into the Edgeworth's Law Offices. If Phoenix materialized a key, Miles would not be surprised at this point. That man was brazen and it was starting to really, incredibly annoy the ever-loving patience that was contained by an extremely short fuse on a normal day out of Miles.
"Door's unlocked." Phoenix predicted, then reached for it and turned the knob. . . . it was indeed unlocked.
"How . . ." Forget it. Phoenix just seems to 'know' what will happen.
"Your dad's concerned, so he wanted to make sure you could get in. Check your phone."
Miles looked at his phone and noticed several missed text messages from his father. Sure enough, Miles failed to take notice of the notifications, but Phoenix clued in on it.
"Time for a very lengthy grilling." Phoenix sighed, bracing himself for the grueling interrogation that was to come. "Five minutes goes by too quickly."
"That was a fifteen-minute car ride." Edgeworth corrected, or so he thought.
"Oh. Sure. I was talking about five minutes of laughter. It's good to laugh. As a defense lawyer, you should really learn how to put on a smile for your clients.
". . . I have heard similar before. I am not with a client, though."
"Aren't you, though?" Phoenix laughed. "At this point, I'm going to be tried for murder – either separate or with Frost."
"I never said I would defend you."
". . . Oh, really? You made that choice when you ran from the police. And I am thankful for that."
"Tell me honestly, Phoenix. Did you kill that younger Frost?" Miles asked.
Phoenix flinched. "Oh. Am I still a suspect in your eyes?"
"I have no proof one way or another. There are a few possibilities and I will not overlook the ones concerning you on presumption alone."
"I did not kill anyone." Phoenix said.
"How do I know that for sure?" Miles pressed. "I . . . I am having trouble with all these events surrounding you. My Father and I defend those we think are innocent and falsely accused. But if you actually did murder someone, I cannot condone any of this."
"I cannot prove it by talking out here."
"I would not want to bring a murderer in my Father's offices."
"Ah. You have the right to refuse me, as I do you. None of this is precedent to how a normal process operates. You have your rules; you like them very much. So, call the police and you will get that information secondary tomorrow, long after the trial and after you're able to do anything with it. Or hear me out now. Those are your choices, Miles."
"How do I know this wasn't your plan from the beginning? To have my Father and I together so you can manipulate us into believing your version of events?"
"You're an expert at spotting lies. So you tell me. I have not killed anyone. I do not plan on killing anyone. What happened to Fiona was an oversight and it should not have happened. It did, though. White killed her and I know I can prove it."
"White would be an awfully convenient scapegoat for you. You cannot deny that possibility."
Phoenix fiddled with his cast, "A convenient scapegoat that has been following me since last night. Tell me logically – if I said that White wanted to kill me, but failed to do so, where would be the first place he looked?"
"At . . . Where you live." Miles already concluded that.
"Then you and I should be able to prove that. He falsely believed that I would return there and I falsely believed that no one was home. I called Ruby as soon as I knew that White was on to me. Frost and I were partners but . . . well . . . as you'll find out, it doesn't seem like communication was our strong suit."
"I already knew that, too. . ." Miles sighed. "It is possible that you and the Frosts argued, then you killed Fiona to set Ruby up. Then you could have planned to have White incarcerated another way."
"Do you think I am capable of something complicated like that?" Phoenix asked.
"From what Frost said and how you have controlled events thus far? Undoubtedly."
"You give me too much credit. Time's wasting, Miles. if there's something you want to say, then say it."
Miles did have something he wanted to say. Something that would throw another wrench in their already strained reunion. "I do not want to bring a murderer into my Father's offices, nor do I want to protect such a person from the law."
"Ah."
"But I have made it this far in my investigation on some unaccredited trust in you. That you were not a criminal. I do not know what to believe and I do not know what to make of anything that involves you."
". . . How about a deal? You ask me one question and I will answer it as best as I can." Phoenix bargained, "If you do not like the answer, then I will leave you. Or you can have the police escort me. If you do like the answer, then we can start a discussion inside."
"How do I know you aren't a threat to me or my Father?"
"Never." Phoenix grimaced, then smiled. "I would never harm you. And I respect your Father too much to wish harm on him, let alone do anything."
Miles believed Phoenix. That was not a lie. However, he said, "That's not the question I wanted to ask."
"Fair enough. What is?" Phoenix played with a necklace that Miles had not noticed before. It was his Blue Signal Samurai on a chain that his white undershirt's collar kept hidden until then.
"Why did you not tell us when you first came home?" That was the only question that Miles wanted a straightforward answer at that point in time. Phoenix lowered his arm and the smile disappeared from his face.
"My life is dangerous. I cannot deny that. I came here for a job and . . . there is certain risks to that job."
"A job?" The truth rang in his words – vague, and of a similar thread to the answer he gave before, but he answered it none-the-less. "What job?"
"Your two questions are used up. Make your decision, Miles."
"I . . . I will hear you out." Miles said, still internally fighting how wrong all of this was.
Phoenix, on the other hand, smiled, "Good. I'm ready, let's get this done."
