1:56 AM. Amaxing Fan Finction Inc. Headquarters.
Skyler: Don't dis my claims, maybe?
Zuko: Used it already.
Sky: The Sky's the limit on disclaimers?
Z: True, but… that doesn't have any potential usage now, does it?
Max: How about, 'My fan fic brings all the boys to the yard?'
Sky: But, like, this stuff isn't ours? Hey! Now that's something. Thanks, Max! (Flinches) MAX? When the hell…
Zuko: We all thought you were dead!
Max: (Checks pulse) Nope, still there. Guess I'm not dead yet.
Nathan: Like… where have you been? It's been almost a year!
Max: I was out…
(Blank stares)
Max: Like, in a coma, out.
(More blank stares)
Max: And by coma… I mean college.
Skyler: Then what's your excuse for the first two months of summer, huh?
Max: Work? I have needs, you know. Needs that require money.
Zuko: Are you at least going to finish this story before summer ends?
Max: I'll make no guarantees. But… I'll try. Kind of. Skyler? If you would?
Skyler: (Smiles slowly) With pleasure, sir.
Disclaimer: My fan fic brings all the boys to the yard
But like, this stuff isn't ours.
We could say so, but then we'd get charged
With a lawsuit… and that would kind of suck.
Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Turnabout
Chapter 2
It was a beautiful day in the city of Boston. The sun was bright as a yellow gobstopper, radiating candied goodness on the ground below. Birds were chirping away left and right, and a mild breeze was blowing from the sea, giving the air a slightly salty, but still pleasant feel.
It was a day like this that would make anyone in their right mind want to strut around their college campus with an enormous group of friends, throw a few Frisbees around and attempt to become completely intoxicated.
This was exactly what 'Yonkers' Doth planned to do. He had gathered a posse of ten or so friends (of course including his right-hand man, Aster) and had taken to wandering the campus aimlessly, occasionally complaining loudly how there was nothing to do.
This was all well and good… for a while. However, it soon occurred to Yonkers that you could only complain about a lack of things to do for so long before that, in itself, became boring, and you really were left with nothing to do. One or two of his friends had already sneaked away back to their rooms (because, at the very least, there was the internet to go on) and the rest seemed all too willing to follow suit.
This would not pass with the Yonkers Doth. And so he resorted to a pastime that, really, everyone at Boston University liked to do occasionally.
"Hey! Moore! Front and center!"
Chancellor, who even at 19 was still wearing his same outfit, rolled his eyes and face palmed, traipsing over to the crowd as slowly as his legs could carry him. "What do you want Yonkers?" he groaned.
"I want to know when you're coming out of the closet, buddy." Yonkers sneered. "You see, we've got a bet going on, and my time period is coming up pretty soon." He smiled maliciously. "Don't worry, we won't treat you any differently once you do it."
"Alright, look…" Chancellor said, annoyed. "I know that it's pretty hysterical that I have a woman's face. Ok? That's the joke. Ha ha. I'm willing to play along, really, but not like this."
"What's wrong, are you ashamed or something?" Yonkers taunted.
"I can't be ashamed of something I'm not," Chancellor insisted. "And if I was then, no, I wouldn't be ashamed. So back off, alright?"
That last part may have sounded inoffensive. But this was Boston U. And the first rule of Boston U, in Chancellor's time, anyway, was you do not tell Yonkers Doth, six foot eight, 260 pound (all muscle) Yonkers Doth to back off.
Yonkers was taken aback. The campus freak, telling him to go pound sand? Even if it wasn't much, he still had a reputation to uphold, especially in front of his 'posse'.
"I'm going to knock you to kingdom come, Moore," Yonkers said through gritted teeth, hands balled up in fists.
"Now, there's really no need to…" but Chancellor never finished. Because it's hard to talk when someone punches you in the jaw. Yonkers and his posse laughed and, with renewed purpose, strode off to enjoy the beautiful day.
Chancellor, down on the ground clutching his body for the third time that month, sighed. Can it really only be my second year here? Good Gravy, something's got to give eventually, don't you think?
"Are you ok?" he heard a voice call from above.
"Chance!" Cassie yelled from the passenger seat of the Corvette. "Are you ok?"
"What… oh, yeah!" Chance said snapping from his thoughts and swerving to avoid an oncoming tractor-trailer. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've been acting really weird ever since you decided to take this interview." Cassie said, genuine concern in her eyes. "And that, in itself, kind of freaked me out, you know? I mean you say you don't do interviews and all of a sudden you get in the car and start driving towards the Picayune? Really? Are you that indecisive? I always knew you were a little airheaded and, admittedly, kind of flaky, but… this is strange even for you, you know?
"Three," Chance commented automatically. "Rants don't really work when you're not angry."
"You're avoiding the question," Cassie pressed.
"You should already know the answer," Chance commented. "Something from the past that I've mentioned before that's suddenly made it's way into my present? For someone who claims to be able to break the fourth wall, you're doing a very poor job of using the Court Record tab in the upper left corner."
"And what's that supposed to reference?" Cassie asked, clueless. "And what do you mean… oh!" Her eyes widened. "This reporter we're going to see… Melissa MacDonald. Is she the same one as?"
"That's my girl," Chance smiled. "My idiotic girl, but, my girl, nonetheless."
"Funny," Cassie said, not amused. "So tell me, who exactly is Ms. MacDonald?"
Melissa MacDonald was a pretty, but not striking girl that nearly no one hated. She was athletic, but not a star, theatrical, but not a showstopper, and quite intelligent, though usually only held around a B+ average. One could say the most extraordinary thing about her was how she could manage to be better than most people at just about anything, but never truly master a single craft.
She had been with Yonkers and crew during the incident, and had been the quiet, nearly inaudible voice in the back saying: "just leave him alone. That's enough." Now that the rest of the posse was laughing and strolling away, she walked over to Chancellor, kneeling down and grabbing him gently by the shoulder. "Are you ok?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Chancellor brushed off, using his jacket sleeve to soak up the blood seeping from his mouth. "I'm more worried about Doth, really. I hope one day, soon, he'll realize there's a world outside of Yonkers, you know?"
Melissa laughed. "Hello Dolly, right? Michael Crawford would be proud."
Chancellor's heart skipped a beat. "You… you actually got that?"
"Well… yeah?" Melissa confirmed. "I mean… who wouldn't get a reference like that?"
Chancellor laughed. "I've been saying that for a year now and you're the first person to laugh. Shows you why I'm so popular, right?"
"I guess, but…" Melissa paused for a moment. "If the people around here don't get that even after seeing Wall-E then I can't say much for their intelligence, can I?"
"That was blunt," Chance laughed.
"So was Yonkers' fist, from the looks of it," she said tenderly, taking Chance's face lightly and looking him over. "Oh… come on. We need to get you to the nurse… no, actually…" She thought for a minute. "My room is closer. I've got some bandages there, that's really all you need."
"Wow, thanks," Chance smiled. "But you know, you could at least buy me dinner first."
Melissa looked him in the eyes and smiled. "That really wasn't the right set up for that joke," she scolded.
"Yeah… I wasn't feeling it either, really," Chance said, getting up from the ground and following his new favorite person.
Boston Picayune.
Desks. Computers. People bustling about. Papers flying everywhere, and managers demanding articles by deadline. Needless to say, the offices of the Picayune didn't strive to break any tired cliché's about news rooms, and the paper's secret slogan: 'Nothing sells better than the same story retold" showed that its employees knew it.
So it came as quite a shock, to all parties involved, that Chancellor's arrival was such a big deal.
"I love your trials!" a female reporter said, springing from her desk. "They're so… exciting! Fresh! Motivating!" She shook Chance's hand vigorously. "I run three miles every time you get a Not Guilty! I've lost twenty-five pounds!"
"That's… great…" Chance said, inching away slowly. "I've got an interview scheduled with Ms. MacDonald, you don't happen to know…"
"Of course I know! Anything for you, Chance!" she said, bouncing up and down in a very Streng-type manner. "It's…"
"Third door to your left in that hallway!" A man chimed in quickly. "And remember that it was Bob Daniels who told you, Chance!"
"Thunder stealer!" the bouncing girl yelled. The distraction was all the time Chance needed to sneak away… or so he thought. The girl whipped her head around the room as soon as she noticed his absence and Chancellor, inches from the mouth of the hallway and freedom, dove behind a potted plant to keep from being seen.
"Is it working?" he whispered to Cassie who was standing guard.
"Well… she's pouting… now she's yelling at Mr. Daniels and… ah!" She nodded. "Yup, she's going back to work now. Begrudgingly as all hell, but…" she smiled. "You should be fine."
"Good," Chance sighed. "Now let's go and… ack!"
"Stooping behind a potted plant doesn't befit a celebrity, Mr. Moore," the woman who was now kneeling in front of him said. She fiddled with her large black glassed. "Terribly sorry for the fright. Barbara Hornette. Investigative journalist." She stuck out her hand and Chance, warily, shook it.
"Charmed," Chance said with a forced smiled. "I've uh… got an interview to go to, so…"
"Only a moment of your time, please." Hornette assured. "Trust me, you're in good hands." She smiled, taking a pencil from her ear and jabbing it forward like a stinger. "These keen reporting skills have covered 9/11, Michael Jackson's death, the Franco-Hispanic Slaughters, the Borginian Rhapsody, and even the opening of the bridge across the Bering Straight!"
"There is no bridge across the Bering Straight," Cassie pointed.
"But who do you think has already procured exclusive rights to the story, eh?" She smiled broadly. "That's right. Me. So as you can see, Mr. Moore, you're working with the best."
"Yeah, but I already promised an interview to…"
"She's in a different section of the paper, and I guarantee she won't be asking the same questions as I will. For instance…" she held up a pad, flipping through its pages rapidly. "Here's one. How are you able to keep the entire Boston legal system at your beck and call?"
"I still don't feel right answering any… wait, what?" Chancellor did a double take. "And just what do you mean by that?"
"Well… I've been going through some case files. Well, all of them, actually. And I've noticed that every judge you've gone before has wanted to hold you in contempt. But hasn't. Also, in the case of Ne Chrome vs. Massachusetts, you were able to procure convicting evidence by physically assaulting a witness. Which would land any other lawyer in jail… but not you. Why is this?"
"I… uh… well…" Chance sputtered.
"Well, Mr. Moore?" Hornette pressed. "We're waiting."
"I'm Kaiser Soze in real life, ok?" It was the first thing Chance could think of.
Hornette stared blankly ahead, not believing the answer she'd just been given. "It's true," Cassie chimed in. "No judge will ever raise a hand to him because if they do, he can have their wives and children beaten, murdered, and burned by the time the trial ends. Hell, the only reason I'm even following around is so that he won't kill my father. He said something bad about Chancellor once…" her voice trailed off. "And now he can't cut the fingernails off of his right hand…"
"So there you have it," Chance concluded with a smile. "I'm an incredibly handsome master of all evil. Now can I go give my real interview now?"
Hornette furrowed her brow, and then jabbed her pencil in the air again. "I'll get this story yet, Moore. Just you wait." And with that, she stomped off.
"That was kind of harsh, don't you think?" Chance said with a tinge of regret on his voice.
"Nah, she was asking for it," Cassie affirmed. "I mean, did you see what she was wearing?"
"Yup," Chance nodded. "Terrible. Though yellow and black vertical stripes do have a slimming effect," he noted.
"I somehow knew that would be the first thing I heard you say," came a soft, sweet voice from behind.
Chancellor smiled. Finally, he thought. We get to the good part. Things are starting to look up.
Finally. Chancellor thought as he held the icepack over his jaw. Things are starting to look up. Although it was a tad difficult to form words, he and Melissa had been locked in conversation for nearly five hours, with no indication of stopping any time soon. He was blown away by the amount of references she could pick up on… hell, she was even throwing some new ones his way, which only made him like her all the Moore.
"Alright… let's try this one…" Melissa said playfully. "Michael Jackson…"
"Died on the same say as Farah Faucet…" Chance chimed in.
"Which is a kitchen appliance that serves water…"
"Which is what you should drink if you're consuming a lot of alcohol…"
"Which is still banned in some small, Midwestern counties…"
"Much like dancing…"
"Whose ban was a major plot point in the movie Footloose…"
"WHICH STARRED KEVIN BACON!" Chance shouted triumphantly (too loud, actually, as a sharp pain surged through his jaw afterwards. "Though, regrettably, that's… actually seven steps."
"Isn't there any way we can trim it down?" Melissa asked, legitimately concerned.
"Not without taking time out of our conversation to surf the internet…" Chance shrugged. "And that, and this is a first actually, is something I don't want to do, you know?"
Melissa blushed, her cheeks turning near the same color as her auburn hair. "Say… Chance?"
"Yes, Melissa?"
"How's your jaw feeling? Can you move it at all?"
This is one of the most see-through pick-up lines ever but… hell, I don't care. "I can move it up and down a bit, yeah."
She smiled. "Alright then… close your eyes. I've got a surprise for you."
So clichéd… yet I actually don't mind. Who'd have thought this day would turn out so well?"
That was when he felt a large lump enter his mouth. He gagged at first, then melted, opening his eyes quickly. "Lord have mercy… what was that you just fed me?"
"A chocolate covered strawberry… they're my favorite," Melissa smiled. "Did you like it?"
"Like it?" Chance almost shouted. "I think I'm in love."
"Well don't go stealing any now," she said mock-sternly. "And don't try wearing any of my flavored chap stick either, you hear?"
"Alright, alri… wait." He looked at Melissa. "Why are you even worried about the chap stick? There's no way it can taste like the real…"
But he was wrong. Because when her lips touched his, it was a near identical sensation. Amazing, glorious, and real.
After five minutes, they broke apart, and Melissa, blushing even redder, asked innocently "well? Did you like it?"
"Like it?" Chance responded, a dumb, dazed smile plastered across his face. "I think I'm in love."
- (Those only here for the story, stop here)
WHOA WHOA WHOA, Chancellor has a backstory? Really? When the hell did you decide to throw that one in there, Max?
Well, to be honest, always. You didn't think I'd plop down a tire-chain wearing, woman-faced, cho-cov-straw worshipping freak attorney in front of you an say 'meh. That's how it is. No explanations.' Did you?
All right, maybe you did. And knowing me, I have to be honest; I don't blame you. But I'm going to tell you right now, Chancellor is the way he is today for a reason. Several reasons, actually. And by the end of case five, all shall be revealed… probably. Am I even doing a case five? That'd be a full-length game…
Anyway, on to the Character Profiles!
In-depth: Melissa MacDonald
I obviously can't give a whole lot away beyond physical description and personality, seeing as, as you've probably guessed, the 'Melissa MacDonald incident' is… kind of important to the plot. But I will answer any and all of your purely shallow and inane questions.
- You didn't really describe her much. What gives?: Melissa is one of those characters whose defined more by personality and actions than looks. But if you must know, her red hair extends just a tad beyond the shoulders, and she's actually quite tall. Say around… 6' 4"? Chance is the one who has to stand on his toes, is what I'm getting at here.
- OMG! A female character! Must… know… measurements… : You're sick, you know that? 30-26-26. (Am I sick for answering? And are these measurements even realistic?)
Favorite song? Please?: CCR's 'Have you ever seen the rain?', actually. Very good taste, if you ask me.
Did Chance and her used to date or something?: Did you… honestly not get that from how the chapter ended? Yes. Good Gravy, you're slow.