At first, Miles Edgeworth was incredulous that this could ever be a suitable location to discuss such a thing as murder. It was a ridiculous notion; one that not only made no sense, but was also incredibly inconvenient. An hour afterwards, he was astonishingly certain that he had been absolutely right.
Why on earth did Mrs. Steele ask to meet him at Wackyworld's Orbital Coaster?
It was taking all of the mental energy that Edgeworth had to keep him there in that spot. Typical carnival music was blaring loudly out of the speakers, wasting valuable neurons in his brain by their eventual memorization of these mind numbing tunes. The only reason he could even hear the damned 'music' was because its decibel level was high enough to be just that bit louder than the hundreds of thousands of lemmings that were busy 'enjoying' themselves here.
Private vendors forever roamed around the park, peddling their idiotic wares. They consistently fell into two distinctive categories: The first contained brightly colored balloons, trinkets, books and clothing that all featured at least one licensed cartoon character upon them. The second was made up of food that, if sold at any other place in the world, would have already been confiscated, burned, and exorcised by whatever national health department happened to have jurisdiction.
The 'stores' around him were just extensions of these shabby little carts. They were filled to the brim with plush animals, dolls and toys designed to appeal to all customers who decided to enter (aside from him, of course). Every counter was packed, and Edgeworth winced each time he heard the cash register ringing up yet another charge. Every wall and every stand in these shops sold were so full of caricatured junk that Edgeworth, had he not known better, would have thought that the business was run by mere children.
And oh, the little devil children that ran through this 'park'!
Normally he would have been grateful for any excuse to not hear the whimsical tunes blaring from the carefully concealed audio devices around the place, but his only alternative, unfortunately, was the shrill crying of the munchkins as they moved from one plastic-filled cart ride to the next. Manners were nothing to them. They pushed, they shoved, they crowded their way to wherever it was they had decided to go, and battered and exhausted parents tried in vain to keep pace. Edgeworth, standing off to the side, was free of this sea of people, though the way it imitated a stampede of wild beasts irked him to a considerable degree. These people were capable of so much more than such an animalistic drive.
At the mark of his second hour of waiting (and the mark of when his rendezvous was an hour and a half late) Edgeworth sighed, put on the greatest scowl he could muster, and began to forge through the oncoming crowd. Strangely, like the Red Sea, they all parted to allow him passage.
It hadn't taken much to get from where he was to First Avenue, the street lined of stores filled with more of the same junk sold everywhere else. It was the first thing everyone saw and had to go through to get anywhere in the park from the gate. That meant that it hit any and all comers immediately with the cartoon merchandise and junk food. Foot traffic was flowing only opposite the direction Miles wished to go, yet his pervading aura of loathing for the place seemed to create an invisible bubble of space around him, much like a rock caught in rapids. This entire trip had, yet again, been a waste of time. Why couldn't that blasted woman pick a normal place, like his office, or her office, or, if he wanted to be really 'out there,' a café of some kind? At least, he reflected, not a single person had tried to strike up conversation during his stay in this miserable hell.
"Hu-hey, buddy! Turn that frown upside down, huh?"
He was sure of it now. Heaven and hell and all the powers that be hated him and would stop at nothing to see him suffer eternally.
Standing before him was a jolly kangaroo, the mascot of Wackyworld. 'Jumpy' was certainly living up to his name, as the man inside the suit hopped happily from one long, narrow, padded foot to the other. His body was large and fluffy, with a wide pouch around the midsection, out of which sprouted such an assortment of teeth-rotting sweets that any passing dentist would have fainted on the spot. The head was obnoxiously large as well; a long nose protruding from the base of the mask and adorned with two gigantic, bulging blue eyes. The crowning of this jolly fellow was covering his hands: Two boxing gloves, each with a little smiley face on the back of them, clapped together occasionally in falsified mirth.
It was the greatest disfigurement of nature he had ever seen.
"I prefer to present the truth rather than a fantasy illusion," Edgeworth snapped, "Perhaps it's a bad habit of mine, but it won't be one you'll change."
"Aw, gee whiz!" the giant kangaroo said in what was the most ungodly goofy voice the world had ever known, hopping merrily and irritatingly in Edgeworth's way, "Why can't we be friends, pal?"
Edgeworth started storming down one side of the lane. "Because you are an idiotic creature who is better off tormenting some other soul than my own!"
"Come on, buddy! Give me a big hug!" The great creature was relentless in its pursuit, and Edgeworth knew if he stopped, it would be a fate worse than death itself.
Edgeworth didn't like using underhanded tactics, but as his pace increased to escape the oncoming monster he realized that it was either a small piece of his honor or a large chunk of his dignity. "Look!" he called, pointing across the street, "A small cluster of children in need of product advertising!"
"Where?!" called the kangaroo, in a shockingly gruff and masculine voice, as he turned his head to see where the bounty would lie. As he did so, his limited vision lost sight of the oncoming lamppost, into which he collided most painfully. As Golaith fell before David, so did Jumpy fall, crashing to the ground in what was probably the world's most epic squeaky noise. Edgeworth almost went deaf from it.
Noting that his pursuer was laying stone cold on the floor, Miles took the opportunity to stand over his fallen prey. Kicking him a little bit to ensure his lack of awareness, Miles said two words that he felt were only appropriate for the situation.
"Take that."
Edgeworth smirked triumphantly over his trophy, overhearing a little demon exclaim, "Mommy! Mommy! Jumpy's dead!" Though he was not vengeful, he certainly was fond of revealing the truth of all things. As thus, the opportunity presented itself for him to kick the mask off and reveal the face of quite the unsuspecting Will Powers underneath.
As the children's mob ran from the giant man's unconscious face for fright, Edgeworth easily walked out of the gate and to his car. As he started up the engine and began to navigate the maze of automobiles, he sent one simple message to Mrs. Steele on his phone.
I object to your moronic locations. We may either discuss this matter privately at someplace more fitting or I will drag everything out of you, detail by painstaking detail, in the courtroom I much prefer the courtroom, but the choice is yours.
As he was writing it, the person driving in front of him spontaneously slammed on their brakes. Miles, registering it a second too late, ended up rear-ending the car in front of him. Growling at how great his day was going he opened the door and stared at the driver of the garishly green convertible ahead of him.
He should have been shocked, but after all that had happened in the past two days he was perfectly unsurprised with this. In the car was a woman, not older than twenty-five, with long metal-gray hair and a similarly colored suit on. She looked up at Miles in shock and surprise. "O-Oh! Mister Edgeworth! I'm sorry I'm late, I had to takeoutthetrashandthenmycatMittensgotsicksoIhadtotakehertothevetIwouldhavecalledbutmyphonewasdeadandthenthisrabbithoppedoutinfrontofmycarand…"
He left her in the middle of her rambling and got back into his sedan. Spinning the wheels 'round, he drove around the car and out of the lot, ignoring her protests while they still reached his ears. As he got onto the relative safety of the highway he leaned back in his chair and sighed a tired sigh.
A fine place to meet, indeed.