JP: This was set before the events of Rise From The Ashes, where a forlorn Lana Skye laments her fate of being Gant's puppet, knowing full well how much her distant veneer is making her more and more estranged from her beloved sibling with every passing day. For milady, ChloeMcg. Admittedly it's not the merriest song-fic I've ever written, but given the events of 2020 it actually is quite fitting – and the original song, while lovely, definitely has melancholy written all over it, just like poor Chief Prosecutor must have that last X-Mas before February 2017 when a certain swimming enthusiast finally got what he deserved!
Merry Christmas to you all! See you in the New Year!
CT: Y'know, I've always been intrigued by Gant and Lana's relationship because while it's one of the primary focuses of "Rise from the Ashes", we don't know all that much about it. Sure, we know that Gant would blackmail Lana so he could ensure that prosecutors would prosecute the criminals that his subordinates would arrest, but we don't know how often he did it or to the extent of it. For example, for all we know, in "Turnabout Sisters", a possible reason why the police were so willing to arrest Phoenix in place of Maya before the latter's trial had reached a conclusion was because Redd somehow managed to piece together that Gant was blackmailing Lana.
Though regardless of the exact details of how Gant took advantage of his ability to manipulate Lana, one thing is certain: her situation was a sad one, and that sadness is perfectly captured in this parody of JP's.
"(Not) Admissible"
Sung to the tune of
"Invisible" from the movie Klaus
Chief Prosecutor's Office – December 24, 2016
"But Lana, you've got to come!" Ema pleaded with her stolid sibling. "The special exhibit at the Museum featuring Madame Curie is tonight! You know I've been dying to have you take me!"
The elder Skye refused to turn around and face her sister, instead focusing her attention on the overcast grey clouds outside her office window. The bleak weather didn't faze her, though. If anything, her mood matched the weather.
Dreary days had become her fate ever she'd become a certain self-proclaimed Crime Computer's marionette.
Even on the sunniest of days in Los Angeles, it's always raining inside my heart.
Regardless of whenever the acclaimed Japalifornia sunshine did stream through the windows, her eternal despondent mind remained clouded with grey, her moods merely swaying like a pendulum between low and lower.
"You shouldn't have waited until last-minute on my account, Ema," she intoned woodenly. "I never promised that I would go with you. You know part of my devoir as Chief Prosecutor means I can't work a regular 9 to 5 job. I'll probably have to work late, or at least stay until after dinner time in case Chief Gant…"
She paused for a moment to swallow the bile which always rose in her throat whenever she was forced to speak her tormentor's name aloud.
"…needs me for anything."
"But it's Christmas Eve! I was hoping we could go for dinner afterward and you could have some fun for a change instead of being married to your work!" Ema insisted, refusing to take no for an answer. Her voice turned slightly coy. "I ran into Jake on my way over here and he casually mentioned that he and Angel and some of the old gang were going to be hanging out at the local tavern tonight for a little bit and he'd be glad if we wanted to drop by and say hi…"
At the mention of her old boyfriend, the former detective's heart gave a familiar pang, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden stinging sensation.
This lugubrious sensation is like a heavy manteau draped around my shoulders, one which I am unable to merely cast to the ground no matter how much I yearn to do so. Yet despite clinging to the edges of the wool and wrapping it around me, I never find the warm solace I seek. Instead of warmth, it is only the melancholy that clings to me. It's like a ball and chain wrapped around my feet, not allowing me to move forward – to experience any sunshine or anything gemütlich; that halcyon bliss that lives in memories that can't rise from the ashes.
She had lost so much more than her freedom these last few years, ever since that Kafkaesque incident that had changed both Skye sisters' lives forever. Lana had lost the close bond she'd once treasured with her baby sister, whom she'd loved and raised as her own daughter all these years, along with her thriving detective career as one half of the Legendary Duo.
Losing the only man that she'd ever loved on top of all that had simply been the cherry on the whole shit sundae.
Her ephemeral relationship with the demoted patrolman simply had not been able to withstand the strain of her newfound unwanted promotion, along with the combined pain of losing his brother and the lacuna surrounding her forced secrecy and consequent withdrawal from him. The combination had continued widening the growing rift between them until it had become a gaping chasm that rivaled the Grand Canyon.
Now he's just somebody that I used to know.
"Trust me, Ema," she bit out, in a slightly harsher tone than she'd intended in order to keep her voice from shaking and betraying her emotions. "If Jake Marshall is accompanied by a certain sultry lunch lady in any capacity, he won't notice my absence. You know he probably just being polite to his favorite Bambina. The truth is that rhinestone cowboy couldn't care less if I joined them any more than I care to do so."
"Why are you like this?" Ema demanded, frustration creeping into her voice. "Why are you so stuck up and cold, and acting like it's beneath you to hang out with your former crew? Is it just because you're Miss High and Mighty Chief Prosecutor now?"
No answer from Lana.
"Why do you keep shutting everybody out? It's bad enough that you been doing it to me but these people were your closest friends!" Her sister's cadence now bore undisguised hurt. "And they still would be, if you'd let them and stopped being such an Ice Queen! You'd give Elsa a run for her money!"
"Those keystone cops were my colleagues. And as I am now their superior, any sort of friendship would be incongruous. I don't believe in mixing business with pleasure." Lana finally turned around and eyed her sister stonily. "As for Angel Starr, she never could stand me. I know she always had her eye on Jake, and I'm pretty sure she has since sunk those crimson claws and teeth into every inch of him ever since we split, with no intention of releasing her grip – despite her hordes of boyfriends! Don't be fooled she says otherwise, either. That mythomaniac has never liked me enough to give me a wet fart on a dry day."
Ema clapped a hand to her cheek as her jaw dropped open at this uncharacteristic crassness.
"Ews! That was mondo grosso! When did you get so lewd?"
Ever since I have been forced to keep extra company with a crude certain Aqua Enthusiast despot who continually makes skin-crawling innuendos about wanting me to "get wet" with him… I would bet my ass he's not just talking about taking a dip in his swimming pool either! Personally, I'd rather do naked squats a bucket of broken glass!
"Lana, I've had it with you!" Angry tears were now glistening in Ema's expressive teal eyes, which were identical to those of her stoic sibling. "Forget Elsa – she may have been frigid but she was at least human! One who loved her sister deep down under that frosty veneer!"
Dead silence was the only response to her outburst. Lana had again turned away from her, the door to the walls surrounding her firmly shut and locked.
"Fine! See if I care! You go and spend the night before Christmas at work – I hope all the extra money makes you happier than a pig in feces, and that the ATM gives great hugs!" Ema shouted, already storming towards the exit in a flood of tears. "You – you suck, Lana Skye! I don't even know you anymore! You're worse than a monarch with ice powers – you're nothing more than a cyborg! No, wait – a full-blown android! That's all you are – an unfeeling, lifeless … talking robot! For all I know, your programming is going to short circuit without warning, and you're going to go all HAL 9000 on us!"
The anterior policewoman bit back a reluctant smile of admiration at the creativity of the teen's barbed slurs. She'd gotten so accustomed to them over the years that they barely even stung anymore.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. At this point, I should be able to bench press a Buick.
The first few times she'd been the cause of Ema's tears, however, had nearly been her undoing. More than anything in the world, Lana had wished she could take the girl in her arms and comfort her. Explain everything to her. Let her know just how much her big sister loved her.
Mindless of the liquid droplets falling into her scarlet muffler, she leaned her forehead against the cold glass.
[Lana]
How much more tears can these eyes make?
Cuz he's sealed my fate? (I don't know, I don't know)
How much longer till I crack from strain
From his evil ways? (I don't know, I don't know)
The fault's all his
Wish I could change the past today
Ditch façade that I must fake
No more smiles or joy or sun
When he says "jump" I must say "yup"
Try to conceal it (so much woe)
How much I hate this bullshit (so much woe)
The truth Ema can never know
Isn't admissible (not admissible)
How much longer till my heart will break? (I don't know, I don't know)
From this aching pain? (I don't know, I don't know)
How to confess it's all for her sake
And for her, I'd do anything? (I don't know, I don't know)
The fault's all his
Wish I could change the past today
Ditch façade that I must fake
No more smiles or joy or sun
When he says "jump" I must say "yup"
Try to conceal it (so much woe)
How much I hate this bullshit (so much woe)
The truth Ema can never know
Isn't admissible (not admissible)
My life's a lie, concede it (so much woe)
My cross to bear, so be it (so much woe)
The truth Ema can never know
Isn't admissible (The truth Ema can never know)
Isn't admissible (No, no, no)
Isn't admissible (No, no, no)
Isn't admissible (No, no, no)
Isn't admissible…
A gust of wind blew through the open screen, making her shiver, and she hastily pulled the sliding glass shut. The temperature had dropped noticeably in the past few days, but the onset of rain and a northern wind had made it feel frigid, which was abnormal for LA. With no break in the gloom above, the chance of a let-up was below zero. It was going to be a dismal, rain-filled day, and no amount of imploring with Mother Nature or whatever forces up above was going to change that.
Ema's last cutting remark still rankled.
This time, their fight had hit more home more than she'd thought it would. Because there was more than some actual veracity to this onslaught. She may as well have been an emotionless automaton. Lana truly didn't feel much of anything anymore. She'd gotten accustomed to just feeling… numb.
"Well, well, well. That went down like a pork chop at a kosher wedding! Ho Ho Ho!"
Lana hastily wiped her damp eyes with her sleeve but refused to acknowledge the new presence in her midst. She didn't need to turn around to know that the jolly tone coming from her office doorway didn't belong to Santa Claus… Although in this case, her unwelcome visitor did have a whitish beard and hair…
Even though I've seen better hairstyles on elephant testicles…
…And just happened to wear gloves.
"Tsk, tsk. You really did upset that poor kid, didn't you? And the day before Noel, too! Should I just paint you green and call you the Grinch?"
She pointedly ignored her puppet master and continued to stare sightlessly outside at the rain, now pouring down in unrelenting sheets. It pounded heavily on the rooftops, turning the cobbled streets of the Downtown District into a warren of slick stones and muddy waters.
"My dear, are you hearing me, or is going into some sort of picture perplexity?" Damon Gant affected his most charming tone while he attempted to jest with his prized plaything. "Should I slap you and redirect your stream of thought to the light of lucidity?"
What in the sweet almighty taint-chafing fuck do you want? Was what Lana longed to scream in response, but would never, ever give her antagonist the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure in such a manner. It was bad enough he'd been lurking in the shadows and eavesdropped on the heartbreaking scene with Ema – and even worse, likely heart her own dejected song of woe.
The brunette carefully arranged her features into a composed mask, sharply lifted her chin, and treated the Police Chief to the icy stare she'd perfected over the years and reserved especially for him.
"I was just thinking how could today could not possibly get any worse," she responded with cool disdain. "And then, as if my words had been heard by a malevolent God, here you are!"
"HAW HAW HAW!" Gant guffawed loudly and clapped his leather-clad hands like a drunken seal. "It's raining harder than a double-snooched cow whizzing on a flat rock right now! I may need to go outside and get myself wet to cool off from the fierceness of that burn! That was a good one, Lany!"
Despite the ennui in her voice, there was no disguising the animus in her eyes as she fixed them upon her boss.
"What is it you want, Chief Gant?"
"Isn't it obvious? It's Christmas Eve – and you made it painfully clear to your poor kid sister you're not going to be spending it with her!"
Without warning the burly man shucked off his trademark orange jacket and dropped his trousers, revealing a tight orange Speedo that left nothing to the imagination.
Lana fought back the bile rising in her throat
How disgusting! My eyes feel like prostitutes!
"Therefore, I figured what better way to celebrate the Yuletide tintinnabulation of the festive season than with yours truly? What say we Deck the Balls – er, Halls, by going for a swim? It may be pouring out there, but I figure the rain never bothered you anyway… Elsa."
Gant flashed an oily leer.
"Alas, 'tis the time of giving, isn't it? After all, we'd both be getting wet anyway…"
He was immediately subjected to a lethal glare that threatened to vaccinate his crotch goblins right there on the spot, and the Brobdingnagian Chief felt the words die in his throat at the message relayed in those fiery twin emeralds.
Without even a single word needing to be spoken, they clearly conveyed: "dare to touch me even once, and I'll pull your brains out through your nose, spread it on a petri dish, and let the scientists figure out why you had a death wish."
Gant let out a frightened whelp that started out sounding like a bleating sheep and ended up like a dying goat farting into a megaphone. Ducking his head, he quickly raised both palms up, in the universal "no offense" gesture, before hastily grabbing his pants from around his ankles with one hand and his discarded jacket with the other.
"HO HO HO!" He forced his most jovial chortle. "Relax! Just kidding!"
With that, the newly subdued lecher speedily waddled away as fast as his trouser-trapped legs could carry him, shuddering as he did so.
"Jiminy Christmas! Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn…"
Dual (because you know, we're a duet!) shout out of thanks and replies to the following awesomesauce readers/reviewers including PM's! Everyone else…thanks so much for reading! 😊
Chapter 101
TheFreelancerSeal
CT: When it comes to the "Ratchet and Clank" series (especially the PS2 games), they're potato chips- between the smooth blend of good platforming, engaging combat, great level design, a phenomenal soundtrack, and plenty of humor, you can't just play one game. Though while all of the games in the series- even the weaker ones- have their comedic gems, the third game in the series "Up Your Arsenal", takes the crown when it comes to humor hands down solely because of the main villain, Dr. Nefarious. The guy essentially takes the zaniness and energy of a Saturday morning cartoon villain like Skeletor and kicks it up to 11, which, when mixed with his temper, results in him freezing up (he's a robot, so glitches happen) and playing bits and pieces of a cheesy soap opera, not unlike a radio. And what makes Nefarious even better is that he's always accompanied by his stereotypically snide British butler, Lawrence, who's already ready to deliver some dry burns- essentially, he's the robot version of Geoffrey from "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air".
JP: better late than never pal! I've been gone from the site for yonks myself but I figure I had to come back for one final show of the year! Just like the song request I fulfilled here, I had neither seen the movie or heard of the song, and Ratchet and Clank game was just as unfamiliar to me as well. However, the greatest thing about collaborating with funnyman Thwomp and getting to know wonderful readers like you was being exposed to different things and different sorts of songs. When it comes to picturing connubial calisthenics between Her Malevolence and of the greasy wannabe mobster that killed Daddy Dragon (hereby leaving Nick as the sole DILF in the Ace Attorney universe) we are talking some pretty Disturbia imagery that could make a freight train take a dirt road! That being said, I'm pretty sure Inga would rather crap on his hands and clap than be subjected to the bloodthirsty spider "slamming his face in dough and make gorilla cookies!" But… You can't always get what you want! I'm sadistic enough to have mentally dubbed all of my sidesplitting partner's headcanons about the royal couple from hell as my own personal canon… The fact that I find it more hilarious than harrowing probably just proves that I'm more warped than a Mario pipe that way! 😂 I no longer talked to before then but Merry Christmas, bud!
chloemcg
CT: Same here. For me, I love the first four "Ratchet and Clank" games, though I've never really been able to pick a favorite out of the bunch due to them all being really great in their own ways: The first game, while a bit irritating due to how little health you can get, the lack of armor, and insane shop prices for end-game weapons (with the problem only being worsened by the numerous mandatory paywalls), has in my opinion the best OST and plot. With "Going Commando", while I find the overall plot to be the weakest of the four games, I feel that it more than makes up for it in regards to the levels that you visit, as well as the space battles and the selection of weapons. When it comes to "Up Your Arsenal", while I find that it has the weakest weapon selection of the bunch (with the grand majority being recycled from the previous two games), it had the best villains and bosses. And finally, while "Deadlocked" lacks the emphasis on platforming that the previous three games had, it compensates by making a game out of the fun arena challenges.
The way I see it, if Ga'ran and Morgan ever met, I could easily imagine them getting along swimmingly up until the latter, being the power-hungry sociopath that she is, tries to kill the former in order have Pearl usurp the throne of Khura'in. After all, why settle for a single village when you could have an entire nation?
Knowing Phoenix and Larry, if they had an art contest, it would probably consist of the latter drawing the latest woman (or women) he's pining over while the former would probably do a reimagining of his signature sketch from his college days: a field of flowers, though with iris instead of dahlias.
JP: you know somebody is a good writer if they can make you feel sorry for an obvious fiendish villain like the murderous slicker than greasy owl poop known as Inga Karkhuul Haw'kohd Dis'nahm Bi'ahni Lawga Ormo Pohmpus Da'nit Ar'edi Iz Khura'in III! It would be so awesome if Ga'ran and The Hair had met – it would literally be a battle of the hair… Bulletproof beehive vs. razor-sharp spider spikes! The last woman standing gets to have the kid that rules the land! It is always such a joy to hear from you wishing you a very Merry Christmas milady! 💓
Peoplepersonsof DooM
CT: While I've never went into any thorough detail when it comes to Ga'ran's love life (and Inga's hate life), my personal headcanon is that it's all kinds of freaky. After all, as they say, "crazy in the head, crazy in the bed", and when it comes to crazy, it's hard to beat a woman who takes great pleasure in utterly humiliating her adopted daughter in public during one of the most difficult times of her life, blackmails her nephew for several years, and personally commits a fake assassination plot involving arson. Plus, given Ga'ran's prosecutor's outfit, large fan/paddle, and love of dominating her opponents in court, she pretty much a dominatrix without the leather.
While Inga wanted to make lemons out of lemonade by roleplaying as Disney's classic manly man, Ga'ran would never dress as Belle or any Disney princess for two reasons: One, she's the kind of person who would rather die than dress as a goody-goody character. And two, the last thing Ga'ran would want would be to be reminded of Amara, her Snow-White sister who can summon all the animals of the forest to her side at a moment's notice, in her domain. That's why Ga'ran chose to roleplay as Cruella De Vil on account of the villain's personality, attire, and desire to kill animals.
JP: Silent Night… Unholy Night…Like Inga just was forced to say to Ga'ran… Well, I'll be sodomized on Christmas! CT managed to traumatize you, Lyn?! I am shocked… I've seen the stuff you come up with in your works! Also, I am impressed… I always thought with the stuff that you told me you'd seen that you were infallible! Hearing the contrary from my fave funny girl… why that's Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! 😉
Merry Christmas girl! 😊
