Rei Ryghts: Ace Attorney
Turnabout of the Mobile Tank
by Derald Snyder
Interlude
April 17, 8:17 AM
Lowee Basilicom
Blanc's Office
Blanc was at her computer, checking her e-mail like she always did in the morning, when a certain e-mail from yours truly caught her attention... "Message forwarded from the author? Well, guess I better read it then... must be pretty damn important to interrupt writing this fan fiction..." She opened the message and began to read:
"Blanc, stop being so down about your breast size. First, Vert can't be natural, not without destroying her centre of mass and spine. Second, there are people who actually prefer smaller size. To be brutally frank, you are nicely grabable compared to those like Thunder Tits"
-DaToskin from FanFiction net
The flat-chested CPU pursed her lips as she read the message, before hitting the 'Reply' button and typing:
'Dear Mr. DaToskin:
Thunder Tits isn't natural? Gee, thanks for telling me what I already knew, dumbass. And yes, I'm aware there are people who prefer more petite ladies... otherwise I wouldn't have nearly as many followers in my nation. But you have to understand, out of all the goddesses in Gamindustri, only my two sisters are flatter than I am, and they've got the excuse of being kids... and before you say 'Neptune', take a look at her HDD form before you open your pie-hole.
...Look, I understand you're trying to cheer me up, and I admit being kinda flattered you would want to grab my chest instead of Vert's... maybe I'll forward your message to her as a "take that" of sorts. I suppose I would be OK with you groping me... but only once. Any more and I'll have to bring my hammer down on your perverted cranium. So don't get greedy!
Sincerely, Blanc, CPU of Lowee.'
She then hit the 'Send' button, before turning back to the fourth wall. "Anything else you need from me?"
No, ma'am, but there is one more thing before the story proper resumes...
April 17, 9:25 AM
District Court
Prosecutor Lobby No. 4
Rhoam Daphnes ruffled through his papers in his briefcase, making sure everything was in order... after all, it was his first time back in the courtroom in a while, and he wanted to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything due to his old age... just then, his cell phone vibrated in his chest pocket.
(Who could be calling me at this time of day?) Pulling out his phone, he flipped it open before pressing the TALK button. "Hello?"
"If I've told you once Daphnes, I've told you a thousand times... IT'S SAMSON! BARTHOLOMEW J. SAMSON! NOT SAMPSON! S-A-M-S-O-N! NO 'P'! JUST SAMSON, YOU FAT SENILE OLD FOOL!" *click*
Rhoam blinked several times, before closing his phone, putting a pinky finger in his ringing ear. "...really, Bartholomew? That was the best insult you could come up with...?" He subconsciously checked his belly. "I'm not fat, I'm big-boned. There *is* a difference, you know..."
To be continued...