Gumshoe

Today must be my lucky day! I double checked the article from the newspaper, ordered after I had gotten a very rare raise, not believing my eyes. But the advertisement hadn't changed.

Are you tired of being looked down upon because you can't sing? Now you have the opportunity to shine! Call 323-224-8864 and sing "Baby Chick Ballad" by the famous band Birdwing as obnoxiously as possible. Whoever can sing it in the most awfully and annoyingly wins the prize of $250. The contest only runs on April 1st, so call in now!

I was so excited; that was my favorite song by what used to be my favorite band, before a case took me up close and personal to the members. Plus, Mr. Edgeworth always threatened to cut my salary whenever I sang it.

I really could have used that money, pal. Maggie's birthday was coming up soon, and I wanted to get her something nice. But I was already living off instant noodles again, and my electricity was barely paid for.

I took a minute to make sure I remembered all the lyrics before calling the number and singing away.

"I'm still just a baby chick, but one day I'll be a fine rooster with a cockscomb!" I screamed the song with all my heart and soul. When I finished, I waited for a reply. After a few moments of silence, I asked, "How did I do?"

"Achtung! What the heck was that?!"

Klavier

I had been sleeping in that morning, glad to have finally finished my latest case, when I was abruptly awoken by my ringing phone. I yawned, picking it up, and was about to greet the caller when my ears were assaulted by some awful noise. It took me a minute to realize that the person on the other end was not imitating a dying cat, but was, in fact, singing.

And of all the songs they could have picked, it was my least favorite song by the band who had back stabbed us, and tried to ruin the Gavineers.

I sat through the few minutes of torture, holding on to the knowledge that it would end soon. When it was finally over, I moaned a little and rubbed my poor, ringing ears as I heard him ask, "How did I do?"

I took a moment to pause before shouting, "Achtung! What the heck was that?!"

After a second, he replied, "Isn't there a contest, pal? To see who can sing 'Baby Chick Balad' the best?"

"What on earth are you talking about? Where did you get my phone number?!" As a superstar, I always had to be careful about giving out my contact information so I wouldn't be spammed by fangirls.

"It was the article in the newspaper, pal. On page B3 from this morning." At this moment, I recognized the confused, somewhat desperate voice of Detective Gumshoe and relaxed a little. Mein Gott, I didn't realize he was such a bad singer. I decided to keep this knowledge to myself, however, to save him even more embarrassment.

I reluctantly got out of bed and grabbed said paper from my doorstep. After leafing through, I saw he was right.

"How…? I didn't put that in there!" My anger was giving way to confusion and annoyance as I pondered how and why someone did this.

"Does this mean there's no contest, pal?" He sounded so crestfallen that I felt terrible for disappointing him.

"No, there's not."

I heard a long, sad sigh over the phone before he spoke. "Just my luck. I needed that money...my girlfriend's birthday is soon and I can barely afford to eat…" Now I felt even worse. I'd heard the rumors of his frequently cut pay, but never realized it was this low.

"Chin up, ja? Perhaps your boss will give you a raise today." Maybe I could do something about that later…

"...Hey, you're right! Thanks, pal! Have a nice day!"

"You too." He hung up after that, and I was glad I could give him some encouragement.

I yawned, realizing I still had a while before I had to be up, so I went back to sleep.

Later, as I was leaving Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth's office after talking to him about Detective Gumshoe, my phone vibrated. I almost passed it off as another eager contestant, I'd gotten about 25 already, before I realized it was in the rhythm for a text rather than a phone call. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Herr Forehead, and it pointed out the obvious cause of my problems. It read, "April Fool's!" ...Oh. I gave a sardonic laugh. Of course.

I sent my reply as I walked back down to my office. "So you're the one behind all this?" I tried to focus on work while waiting for an answer, but I kept periodically glancing at my phone.

After a couple hours, it finally vibrated again. "What are you talking about? By the way, I didn't send that last text, someone stole my phone."

"Who? And I've been getting calls all day. Check page B3 of the newspaper."

This time his reply only took a few minutes. "Oh...Ouch. And I dunno who stole it. Maybe they're behind it?"

"Maybe."

I looked down at the case in front of me. I had picked it up during my discussion with Mr. Edgeworth, one that had come in early this morning: an April Fool's prank gone wrong.

I sighed. Can I please just be done with this holiday?

Author's Note - Sorry this took so long...I wasn't intending for life to catch up to me. ;) I think it's going to be a while between updates now...But I'll try to aim for every week or two. :D

Also, I totally forgot about the disclaimer! So, I officially don't own Ace Attorney. :)

Birdwing is actually from the Investigations manga. If you haven't read it, go check it out! The Phoenix ones are amazing, even if the translation of the Edgeworth ones aren't quite all that great. But it's still more Ace Attorney stories. ;D

If you haven't already guessed, this is an Ace Prankster chapter. :)

Oh, and poor Gummy gets his raise, and it's not an April Fool's prank. ;D