This one is a little silly, hopefully not in a bad way!

Ema

(For Gravaja Umbros and anonymous reviewer)

I have a confession to make...

You know how people have all these emotional stories about how they got started on an addiction? Like, "my mom died, so I became an alcoholic", or "my dad left me, so now I can't stop drinking orange soda because it was his favourite", or "I lost my attorney's badge after being falsely accused of forging evidence, so now I drink far too much grape juice", or even "I'm German, so I'm addicted to being a fop"? Yeah. I don't have one of those.

I'm serious! There's nothing to tell!

What?

Oh, fine. If I must.

My first bag of Snackoos were chocolate flavoured, and a present from my sister while I was studying for my forensic science exam, which was a pretty stressful time in my life. Those lovely sugar-coated chocolate-flavoured puffs of sugar got me through the stress. Every time it got too much I'd reach for a couple and snack away to calm down, and they did help. Tasted good, too.

I failed the first mock test, so I threw myself into studying even harder. The first bag I ever purchased for myself were as a cheer-up thing, a consolation prize in the knowledge I'd do better next time. Hesitating at the shelf, I figured I'd purchase two more bags - I was going to need them.

You can see where this is going. Every time I failed, I bought more. They helped keep me calm, give me something to do with my hands without engaging my brain - help me chill out. But then I failed the final exam and all hell broke lose.

I cried for days, apparently, though I think Lana is exaggerating. I couldn't have sulked in my bedroom, not me, not a twenty-one year old, fully grown woman. Assuming I did, though, I'm sure you can imagine the first thing I went for after my little strop. It was Lana who suggested that I go over to the US, try there. Why not, I figured? And there were positions open in Los Angeles, exactly where I'd always dreamed of being, back home. And - I can admit it, I guess - I was kind of excited. Now, maybe, when I passed, I'd get to see him again, and help solve cases with my forensic evidence.

I failed. They made me a detective. It left a sour feeling in my gut, despite Lana's pride - "following in my footsteps, let's hope you do a better job than I did!" - because, well, I didn't want to be a detective. And then I found out about Phoenix Wright's disbarment. That...wasn't exactly the happiest day of my life. I think I got through about twenty bags that afternoon and night. The next morning, I was out of them, so I went without any form of defence to meet my boss, the prosecutor, the next day. Prosecutor Klavier Gavin. I'd seen a trial or two featuring his brother, Kristoph. He was a dapper man, polite and well-mannered and reserved from what I'd seen. The prospect cheered me somewhat, that I'd have a boss that knew what he was doing if he was anything like his brother.

"Come in," he called when I knocked. I entered, and he swung round on his chair, and I had just enough time to be dazzled by a lot of glimmer before my fate was sealed. "Ah! Welcome, welcome, Fräulein Detective! They did not warn me about your beauty!"

"...what?" I demanded. "I don't think that's appro-"

He laughed at me then. "No worries, Fräulein. I say that to all the ladies. I assume you're a hard worker? Because I have quite a few cases that need looking at...and I don't want to."

That was the first night I ordered Snackoos online in bulk. That fop has been plaguing me ever since, and the more time I spend around him, the more I eat. It's not out of unacknowledged love or anything - trust me, I considered that route and it definitely wasn't. I've never met someone so bloody irritating.

But it's not because of him. It's not because of anyone. At the end of the day, I eat Snackoos for one reason.

...they're just really tasty.

Reviews~