The Wright Anything Bakery

Part Three

A Scientific Solution

"I can't even describe how awful—"

"Wait," she cocked her head to one side nibbling a Snackoo, "You lost me at the part about helping raise a 'ton of money', I can't seem to imagine a 'ton' of money—except that's it's an awful lot of money…"

Apollo looked at her for a moment in shocked silence and then rubbed the back of his head, "I'm talking about maybe a grand."

"A thousand dollars!"

"I mean all things considered," Apollo said.

"What do you need a thousand dollars for, again? I thought the shoes were already paid for?"

"Yeah but we're going to pay the money back," Apollo said, "It isn't right to accept a gift like that from someone you barely know."

"Yes, but isn't it kinda rude to pay back the money for a gift that was freely and generously given?"

"Um," Apollo had to stop and think, "You know, I'm not sure. I guess I never focused much on studying etiquette…"

"I wonder what thousand dollar shoes look like?"

Apollo suddenly realized they'd been standing at the grocery store entrance pondering their dilemma and still had to find Trucy. He grabbed Ema by the wrist and pulled her along. They left a Chocolate Snackoo trail from the front entrance through the bakery and down the condiments aisle.

Apollo stopped and looked around. He couldn't remember the last time he went grocery shopping. Mister Wright usually took care of that with Trucy.

Ema whipped out a note pad, "Let's see, shoes like that must be very stylish and durable, but comfortable and functional at the same time. The rest of the suit has to be the same way. I'm not sure how you calculated the cost-benefit ratios for those shoes—but that would make the matching suit astronomical in price."

"Ema, let's just find Trucy and get out of here."

"I'd say that was a reasonable hypothesis—Apollo!"

He was grasping her by the elbow and tugging her along. Canned food. Cereal. Soft drinks…

"I think we must've missed the baking aisle… Did you see her when we went past—Ema?"

"I might as well grab a couple of bags of Snackoos while we're here since—"

"Check," Phoenix said to the pair sitting at the table in front of him. The man reached across the table to cut the deck. Phoenix met his eye directly as he took up both halves of the deck and shuffled them together and then dealt—first to the man, who was sitting to his left, and then to the woman and then himself. One card at a time with a loose deck.

"They said you had a dealer," the woman said.

"Yes, we used to have a dealer," Phoenix said as he looked at his cards in his hand and reordered them, "But we got into it over some… trouble… last year."

"I see," his female opponent said, she smiled prettily at him—she hadn't changed one bit. "I don't suppose you'd hire on a replacement?"

Phoenix looked at her—did she want a job, or was she coming on to him? Maybe she was coming on to him because she wanted the job so badly. He looked at the man and frowned. The guy was still shuffling the cards in his hand making a face that clearly said he wasn't happy with his hand.

Phoenix nodded politely at her, "You'll have to speak with the management about that. I just play the piano…"

The man shot Phoenix a worried look, "C-can I request that we reshuffle? I think that maybe the cards weren't shuffled properly because—well I don't tell you what cards I have in case you say no and I have to play with this hand…" His voice faded so it was nearly imperceptible, "I think I just gave away how bad my hand was…"

Phoenix eyed his own hand—it was terrible. Queen of clubs, Three of hearts; Two of diamonds; eight of spades; six of hearts… Ron still might win this—but then, nobody ever beat Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix bunched his cards together and lay them face first on the table and then dropped a chip in the pot. The woman met his eye shrewdly and then paid in.

"Trucy, either get the cake mix or the cake flour, but you don't need both," Apollo was starting to get flustered.

"But which is better?"

Apollo wanted to tell her that it wouldn't make a difference in her case—but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Plus, Ema would be helping and baking was kind of like science—right?

"We'd need to conduct cost-benefit analysis to best determine—"

"If you just get cake mix, you won't have to buy a lot of other things… Plus it'll be easier to make a cake from the mix, rather than trying to pull it together from scratch."

Ema poked her head into his and Trucy's discussion, "But then you can't go around telling everyone you made it from scratch. You can up the sale price if it's made from scratch."

"Well," Trucy turned the cake mix box over in her hands, "Can't I just say it's made from scratch anyway?"

"Oh one can tell," Ema said emphatically, "One can tell."

"I don't think it makes a difference when Trucy—" Apollo clamped his hands over his mouth. Trucy and Ema were both staring at him.

Ema threw a Snackoo at his head.

"It's getting late, Ema said, "besides, if you buy much more stuff, I won't be able to fit it in my car."

"Where's Trucy?"

Phoenix startled and swiveled in his chair to face the speaker. Then he smiled.

"I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

Edgeworth swept his bored stare over the other players at the table. But didn't move from where he was standing.

"Come on, have a seat," Phoenix said, "This is Ron and Desirée DeLite. Why were you asking about Trucy?"

"The manager," Edgeworth said studying the chair with apprehension before sitting, "I asked about you and he told me to tell you that Trucy wasn't here yet."

Phoenix looked at Ron and then Desirée. He grabbed Edgeworth's wrist and looked at his watch.

"I fold…" Phoenix said.

"NOOOOoooooo! PUHLEEEEEEEeeeease!"

Ron crumpled the cards in his hand and started sobbing into the table. Phoenix got up and tugged on his beanie. His expression set and determined. He fingered the locket around his neck and then headed for the stairs.

Edgeworth looked at Desirée, she met his eye for a moment and shrugged before smiling prettily at him. Edgeworth raised an eyebrow and she turned to console her husband. Edgeworth eyed the cards Ron had dropped and scattered on the table and then leaned to sneak a peek at Phoenix's discarded hand.

He gave a slow smile. Then he offered Desirée a small nod before following Phoenix out of the room.

Smoke poured out of the window. Phoenix gasped. Edgeworth pulled out his phone.

"What are you—?"

"I was going to call the fire dep—"

"This is much worse than that…" Phoenix put his head down solemnly and started up the building's front steps.

Edgeworth looked at his phone and hesitated before shoving it into his coat pocket.

"Wright," he said and quickened his steps to catch him up.

"Brace yourself, my friend…" Phoenix said.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Aww, Ema…

Phoenix: I'M GOING IN!

Edgeworth: OH MY GAWD!

No, just kidding…