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 fanfic.
A/N: For those of you who have read this story's predecessor, The von Karma Family Beach Trip, you'll know that in my headcanon, Manfred von Karma, Damon Gant, and Blaise Debeste are childhood friends since they are the same age, have similar views on manipulating the law as a means to an end, and would all serve to benefit from being friends.
If you're wondering how Manfred could be childhood friends with Gant and Blaise, even though he's a German citizen, I'll be covering that point in a later chapter. But for now, all you need to know is that when he was a child, Manfred and his parents immigrated to the U.S. However, when Manfred was 18, one thing led to another and his parents abandoned him, prompting him- now a legal adult- to move back to the country of his birth to learn the family's ways of prosecuting from his uncle.
With all that said, I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter of this new fanfic!
After a long week of work, everyone likes to enjoy a nice Friday night out- having fun with friends and unwinding as they anticipate the weekend ahead. Even the most corrupt of people need some time to relax.
This was why Blaise Debeste and Damon Gant were sitting in Manfred von Karma's Victorian-style living room on a posh, yet ornate couch that was more wood than cushion in front of a large television with different moods about them. The former, with his arms crossed, was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground and muttering death threats under his breath while the latter sat patiently with his hands folded, grinning as he soaked in the room- specifically at a colorful tapestry depicting a shield-shaped image of a man cladded in golden armor standing triumphantly on top of a pile three defeated and battered people, one a grown man, one a grown woman, and one a small child, beneath a large 'K' in the center.
"Dammit! Where the hell's von Karma!?" Blaise snarled, a large pillar of flame erupting from his lighter. "How long does it take for someone to make popcorn?"
"C'mon Blaisie, relax!" Gant stated with a grin as he pat the Chief Prosecutor's shoulder. "Where's the fun in having a movie night if you're gonna stress out over strict scheduling? So what's the harm in waiting a bit?"
"Y'know I'm not a patient man, Gant! Especially when I want to enjoy an evening away from my idiot son- which I can't do if I can't watch a movie with a damn bowl of popcorn! VON KARMA! CORN!" Blaise bellowed at the top of his lungs, kicking the back of his foot against the couch.
"Keep your unfashionable eyesore of a jacket on, Debeste. I'm coming." Manfred snapped as he entered the room with a large bowl of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of chardonnay in the other. "It wouldn't kill you to wait ten minutes."
"You were making popcorn and getting drinks, not preparing for a case! Hell, my stupid bastard of a son could have done that faster than you, y'know!" Blaise yelled. "Granted, he'd probably burn my house to the ground in the process, but you get the idea."
"Speaking of which, don't you have cooks to do this kind of stuff?" Gant asked with a confused look as he fiddled with his hair. "So I don't get why you couldn't have had one of them take care of the food and drinks while we decide on the movie."
"I may have cooks, Gant, but they are used only for meals. I may be opulent, but I have my pride." Manfred replied, handing the bowl of popcorn to his irritable superior. "I can easily handle simple snacks and beverages such as this by myself."
"Objection!" Blaise said with a look of disgust as he eyed the bowl of popcorn as if it was radioactive waste.
"What could you possibly have to complain about, Debeste? That popcorn is perfect!" Manfred proclaimed with a snap of his fingers.
"Perfect my ass!" Blaise angrily scoffed. "There's no butter on this corn!" The Chief Prosecutor proceeded to scoop up a handful of popcorn and shove it into his mouth, only to immediately spit it out. "And it's only lightly salted! What the hell, von Karma!?"
"It's healthier." The 'perfect' prosecutor curtly replied.
"And crappier! Y'see, food's only worth eating if it's got flavor and clogs your arteries! And what the hell is this?!" Blaise asked, holding up the bottle of expensive wine. "Chardonnay!? Why… Why are you trying to torture me so?" The Chief Prosecutor whimpered, his goggles filling up with tears as he pulled on his fake beard."
"And what's wrong with chardonnay? It's the perfect alcoholic beverage that exudes elegance and class- two things that you wouldn't recognize through your tear-filled goggles." Manfred retorted.
Blaise emptied the tears from his goggles with an exasperated sigh before playing with his lighter. "Y'see von Karma, chardonnay is what you serve if you're: A. Tring to impress your superiors. B. Hosting some big family party that you've gotta go all-out for. Or C. Trying to get into some hot chicks pants by flaunting off your wealth and getting her so drunk that she can't tell up from down. You don't serve it at a guy's night out! This isn't some country club that gives out crumpets and tea! No, you've gotta serve a man's drink- you've gotta serve lager!"
The Chief Prosecutor put down the bottle of chardonnay and reached behind the couch, pulling out a six-pack of lager that he brought with him.
"So it wasn't trashy enough that you came into my home with that garish jacket of yours? You also had to bring that discount store swill with you?" Manfred growled with crossed arms and a scowl on his face."
"Don't look at me like that." Blaise wept as he tugged on his fake beard. "I want to ensure that my night out is enjoyable, y'know? Because y'see, after this movie when I get back home at eight, I'll be left with just my worthless idiot son and my memories of this night. So I'll be damned if it's anything less that fun."
"Get home at eight?" Gant parroted, cocking his head in confusion as he fiddled with his hair. "I'd understand that thinking if you actually cared about Sebby, but I know for a fact that's never been true."
"Yeah, I'd stay out longer, but I have to be back by that time to relieve the babysitter since her bedtime's at nine." Blaise stated as he played with his lighter. "Y'see, if I'm back any later, I'll have to pay her two pennies instead of one."
"What kind of babysitter has a nine o'clock bedtime?" The Chief of Police asked.
"And what kind of babysitter charges only mere pennies?" Manfred chimed in.
Meanwhile at Blaise's house, Sebastian was sitting on the floor of his living room in front of a Candy Land game board, opposite his babysitter, four-year-old Trucy Enigmar, who was wearing her salmon-colored cape and matching hat.
"Oh, purple!" Trucy squealed as she looked at the card she had just picked up from the top of the pile between her and her adolescent ward before moving her game piece, one of Blaise's socks, onto the final space in front of the candy castle. "Looks like I win again!"
"No fair!" Sebastian pouted, slamming his fists on the ground as tears streamed down his cheeks. "You've gotta be cheating!"
"How am I cheating? The cards are shuffled and face down. You've had the same chances to win as I've had since we started playing."
"Oh yeah? Then why have I been getting the Plumpy card- the worst card, might I add- right when I'm about to reach the end? I don't like Plumpy, but yet I'm the only one whose been getting him for the last 30 minutes! How do you explain that?" Sebastian asked, making a frame with his hands as he flashed the young girl a determined look.
"I don't know." Trucy responded with a shrug of her shoulders. "I guess you've just been having bad luck."
"Or maybe you and Plumpy have been perspiring against me!"
"…What?" Trucy asked, cocking her head in confusion."
"Don't play dumb with me! I can see the trees in the forest, and I know that you've been teaming up with Plumpy because you're jealous of how I'm 'The Best'!"
"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard, and I come from a family of magicians!"
"Is it? Is it?! Why else would Plumpy have that smudge grin on his face? He knows what he's doing, and that's because you and him have been working together the whole time! That's why you wanted to play Candy Land! Now it all makes sense!"
"I only wanted to play Candy Land because you wouldn't stop begging me to play it with you!"
"Only because you manipulated me with your magician ways! Pops was right- magicians are nothing but lying, cheating Charlemagnes!" Sebastian hissed as he bent his baton.
"Ok Sebastian, you're behavior's getting really bad! So go sit in the corner until you're ready to apologize!" Trucy snapped, pointing a stern finger to a nearby corner.
"You can't punish me! You're not my pops! You don't threaten me with a coat hanger when you're trying to watch The Wheel!" Sebastian angrily sobbed.
"No, but your daddy told me that if you start acting up, I can punish you." Trucy retorted before pushing a hidden switch under her cape, causing Mr. Hat to emerge and don her top hat. "Now quit being knotty and get in that corner before I turn my hand into a paddle!" The young magician threatened in a deeper tone without moving her lips, instead speaking through Mr. Hat.
So Sebastian, feeling defeated and dejected, lowered his head and walked over to the corner, where he proceeded to sit with his back turned to his babysitter and lightly whimper.
"Let me get this straight: You hired a four-year-old girl to watch your 13-year-old son?" Manfred asked with crossed arms.
"You've seen Sebastian." Blaise stated as he played with his lighter. "The little bastard would completely wreck my house if he was left unsupervised, y'see? As for why I chose a little girl, that was done purely for efficiency. Y'see, I'm not a big fan of spending more money on my failure of a son than I need to. Why do think you only see him wearing his school uniform?"
"Ok, enough about Sebby." Gant said with a clap of his hands. "What movie are we going to watch first?"
"Obviously, in order for tonight to be a success, we must first set the proper tone. And how will we do that? Why, by making sure that the first movie that we view is a perfect classic- specifically, my personal favorite film: Citizen Kane." Manfred smirked as he picked up a DVD of said movie off of the nearby coffee table.
"Y'know, if I wanted to uncover some mysteries about a dead guy, I'd go to work and have you do it for me, von Karma."
"And what riveting masterpiece of a film- and use the term loosely- did you have in mind, Debeste?" Manfred irritably asked with crossed arms and a roll of his eyes.
"Two words: Demolition Man!" Blaise smirked, pulling the movie's DVD out from inside his jacket.
"Demolition Man… Bah! That movie is a mockery both to our lines of work and cinematography in general." The veteran prosecutor scoffed. "Why would you want to watch something so childish when you could instead watch a timeless masterpiece that perfectly captures the complexity of human nature?"
The Chief Prosecutor started playing with his lighter. "Y'know, Demolition Man is plenty deep. Y'see, it warns us of what'll happen if we let the spineless, goody-goody bureaucrats have their way- creating a world in which we won't be able to cuss and will only be allowed to eat Taco Bell while singing the Oscar Meyer Weiner song; all while sprinkling in action elements and a kickass final fight."
"Yes Debeste, because the bureaucrats' are fervently planning to turn the world into a cheap knockoff of Orwell's 1984." Manfred sarcastically replied.
"Planning? They already have. Think about it, von Karma, when was the last time you've heard someone other than me say things like 'shit', 'bastard', 'crap', 'bitch', or 'f& #'? See, I can't even f*#%&$ say 'f& #' because the f*#%&$ liberal media's trying to be more f*#%&$ corrupt than me by f*#%&$ brainwashing everyone!"
"That's because you're an uneducated brute that doesn't know the meaning of the phrase 'social educate'. Perhaps if you indulged in more mentally stimulating films like Citizen Kane, you could actually behave like a person, and not some knuckle-dragging troglodyte." Manfred snidely retorted.
"And maybe if you cut loose with more kickass films like Demolition Man, you wouldn't act as old and stiff as your outfit, Count Blandula." Blaise sneered.
"I'd rather be 'old and stiff' than childish and garish any day of the week, thank you very much."
"I have to leave in about an hour, so can't you find it in your heart to let me enjoy my movie of choice in what little time I have left here?" The Chief Prosecutor whimpered, his goggles filling with tears as he pulled on his fake beard.
"Absolutely not." Manfred coldly replied.
"But I'm the guest." Blaise argued as he emptied the tears from his goggles. "So being the snooty high-society guy you are, you've got no choice but to give into my demands and watch Demolition Man."
"But we're in my home, and what I say goes; and I say that we watch Citizen Kane." Manfred growled with crossed arms as he squeezed his right bicep.
"Y'know, you're forgetting that I'm your boss. Y'see, I sign your paycheck which goes towards paying for this house and property, which by extension makes me the owner. So unless you want to end up homeless on the mean streets of L.A., I'd suggest not being such a stuck-up sourpuss and actually listening to my suggestions." Blaise sneered.
"Bah! Do you seriously think that your empty threats scare me, Debeste? Cast your gaze upon the von Karma Family crest." Manfred proclaimed, gesturing to the tapestry that Gant was previously looking at. "Notice how my ancestor, Ottokar, Lord of Karma, is standing victoriously atop three people. This represents how no man, woman, or child, no matter how affluent they are or how much power they wield, can change the mind of one of von Karma blood. To do so would be to start a fight that will result only in a resounding defeat for the fool who thought they could stand a chance against the power and perfection of the von Karma. So Debeste, what film will we be watching?"
"Demolition Man." Blaise hissed.
"No, Citizen Kane." Manfred retorted in a similar fashion.
"Demolition Man!"
"Citizen Kane!"
"Demolition Man!"
"Citizen Kane!"
"Mother-f*#%&$ Demolition Man!"
With each objection, the two stubborn men leaned in closer and closer to each other, their scowls becoming harsher and harsher, until their faces were mere inches away.
"Can't we just compromise and watch Free Willy?" Gant innocently chimed in, holding up the DVD that he brought with him.
"NO!" Manfred and Gant yelled in unison, both men glaring daggers at the orange-cladded Chief of Police before returning to glowering at each other.
"Well, arguing's getting us nowhere. So maybe we should settle this little dispute with a challenge- winner decides what movie we should watch first." Gant proposed with clasped hands and a grin on his face.
"A perfect idea… so long as it's not Jenga." Manfred growled.
"Here we go again!" Blaise exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. "You lose one game of Jenga back in 2011 and you're still upset about it!"
"Only because you deliberately rocked the table on my turn, causing the tower to collapse!" Manfred objected.
"I was getting comfortable in my seat and my knee accidentally hit the table leg! Sue me!" Blaise snarled, a large pillar of flames erupting from his lighter.
"Trust me; I would have if any of the worthless judges in this city would take my case!"
"Boohoo! I'm Manfred von Karma and I'm a big baby who's so insecure that I throw a hissy fit whenever I lose!" Blaise said, mocking his subordinate's voice in an exaggerated fashion, crying as he tugged on his fake beard.
"I am not insecure about losing because I never lose!" Manfred objected with a snap of his fingers. "And if I do so happen to be bested, it's only because of cheaters like you. That's right; I saw that sneer on your face when you hit that table!"
"Well, you didn't see that sneer when I-"
The Chief Prosecutor was suddenly interrupted by a thunderous clap from Gant, who proceeded to flash his friends one of his infamous stares for a few moments until he was certain that the two men had calmed down enough to listen to reason.
"Are you two ready to listen…?" The Chief of Police sternly asked, talking down to both men as if he was a parent disciplining two unruly children.
"von Karma started it." Blaise nonchalantly replied, casually pointing at the 'perfect' prosecutor who proceeded to give him the stink eye.
"I don't care who started it, because I'm ending it. Manny, you still have that room dedicated to fencing?"
"What kind of moronic question is that, Gant?" Manfred retorted with crossed arms. "Fencing is a sport that the von Karma family has actively practiced for generations. To not have a room dedicated to it would go against centuries of perfect tradition."
"Jolly good!" Gant proclaimed with a clap of his hands. "We'll settle this matter with a little fencing duel, which I'll be refereeing. That way, when you both start arguing and complaining about the results, I'll be able to step in and determine a definitive winner."
"In that case, get ready to appreciate the complexity of Charles Foster Kane, Debeste." Manfred sneered.
"Y'know, that's awfully big talk from someone who's about to get their ass handed to them." Blaise scoffed. "Hope you can maintain that spirit of optimism when I'm beating you and calling you Sebastian."
While Manfred professed to having a room devoted to fencing, the large, open area with tall ceilings and plenty of high-quality safety mats on the ground made it suitable for a wide variety of physical activities. However, one could easily see that the 'perfect' prosecutor was dedicated solely to the sport modeled after the duals held by knights of bygone days by several racks against the back wall with several foils, epees, and sabres, as well as a glass case filled with several finely-crafted protective clothing and masks.
Though since Manfred and Blaise were both in too much of a hurry to properly suit up, said safety gear was left untouched as the two men each grabbed a foil and then proceeded to stand opposite each other on a mat in the center of the room, their stances ready for battle. And while the prosecutors were readying themselves, Gant took his place off of the mat so he wouldn't get in the way, yet still standing in a position that would allow him to clearly see what was going on.
"Alright guys, since we all know telling Blaisie to play fair is like telling me not to swim…" The Chief of Police paused to chuckle at his own joke, causing Manfred to groan and slowly shake his head. "And since we want to start watching movies as soon as possible, we're going to do no holds barred. In this match, anything goes, and the first person to touch the center of the other's chest with their baton-sword-thing wins."
"The proper term is foil, not 'baton-sword-thing'." Manfred interjected.
"We're here to see you get your ass kicked, Sebastian, not a trivia session." Blaise sneered.
"En garde!" The 'perfect' prosecutor shouted, pointing his foil at his opponent.
"Alright, begin!" Gant proclaimed with a wave of his hand.
Like two cowboys in the Old West preparing for a duel, Manfred and Blaise just stood their ground, their foils at the ready to strike. Sure, Blaise was known for asserting control whenever he could, but as with everything, there was a time and place for his meglomanic behavior, and this wasn't the time. For the Chief Prosecutor relied on a combination of intimidation, fear, and surprise to overpower his opponent's defenses and claim an easy victory. But when going up against an adversary like Manfred von Karma, a skilled fencer and a man almost as depraved as he was, Blaise couldn't just rush into things headfirst. That would only lead to immediate defeat and never-ending gloating from his cocky subordinate. Thus, Blaise said and did nothing as he waited… waited for his impatient subordinate to eventually get fed up with the lack of action and become sloppy.
And sure enough, after three minutes without a single clash of foils, Manfred let out a growl of irritation as he lunged his foil at his foe, allowing Blaise to swiftly sidestep out of the way before countering with a swift kick to the 'perfect' prosecutor's groin. After falling onto his side, letting out a mighty scream of agony on the way down, Manfred was left completely vulnerable as Blaise tapped the tip of his foil against his foe's exposed chest.
"I win!" The Chief Prosecutor sneered, blowing on the tip of his foil like a cowboy would his gun.
"Objection! That didn't count!" Manfred hissed through clenched teeth, groaning as he was still wracked with pain.
"Oh, I beg to differ, von Karma." Blaise smirked as he played with his lighter. "Y'see, the aim of the game was to tap your opponent's chest, and that's just what I did. Ergo, I won the game."
"No, you didn't!" Manfred snarled. "You're supposed to tap your opponent's chest in an even match of skill, not through foul play! Tell him, Gant!"
"Sorry Manny, I've gotta side with Blaisie on this one." The Chief of Police stated.
"What! Have you gone mad?!" Manfred yelled as he finally recovered enough to get back on his feet.
"Well, I did say that anything goes…" Gant replied as he fiddled with his hair.
"He kicked me in the crotch!" Manfred angrily retorted.
"Y'know, if you didn't wanna get kicked in the crotch, you should have worn a cup." Blaise chimed in.
"Oh, so do you wear cup underneath your normal clothes?" Manfred asked with crossed arms.
"As a matter of fact, I do." Blaise smugly replied with a toothy grin to match. "Y'see, with all the people I screw over on a daily basis, I can't afford not to wear one. But y'know, I'm a nice guy, so I'm willing to give you another shot to claim victory with a rematch- sans crotch shots. If you can beat me, we can forget your little defeat and watch Citizen Kane. Sound good to you?"
"Showing mercy? You're slipping, Debeste." Manfred stated with sinister glee and a finger waggle.
"Alright, round two! Fight!" Gant exclaimed.
Unlike the previous match, Blaise didn't hesitate for a moment this time as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of salt, which he proceeded to throw right in his opponent's eyes.
"My eyes!" Manfred wailed in pain, his foil dropping to the ground as he pressed his palms against the afflicted area.
"And with that…" The Chief Prosecutor tapped the tip of his foil against his opponent's chest. "I win."
"Seriously, Debeste?! You still carry around loose salt?!" Manfred roared, removing his hands from his face to flash his childhood friend a death glare with bloodshot eyes.
"You never know when you'll need pocket salt, von Karma." Blaise nonchalantly replied. "Wanna go another round?"
"No, I have something else in mind." Manfred coldly replied as he returned his foil to its proper rack.
"And that is…?" Blaise questioned.
The 'perfect' prosecutor didn't respond as he walked past both of his childhood friends on his way to the room's exit.
"von Karma?" Blaise repeated, this time with the tiniest bit of apprehension in his voice.
Once again, the veteran prosecutor was silent as he left the room.
"von Karma!" Blaise yelled as he and Gant chased after their friend.
When Blaise and Gant caught up to Manfred, they found their friend standing in the living room holding the Demolition Man DVD with his free hand.
"von Karma, what the hell are you doing with my Demolition Man?" Blaise snarled, a large pillar of flame erupting from his lighter.
"This." The 'perfect' prosecutor stated with a sinister grin as he dropped the DVD to the ground before slamming the bottom of his cane right on the center of the box, causing the disk inside to break with a loud cracking noise. "What do you say to that, Debeste?"
"Well, if that's how you want this to go down." Blaise growled, quickly snatching the Citizen Kane DVD and snapping both the box disk in half by swiftly bringing it down on a raised knee.
"You fool! Now what are we supposed to watch?!" Manfred snapped with crossed arms as he squeezed his right bicep.
"C'mon, Willy! Big circles, buddy, big circles! Big circles! Big circles, buddy, big circles!" Jesse joyfully stated with a voice filled with vigor as he ran around the tank his killer whale friend was swimming in as Free Willy played on Manfred's HD television.
"Isn't Jesse and Willy's friendship just the most touching thing you've ever seen, Blaisie?" Gant asked with a grin, looking over to his right to see the Chief Prosecutor sitting next to him slumped back on the couch with a scowl on his face.
"F*#%&$ whale…" Blaise grumbled under his breath as he took a cigarette out of the pack he was storing in his coat, using his lighter to light it up before taking a deep drag from the sin stick and exhaling a cloud of black smoke into the air like an angry dragon.
"Debeste, you know I don't like you smoking in my house." Manfred objected, prompting the Chief Prosecutor to take another drag from his cigarette, turn to his right, and blow the smoke right in his subordinate's face.