The Wright Anything Bakery
Part Four
High Yield Low Overhead
"My, look at the time," Edgeworth said pointedly staring at his watch.
Phoenix had one hand on his beanie as he stared into the apartment, he still had yet to find his voice.
"I still have to walk the dog too," Edgeworth said, "Good Evening, Wright."
Phoenix didn't move, "Wha…?"
"Is that Mister Edgeworth?" Ema slammed her hand into Apollo's chest as she clawed her way out of the kitchen and slammed straight into Phoenix Wright. Edgeworth had disappeared.
Apollo frowned and then noticed the shocked expression on Phoenix's face.
"Mister Wright?"
"Justice," Phoenix said snapping out of his silent shock.
"I tried to stop her, sir!" Apollo's voice cracked a little.
Trucy was singing in the kitchen—something by the Gavinners—it might have been charming if it wasn't a Gavinner's song.
Ema looked at Apollo and jumped as if she'd only just realized he was still there.
"Apollo," she said, "I think we've made a very grave error in our calculations."
"Excuse me," Phoenix said and stepped through the door and squeezed between them, "Trucy!"
Trucy poked her face around the edge of the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. She had a bandana wrapped around her head to keep her hair back and mismatched oven mitts on her hands. There was a dab of flour on her nose and streaks of chocolate and jelly on her apron.
"Hi Daddy," she said cheerfully. She smiled innocently at him and Phoenix sighed.
"Ema," Apollo said and he took her by the elbow and pulled her away from the door, "What do we do now? Mister Wright's in the kitchen…"
"He'll be fine," Ema said, "He's tougher than he looks."
"Things are starting to get out of hand," Apollo said.
"Starting to? Things got out of hand when you let Trucy get him thousand dollar shoes! And we still have to raise money for the suit. You can't abandon her now, Apollo!"
Apollo wasn't even listening to her, his ears were trained on the kitchen. It was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Mister Wright?!"
No answer.
"Come on, Ema," Apollo grabbing her around her elbow, "Before it's too late!"
"Apollo—"
"Mister Wright?"
Trucy was waving a fan over his face her eyes wide and mouth pouting in concern.
Phoenix Wright was laid out on the floor. The offending cupcake still clutched in the fingers of his outstretched hand.
"Is he…" Apollo was afraid to say.
Tears were welling up in Trucy's eyes.
Phoenix…
Wright…
Ema looked at Apollo.
Then she looked at Trucy.
"Seriously, people?" Ema said and stepped on Phoenix's stomach with a sharp jabbing motion just below his ribs.
He sat up immediately and coughed up a few crumbly bits of the cupcake and then gasped for air. Ema kneeled beside him and rubbed his back.
He coughed a few more times and then nodded, he'd gone a very vivid shade of red.
"What happened Daddy?" Trucy asked. Her voice quivered with guilt and concern; she was still clutching the fan to her chest and staring wide-eyed—like she was afraid to touch him.
Phoenix only shook his head at her and forced a smile.
Apollo stared.
Ema crunched on her Snackoos.
Trucy finally broke the silence with a shuddering voice, "D-did my cupcake—?"
"No," Phoenix said and forced another smile, "No, Trucy. That cupcake was awesome—I… I think my throat was just dry…"
Apollo looked mortified. Phoenix grimaced.
"Are you okay, Mister Wright?"
"Do you want me to get you some grape juice, Daddy?"
"Yes, please…" Phoenix croaked.
Trucy brightened again and skipped out of the kitchen.
Phoenix looked at the cupcake he was still holding and glared at it with the most savage amount of hate anyone had ever seen in him before throwing it toward the open window. He missed and it hit the wall with a 'clack' like a bocce ball before dropping to the floor leaving a trail of pink icing and a shallow dent on the wall. Ema, Apollo and Phoenix had all been watching the cupcake with rapt attention and no small amount of dread.
He started to cough again. Ema looked over at Apollo.
She whipped out her notepad and went to study the dent on the wall.
Apollo grinned and shrugged and scratched the back of his head.
Ema returned suddenly and brought the end of a tape measure to Phoenix's forehead.
"Mmmnn Hmmmn…" she said.
Phoenix and Apollo both stared at her, dumbstruck.
"Based on the trajectory of the pastry," she said, "and the depth of the dent it left in the wall—while factoring variables in the strength of your pitching arm—I've deduced that that cupcake is inedible…"
Phoenix and Apollo remained dumbstruck—albeit—for different reasons.
"Ema," Apollo began. But he lost his train of thought.
"What are we going to do with all of these—cough—baked goods?" Phoenix said. His voice was still a little gravelly from his near death by choking.
"Can you in good conscience allow other people to eat them?" Apollo said, his tone raised and haughty with his sudden sense of altruism.
Phoenix looked a little angry all of a sudden, "How much did all of these ingredients cost?"
"Eh, Mister Wright," Apollo said tugging at his horn-like bangs, "Don't worry about that."
Phoenix made a face, "I don't see why Trucy shouldn't be allowed to sell this off to try and recoup the cost of ingredients… After all, people buy cigarettes and heroin…"
"Mister Wright!" Ema sounded horrified, "Heroin is illegal!"
"It doesn't stop people from buying it."
"Sooo…" Apollo said, "You want Trucy to sell these pastries and cakes to the unsuspecting populace?"
Phoenix stared at the piles of items already bagged and tagged for sale. There were several pyramids of cupcakes; mounds of cookies in little bags; cake pops tied in little bouquets; quick breads and brownies cut up and zip-locked—Trucy had been working so hard.
"I just want this stuff out of my apartment…" Phoenix said in a dazed monotone.
"But Mister Wright!" Apollo was shocked, "You can't let this get out on the streets—think of the children!"
"You can't make people eat this—" Ema started.
"I'm not saying you have to make anyone do anything," Phoenix said, "I don't care if anyone eats this stuff or not—but there's nothing wrong with letting folks take this stuff off our hands—for a small donation…"
"She does have amazing presentation…" Ema said tapping her chin with her pencil.
"This stuff looks good enough to eat," Apollo said.
"Tell me about it," Phoenix said and he stood up—he was still a little shaky from his ordeal.
"Daddy!" Trucy entered the door and Phoenix left the kitchen to greet her.
Ema looked at Apollo. He stared back.
"Once this gets out on the street," Apollo said cryptically, "Trucy will never bake in this town again."
Ema scribbled in her notepad. She paused to look at the accumulated baked goods.
"If we price these right," she said, "We might be able to this in one bake sale."
Apollo hung his head wearily, "By the time everyone gets paid off, will we still be able to buy a suit for Mister Wright?"
Ema stared at the baked goods again, counting their supply.
"What time is it?"
Apollo looked at his watch, "Almost seven…"
"We still have flour and sugar and most ingredients left," Ema said, "I can run over to the store for eggs or whatever if need be—even considering that—if we can keep Trucy baking for another three point seven hours, we'll be able to produce the supply we need to beat our overhead."
"Wha—?"
"Just trust me on this."
A/N: Thanks for reading! Think of the children!
(please review... please?)
I like Apollo and Ema, but I think her crush on Edgeworth is funny and incurable.
I had a dream (or maybe it was a nightmare) that Phoenix Wright died so that the franchise would officially become Apollo Justice… It was so awful…