A/N: Ages of the characters introduced in this chapter:
Adrian: 14
Aura: 18
Simon: 9
Maya: 9
With that said, enjoy the chapter!
"Papa, can we please settle on a restaurant already? I am starving!" Franziska pouted with a scowl on her face, crossing the arms as she hunched over in the back of her father's Mercedes, the family's vehicle of choice when they wished to attract as little attention as possible.
"Don't be so melodramatic, Franziska. You're not starved, you're peckish. To be starving would entail that you have not eaten in days- a fact that is quickly disproven by the turkey sandwich that you helped yourself to before we left the mansion." Edgeworth coolly responded, earning him a smack from Franziska's riding crop.
"Stop being such a foolish know-it-all, Miles Edgeworth! You're my little brother, not my dictionary!" Franziska growled.
"'Foolish know-it-all'? That's an oxymoron, Franziska. Maybe if you'd actually calm down and carefully think about what comes out of your mouth, I wouldn't have to serve as a sentient dictionary." Edgeworth calmly retorted, earning himself another lash on the shoulder.
"Calm down? Calm down?! How can I 'calm down' when Papa's been driving us around in circles for the last 30 minutes in an attempt to find a restaurant? Maybe you should calm up!" Franziska yelled as she pounded her seat with her fist before giving her 'little' brother another taste of good ol' Mr. Ridding Crop.
"Perhaps it would be in both of your best interests to just shut up." Manfred growled, his fists clenching the steering wheel with white knuckles, his cold gaze remaining focused on the road ahead of him.
"But Papaaaa…! It's six o'clock and I haven't eaten since 11 this morning! Can we please just stop somewhere?" Franziska whined.
"'Stop somewhere'…" Manfred parroted in a sense of disbelief. "von Karma's don't just 'stop somewhere', girl. We only go to top-of-the-line restaurants where the best wine available isn't from your mouth."
Edgeworth softly cleared his throat and raised his finger. "In Franziska's defense, sir, this is a vacation town, not the Champs-Elysees. You're not exactly going to find caviar and escargots in a sea of restaurants the likes of Big Willy's and Taco King."
Manfred slowly turned his head to glare at his adopted son. "You know, Miles, when you talk back to me like that, you remind me a lot of your father. So refresh my memory, how did he die?"
Reminded of the pain of that horrible day, Edgeworth's shoulders slumped over as he let out a heavy sigh. "He was shot like a dog by a criminal who got away, sir."
Correct." Manfred smirked, basking in his victory over both Gregory and his son. "And what led to his downfall?"
"He foolishly decided to go against you in a futile attempt at victory, disregarding your perfect evidence and witnesses." The adolescent sullenly stated, as if he had been through this exact line of questioning many times prior to this.
"Exactly. Never, under no circumstances, defy my logic- and that goes for you as well, Franziska. For if you challenge my logic, you will be murdered when you are most vulnerable and your killer will escape, never to face justice for their crime. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." Edgeworth and Franziska stated in unison.
"Good…" Manfred returned his focus to the road. "Now make yourselves useful and help me find a quality restaurant."
"How about that one?" Franziska asked, pointing to a brown brick building adjacent to a sign with a bushel of neon purple grapes on it that read 'Grape Vineyard'.
"Grape Vineyard?" Edgeworth snorted in derision. "Do we look like uncultured, slovenly men who haven't seen their feet in over a decade or shallow women whose only source of exercise is chasing down the ice cream truck to you?"
"My thoughts exactly. Keep searching." Manfred coldly stated.
"Alright… How about there?" Franziska asked, pointing to a log cabin-esque building adjacent to a sign that had a pig wearing a chef's outfit holding a plate of ribs in one hand and giving a thumbs-up with the other that read 'Porker's Ribs'.
"Have you ever tried to get steak sauce out of a cravat, Franziska? It's a nightmare and I'm not in the mood to deal with whoever does our laundry's complaining."
"The servant who handles our laundry at the Los Angeles mansion's name is Gertrude, sir." Edgeworth chimed in, earning another glare from his mentor.
"Did I ask for that information, boy?"
"No, sir." Edgeworth responded without a moment of hesitation.
"Then why did you feel the need to foolishly tell me?"
"Well, I figured that you simply forgot her name and that it wouldn't hurt to remind you of it for future reference."
"Bah!" Manfred sneered. "I do not forget facts, Miles; I merely choose not to remember trivial ones. For what use would it be for me to recall the name of someone so replaceable and beneath me? We are the von Karma- all other life on this planet, with the obvious exception of Santa, is beneath us, and to allow your mind to be clouded with thoughts of triviality and imperfection is to descend to their level. That's why I only bother to remember the names of three kinds of people: those who I can use, those who are consistent thorns in my side, and Santa because he, like us, has achieved perfection. This is the thinking that both you and Franziska must employ if you wish to become truly perfect."
"Yes, sir." Edgeworth and Franziska stated in unison.
"Now if you two want to prove your capabilities as my students, select the perfect restaurant. The first one to do so will receive a compliment."
"I can't do that, sir." Edgeworth stated with a cold look in his eyes and his arms crossed.
"And why is that, boy?"
Edgeworth uncrossed his arms, smirking as he waggled his finger. "Isn't it obvious, sir? How am I supposed to know what the perfect restaurant is if I don't know what kinds of food you're in the mood for?"
A toothy grin slowly spread across Manfred's face. "Always quick to pick out details, eh Miles… That's why you're my student." Among other reasons… "Given our current location, I'm willing to temporarily lower my standards to a decent hamburger. And remember, children, if it has a drive-thru, it has no quality."
A smirk spread across Franziska face. "Prepare your compliment, Papa, because I've found the perfect restaurant."
"Well, point it out." Manfred replied.
"There!" Franziska triumphantly proclaimed, her finger proudly pointing to a building that caused her adoptive brother to fight the urge to burst out in a fit of laughter and her father to flinch as his eyes bugged out.
Of all the restaurants Franziska could have pointed out, she had to choose that one… Melons, an eating establishment famous for their wide variety of melons: watermelons, cantaloupes, and the ones which belonged to the scantily cladded waitresses who jiggled in all the right places. So suffice to say, it was Blaise's favorite restaurant to drag Manfred and Gant to for birthday parties, lazy Friday evenings, and funerals for people who 'disappeared' for reasons which one could easily deduce after spending five or so minutes with the Chief Prosecutor. And after decades of having to watch Blaise undress young women with his eyes, and a bit with his hands, Manfred made an unspoken promise to never let Franziska anywhere near a Melons, lest the whorish tendencies of the waitresses poison his perfect daughter's mind and the hands of dirty men poison her below the waist. He also sought to never let Miles in such an establishment, either; not because he cared for the boy's health, but because the more exposure that the lad had to women, the more likely he'd be to get a date, and the more likely he was to get dates, the more likely he was to reproduce- and Manfred would be damned if he allowed for the vile seed of Gregory Edgeworth to be sewn!
"What's wrong, Papa?" Franziska asked, noticing that her father was as stiff as a board, his face still contorted in pain. "Was my choice in restaurant too perfect for words?"
"Oh, it was perfect, alright… Perfectly wrong! Please tell me that these foolish restaurant choices that have spewed forth from your mouth are some form of retribution for some past injustice on my part; because if these are your ideas of perfection, then I weep bitter tears for the von Karma family name."
"What! Why not!?" Franziska snapped, her look of pride quickly being replaced by a glare of fiery fury.
"It has nothing to offer us." Manfred bluntly responded.
"Objection!" Franziska yelled, pointing her riding crop to the sign in front of Melons, which depicted a woman holding a tray with two watermelons in front of her. "The sign clearly reads 'Melons: Serving Burgers, Watermelon, and Funmelons since 1972'- emphasis on hamburgers, the food that you desire this evening. So what's wrong with Melons?"
"It's a trashy, low-class establishment that caters to the dregs of society."
For a few moments, Franziska was silent and Manfred felt that he managed to defuse the situation pretty well. But unfortunately, that feeling was short-lived as the last words Manfred wanted to hear at this moment flowed forth from Franziska's mouth.
"And why exactly is Melons so trashy and low class?" The silver-haired girl asked, cocking her in confusion. "Is it because of the watermelons, or because it offers fun?"
The latter, but not in the context that you're thinking of, dear sister… Edgeworth thought to himself as he proceeded to cover his mouth in a thinly-vailed attempt to hide his laughter.
Manfred's fingers began to fidget on the warm, black leather of the steering wheel as a few drops of sweat dripped down his brow. "Well… You see, Franziska… I, erm…" The perfect prosecutor imperfectly struggled with how to bring up the crux of Melon's business plan- drawing in sad, horney, desperate men with cheap food and waitresses that show more leg than a drumstick- to his nine-year-old daughter; looking over to his adoptive son with a look in his eyes that screamed 'Help!'
"Don't look at me, sir. You got yourself into this mess, so it's only logical that you get yourself out." Edgeworth said with a big grin on his face, sounding as if he was having the time of his life.
Damn you, Miles Edgeworth! First my shoulder, and now my sanity…!? It's times like this that make me excited for your downfall at my hand in 2016. But now's not the time to be thinking of that; I need to focus on convincing Franziska why Melons is a horrible restraint choice. Reasons… Reasons… Ah!
"Melons serves only Pepsi products, and I will, under no circumstances, allow my family to drink such bilge- we're a Coca-Cola family. Not to mention, the knuckle-dragging servers refill your beverage when it's only half-way empty." Manfred calmly stated.
"I understand, Papa..." Franziska sighed, her shoulders slumping over as a look of defeat filled her grey eyes, prompting Edgeworth to gently pat her on the back.
"It's alright, Franziska, you didn't know better. There's always next time."
Franziska lashed Edgeworth with her riding crop. "Shut up, Miles Edgeworth! I'm a von Karma, I don't need your foolish pity!" The young girl snapped, crossing her arms and turning her back to her adopted brother.
"I assure you, Franziska, this is not pity. I'm simply stating that you didn't know that Melons was an undesirable restaurant, and now that you've learned your lesson, you will avoid that mistake from now on and have better luck in the future.
"Luck is a foolish concept that serves as a foolish security blanket of foolishness for fools with no hope of achieving perfection; fools like you, Miles Edgeworth." Franziska scoffed.
"But may I offer some advice…?" Edgeworth asked.
"Only if you want my riding crop to do the same." Franziska sneered.
Edgeworth continued on, unfazed from years of being a part of the von Karma family. "Perfection is not achieved through using the same method every time, but rather through gaging the situation and acting accordingly. Sure, your strategy of rushing in guns ablazing and overwhelming the opponent has its benefits, but when you're not in complete control of the situation, it can result in many misses; your restaurant suggestions being the perfect example. That's why you must learn the virtue of patience- to restrain yourself as you wait for the right moment to strike."
Franziska lashed her 'little' brother with her riding crop, as promised. "Well, if you're so perfect, why don't you suggest a restaurant."
"Fine, I will." Edgeworth smirked.
The maroon-cladded adolescent waited for a minute, looking out the window as he carefully studied the nearby restaurants.
"There." Edgeworth said as he pointed to a building next to a large, plastic statue depicting a cartoonish bluejay holding a large hamburger in one hand and a sign reading 'Blue BlueJay' in the other.
"Ha!" Franziska sneered. "You've officially reached a new level of foolishness, Miles Edgeworth, because Papa would never go for a foolish place like this."
"Granted, it's not the first place I'd choose, but given our current location, it'll do. Good job, Miles." Manfred stated as he pulled into the parking lot.
"You were saying…?" Edgeworth smirked, earning him a lash from Franziska's riding crop.
"You just got lucky!" Franziska huffed as she glowered at her brother.
"I thought you didn't believe in luck." Edgeworth smugly retorted.
"S-Shut up!" Franziska snapped, once again whipping the maroon-cladded adolescent with her trusty riding crop.
"Cease this tomfoolery, both of you, and help me locate an empty spot." Manfred demanded as he circled around the seemingly-full parking lot.
"There's a spot over there, sir…" Edgeworth stated as he pointed to an empty spot towards the back. "Right next to that neon-orange Mustang that just parked.
Manfred flinched, breaking out in a cold sweat. "O-Orange Mustang… Dear Santa, please tell me that it's anyone but-"
At that moment, Gant exited from the Mustang and proceeded to walk towards the restaurant.
"Pray he doesn't look over, pray he doesn't look over…" Manfred mumbled to himself, his knuckles turning white from clenching the steering wheel.
Franziska cocked her head in confusion. "Why are you acting so anti-social around Detective Gant, Papa?"
"I think Mr. von Karma is still a bit sore regarding our defeat in a chicken fight against the good detective earlier today." Edgeworth chimed in.
"True, but that's not why I want to avoid him. I do not wish for Gant to see us because if he does, he'll want to eat dinner with us while rambling on and on about trivial topics like swimming, or the weather, or how many officers were killed in the line of duty last week. Do I look like I care about mere grunts that are a dime a dozen?"
But unfortunately for the veteran prosecutor, Gant saw the Mercedes out of the corner of his eye and turned to face the von Karma family, grinning like his usual happy-go-lucky self.
"Well, it appears that ship has sailed." Edgeworth noted.
"Maybe he didn't see us." Manfred replied in a hopeful tone.
"Man-nay!" Gant giddily proclaimed, vigorously waving his hand as if he was trapped on a deserted island for days and was flagging down a boat.
"He saw us, Papa." Franziska stated.
"I know." Manfred grumbled as he pulled into the spot.
Gant stood outside the restaurant's front entrance, grinning with clasped hands upon seeing Edgeworth and Franziska walking towards him as Manfred followed behind, dragging his feet as if he was being sent to the gallows.
"Worthy! Good to see ya!" Gant proclaimed as he vigorously shook the adolescent's hand and arm. "Hope you're not too sore after our little chicken fight."
"No, sir, I'm as fit as a fiddle."
"Good to hear!"
Gant went over to Franziska and kneeled down so that he was at eye-level with the young girl, extending his arm out in an attempt to ruffle her hair, but quickly stopped upon seeing her raise her riding crop.
"Touch my hair and my riding crop smacks you!" Franziska growled as she brandished her trusty weapon.
"All walls and no doors, just like your dad, eh Franny-Banany?" Gant chuckled as he got beck up on his feet.
Finally, Gant went over to Manfred and gave the prosecutor a bear hug, much to the latter's disdain. "Manny, it's always good to see you!"
"Too bad I can't say the same regarding you." Manfred wryly retorted.
"Heh heh heh! Classic Manny! Always being Mr. Doom-and-Gloom Storm Cloud! Why, this reminds me of Halloweens when we were kids. While the other children were going around dressed as Rocky and Bullwinkle, your dad would be wearing a suit and tie, saying that he was from the IRS!" Gant heartily laughed as he clapped his hands.
"The IRS took down Al Capone. They are not to be taken lightly. And like you're one to talk, considering that you would wear only an orange speedo, claiming to be an Olympic swimmer."
"Yeah, good times, good times… Say, Manny, what brings you on down to this neck of the woods?"
"Do I have to answer, Gant? Look at our surroundings…" Manfred gestured to the space around them. "Does this area look like the type to contain my kind of restaurants?"
Gant patted Manfred on the back. "Heh heh! Look on the bright side, Manny. This is a good way to broaden your horizons. Take a break from pea-sized portions and tables with a thousand different forks!"
"I thought that you'd be the last person to insult peas, considering that your brain's the size of one." Manfred retorted.
"Always quick with that sharp tongue of yours, eh Manny? Well, as much as I'd like to stay here and shoot the breeze, I'm in the mood for some grub. So let's get in there and get ourselves a table- no, booth! I'm feeling whimsical tonight!"
"And so it begins…" Manfred grumbled as Gant wrapped his arm around the veteran prosecutor and walked them both into the building, with Edgeworth and Franziska following closely behind.
Several minutes later, the von Karma family and Gant had been seated at a booth against one of the side walls- Manfred and Gant on one side an Edgeworth and Franziska on the other- where Gant was telling the children stories from his and their father/mentor's childhoods.
"…And after five or so minutes of relentlessly chasing Manny around the school, Grossy pounced and sat on him for five minutes until he cried and gave up the class menorah. After that, Manny's back was heavily sprained, so he had to wear a back brace for a month and was given a week's worth of detention for his crimes. And that, children, is the story of how Manny tried to steal Hanukah."
"Lies!" Franziska snarled as she lashed her riding crop at Gant. "Papa is perfect! So if he wanted to steal something, he would succeed with no issues!"
"Oh, I assure you, Franny-Banany, it's as true as the nose on my face. Why, when Manny, Blaisie, and I were kids, we use to get in all sorts of shenanigans." Gant replied with a grin.
"So are there other such stories about Mr. von Karma, Mr. Gant?" Edgeworth asked, his chin propped up on his fist, ready to absorb all of the jovial detective's tales like a sponge.
"The real question you should be asking, Worthy, is how far back you want me to go. For example, back when we were in kindergarten, Manny had a little too much lemonade during snack time. So as you can imagine, during playtime-"
"Utter one more word on the topic, Gant, and you won't have a mouth in which to spew foolish drivel from." Manfred growled.
"Alright, alright; I'll stop, but only because you asked so nicely." Gant stated as he played with his hair.
"Good. Now onto my next complaint: What on earth is taking our server so long to get here? Server!" Manfred yelled, snapping his fingers.
At that moment, a young, slender girl with long, straight blonde hair and glasses, wearing a blue polo shirt and a brown skirt, nervously scurried over to the table.
"I'm sooo sorry about the wait, sir! I was busy taking orders for a table of 12 and none of them could decide on what to get! And it didn't help that the kids were dying to get milkshakes, but the parents wouldn't let them, and then they started arguing! I-"
Manfred snapped his fingers again, silencing the adolescent server. "I don't care about your work life, girl. Just take our orders!" Manfred bellowed, flashing the girl a glare intense enough to make her take a step back.
"S-Sorry, sir. M-May I take your order?" The server nervously asked as she took out a notepad which slipped out of her hands, forcing her to quickly pick it up.
Manfred pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing as he realized that he had the misfortune of getting one of those servers- the kind that try too hard to please you, yet can't do anything right to save their lives.
"Look, I am not in the mood for failure, so I'm going to tell you our orders nice and slowly. For our drinks, we will have four glasses of water with exactly three ice cubes- not four, not two, not seven, but three. Any beverages with an amount of ice cubes other than three will result in said beverage, or beverages, getting thrown in your face as a lesson. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" The girl responded, her posture as stiff as an arrow as she wrote down the terrifying prosecutor's drink request.
"In regards to our meals, we will have four plain, well-done hamburgers- no pink, burnt, well-done!- and four sides of french-fries."
"And make mine with a side of ranch!" Franziska chimed in; whacking her riding crop against the table to get the server's attention as the server quickly recorded the table's very-specific order.
"Now hold on a minute, Manny. That's not what I want!" Gant protested.
"Then what do you want?" Manfred growled.
"Well, I for my drink, I want a…" Gant rubbed his chin as if he was contemplating a life-changing decision. "Root beer! No, RC Cola! No, Root beer! No, Dr.- cherry Dr. Pepper, and that's my final choice."
The server jotted this new beverage on her notepad.
"And for my meal…" Gant picked up his menu and proceeded to peruse it, eliciting a sigh from everyone else at the table. "Young lady, can you please explain the difference between the Sriracha Burger and the Hombre X-Treme Burger?"
"Well, sir, the Sriracha Burger comes with pickles, onions, and lettuce, coated with a spicy chili-garlic sauce; whereas the Hombre X-Treme Burger comes with the same sauce, only it contains jalapeno peppers, tomatoes, and pepper jack cheese."
"Oh, both of those sound really tasty."
Manfred snapped his fingers. "Just pick something already, Gant! It's a hamburger, for goodness sake, not what color you're painting your living room!"
Gant flashed the veteran prosecutor one of his infamous stares. "…Manny, the Hombre X-Treme burger is a limited-time offer. I want to be properly informed as to whether or not I should give it a try. But if you're going to go rushing me like this, I'll try the Hombre X-Treme burger with a side of fries."
"An excellent choice, sir." The server replied as she finished writing down Gant's order. "By the way, my name's Adrian, so if you need anything, just call for me." Adrian said as she went to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Adrian rushed out of the kitchen with the table's drinks, only to stumble and spill each and every beverage all over Manfred, drenching the prosecutor.
"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" Adrian constantly repeated as she tried her best to sop up the liquids on Manfred's suit, stopping when he started to growl at her. "Right! Once again, I am so, so sorry about that! I'll get you some more drinks right away, on the house!"
Meanwhile, at the booth right behind Manfred, Aura Blackquill, who was wearing a violet hoodie and jeans despite it being 97 degrees Fahrenheit outside, was resting the side of her head on her hand, eating a french-fry as she glared over at her little brother- wearing a black kimono, a Naruto headband, an Ash Ketchum hat, and bike gloves- who was staring longingly at his friend, a young Maya Fey.
"Is the food here oishii, Maya-chan?" Simon asked with a look of concern on his face.
"Yeah, it's great! Thanks for taking me here!" Maya chirped as she excitedly ate her burger.
"Yatta! I'm so relieved. I wanted to take you to my favorite soba restaurant, followed by a trip to hear some desu rakugo, but my uncultured imouto insisted that I take you here." Simon said as he scowled at Aura, who rolled her eyes at her brother.
"Hey, don't look at me, dweeb. Do you think that I want to spend my Friday evening watching you and your dirty weeaboo ways? I'm only here because Mom's busy with work."
"Baka! I am not a weeaboo, Aura-chan!" Simon huffed.
"Who are you kidding, snot head? Ever since Dad up and left, you've become a full-blown Japanophile- wearing that ridiculous outfit, refusing to eat anything that isn't served in Japan, throwing Japanese into every single sentence, and the piece de résistance: searching high and low for a Japanese girl your age to be your girlfriend."
"For your information, Aura-chan, I became pen pals with Maya-chan because we share a special connection, not because she's Japanese."
"Oh please, we both know that you only became pen pals with her after you spent a whole day looking up authentic Japanese neighborhoods in the greater Los Angeles area and then writing letters to every address you found asking for 'kawaii lolis' to write you back. I still remember the look on Mom's face when the cops came knocking on our door."
"Sure, I may be a bit of an otaku-"
"Ha! You're such a big weeaboo that if I cut you open, you'd probably bleed sake, ramen, and butthurt comments about how Japanese subs are better than English dubs." Aura sneered.
Simon glared at his sister. "You know, Aura-chan, your tsundere attitude is starting to wear desu thin on my patience. You're ruining my oishii dinner that I am trying to enjoy with my kawaii bishoujo loli, Maya-chan.
"What are you even trying to say, you freaking weeb? Try speaking English, you know, the language of the country that we live in."
"Hey, don't get mad at me just because I'm in a relationship and you're not." Simon sneered.
Aura slammed her palm on the table. "Go kiss your Sailor Moon pillow, weeb dweeb! If I wasn't stuck with you, I could have any guy I want!" Aura hissed, getting right in Simon's face.
"And how is your inability to get senpais to notice you my fault? Having a shota-bo like me for an otouto is quite effective in the dating game." Simon smirked, causing Aura to roll her eyes.
"Yeah, because guys are really attracted to girls who have to drag around their little brothers who haven't bathed in over a week and are under the delusion that they are Japanese."
Simon slammed his palms on the table. "For your information, Aura-chan, I have watched six animes in the course of three months, so that essentially makes me desu Japanese."
"No, it doesn't. And no matter how hard you try to deny, you'll always be of English decent."
Simon flinched. "No, it's not true!"
Aura sneered. "Oh, but it is, Simon. You're English…"
"No!"
"You're destined to be good at dry humor and bad at cooking…"
"Lalalalala! I can't hear you!" Simon yelled as he put his hands over his ears.
"You can't change your ethnicity with cartoons…!"
"They're. Not. Cartoons!" Simon snarled, his nostrils flaring, as he grabbed a french-fry and threw it at Aura, hitting her square in the face.
"Bad move, weeb!" Aura growled as she picked up a french-fry from her own plate and threw it at Simon, hitting him on the arm.
"Itai! Now I'm angry!" Simon yelled as he and Aura began to throw a barrage of french-fries at each other as Maya innocently ate her burger and watched the show.
"Unagi Surge!" Simon bellowed as he picked up a small cup of ranch dressing and flung it at his sister, missing and hitting the back of Manfred's head, prompting the prosecutor to quickly turn around and glare at the Blackquill siblings.
Manfred snapped his fingers, quelling the conflict between the two siblings. "My family and I, along with a man who I can't seem to get rid of, are trying to enjoy a peaceful meal. So it would be in your best interest to immediately cease your yelling and tomfoolery."
"Um, sir…" Edgeworth nervously said.
"What is it, boy?" Manfred snapped.
"The back of your head… it has some ranch dressing on it."
Manfred stroked the back of his head, snarling upon verifying Edgeworth's claim as correct in the form of feeling a cold, white gooey substance.
"Why you little…!" Manfred yelled as he pulled out his stun gun, only to be stopped by Gant grabbing his arm.
"Calm down, Manny, they're not worth the effort."
"Stay out of this, Gant! They wrong me and must suffer for their transgressions!"
Gant tightened his grip on Manfred's arm and flashed the latter his infamous stare. "…Manny…"
"You always have to play the good guy…" Manfred grumbled as he returned his stun gun to his pocket. "But as for you two, I don't want to hear another noise from your table. Understand?"
"I understand…" Aura groaned. "Hey weeb," The purple-haired girl said as she slapped Simon's shoulder, "apologize."
"Baka! I'm not apologizing for how you made Dracula angry!" Simon whined.
Manfred flinched upon hearing the comment. D-Dracula!? What is it with people and comparing me to a vampire?
"Oh please, you wouldn't know Dracula unless he was a teenage girl with saucer-sized eyes!" Aura sneered. "He's obviously the reincarnation of the First Doctor from Doctor Who."
"Franziska cocked her head in confusion. "What's a 'Dr. Who'? Some foolish Dr. Seuss character?"
"He's not some character from your dry, uncultured show! He's Dracula!" Simon growled.
"Better than your over-glorified cartoons, soba snot! He's the First Doctor!" Aura retorted.
"He's Dracula!"
"Dr. Who!"
"Dracula!"
"Dr. Who!"
"Dracula!"
"Dr. Who!"
Manfred snapped his fingers, silencing the siblings once more. "Manfred von Karma, the perfect prosecutor!"
"Well, look on the bright side, Manny- we now have plenty of ideas for your Halloween costume next year!" Gant mused, laughing as he clapped his hands.
Manfred scowled at the jovial detective. "You're enjoying this, aren't you...?"
At that moment, Adrian rushed out with the replacement drinks for Manfred's table.
"Once again, I am sooo sorry about tha-AH!" Adrian screamed as she slipped on some spilled ranch that was a byproduct of Simon's Unagi Surge, falling back and spilling the drinks once more… all over Manfred.
"Swap seats with me, Gant." Manfred curtly demanded, to which the detective was all too happy to comply.
Later, after Simon's table had left the building and Adrian managed to actually give the von Karma table their drinks without error, including the correct number of ice cubes, the adolescent server gave the law-enforcement group their meals.
"So, is everything to your liking?" Adrian asked as she nervously twiddled her thumbs.
"Yup!" Gant proclaimed.
"Excellent." Edgeworth stated.
"It's edible." Franziska responded after swallowing a bite of her burger.
Adrian breathed a sigh of relief as a grin spread across her face. "Good to hear! And you, sir?" Adrian asked Manfred, who just sat there in silence as he glowered at his half-cut burger. "Sir..?"
"Tell me, girl? Are you trying to provoke me?"
"No, sir! Of course not! What gave you that idea?"
"My hamburger is RAW!" Manfred bellowed in a low, booming voice as he held up the offending sandwich!
Adrian quickly took a step back, her arms outstretched to serve as a barrier between her and the wrathful prosecutor.
"I'm so sorry, sir! Allow me to-" The server was interrupted by Manfred snapping his fingers.
"Bah! You have done enough damage, foolish girl! I demand to see the manager of this establishment!" Manfred roared as he forcefully pushed Gant out of the booth marched to the side of the table.
At that moment, a man with shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair, wearing a tacky Hawaiian flower shirt and swim trunks, rushed over to Manfred as Adrian fled the area as fast as she could.
Manfred rolled his eyes. This explains everything…
"Like, customer-dude, what seems to be your beef? Get it, 'cause we, like, serve beef here…" The man said as he nudged the veteran prosecutor's arm with his elbow- an act equivalent to poking an already-furious bear with a stick.
"Get away from me, boy!" Manfred snarled as he slapped the manager's arm. "And as for my 'beef', I asked for a well-done burger and instead got THIS!"
The veteran prosecutor showed his burger to the manager, who looked at it with confusion.
"Sir-dude, like, I don't see what's wrong. It looks like a well-done burger to me."
"Are you daft!? See that pink spot?" Manfred asked, pointing to a miniscule speck of pink on an otherwise well-done burger.
"No offense, sir-dude, but that doesn't, like, constitute as undercooked."
"Not undercooked? What if I got a crippling case of food poisoning from that one undercooked portion and wasn't able to work as a result? Because unlike you, boy, my job is actually important. Do you know who I am?"
The man took a moment to analyze Manfred's appearance before becoming overcome with excitement and shaking the prosecutor's hand.
"Yeah, dude, I'd recognize you anywhere! But I never thought that I'd get to, like, meet you in person!"
"Well, it appears that some members of the younger generation know greatness when they see it." Manfred smirked.
"Yeah, dude, you're my childhood hero! But I have a question…"
"Yes?"
"How do you, like, go out during the day?"
"What?" Manfred flashed the man a look of confusion.
"Yeah, 'cause you're Dracula and you die in the sun and stuff."
"Dra- I am NOT Dracula! I am Manfred von Karma, the perfect prosecutor who has never lost a trial in over 30 years!"
"Manfred von Whozits… Never heard of ya, dude."
"Well, you'll know about me after tonight. Now compensate me for my burger or I will sue and claim ownership of this hole-in-the-wall dump in ten minutes flat!"
The manager put his arms out in front of him. "Chill, dude, chill! If you're gonna get this way, I'll have the burger taken off your check. Heck, I'll even, like, make your entire table's meals free."
"Normally, I would accept your offer and walk away, but after that Dracula comment, I will not be so merciful." Manfred snapped his fingers. "Bring me the bill!"
The manager shot Manfred a look of confusion. "What?"
"Did I stutter? Bring me the bill!"
The manager quickly rushed into the kitchen and returned with the check for Manfred's table, which the prosecutor proceeded to read over.
"I will be paying the full amount." Manfred snapped his fingers. "Miles, go out to the Mercedes and bring me The Jug!"
Upon hearing this request, Edgeworth's eyes widened. "No, not The Jug, sir!"
"Yes, Miles, The Jug! Here are the keys to the Mercedes. Don't keep me waiting." Manfred handed Edgeworth the keys to their vehicle before the adolescent rushed out of the building.
"Yeah! Punish him, Papa! No mercy for the foolishly foolish fool!" Franziska cheered as she cracked her riding crop.
Gant grabbed onto Manfred's arm. "Have mercy, Manny, he's just a man! Have a heart!"
The veteran prosecutor pushed his childhood friend off of him. "Oh, I heart, Gant, and it wants retribution!"
"Am I, like, missing something? What's 'The Jug'?" The server asked.
Suddenly, Edgeworth, who was struggling to carry a 10-gallon jug filled to the brim with pennies, entered the building and slammed the large container on the table.
"Behold, the greatest weapon of vengeance in the von Karma arsenal: The Jug!" Manfred bellowed, gesturing to the container in all its glory.
"Is that, like, a jug filled with pennies?" The manager asked with a tone of hesitation as he pointed to The Jug.
"You're not as foolish as you look, boy." Manfred sneered. "I'm going to be paying all $54.72 of this bill… in pennies!"
"You're insane, dude!" The manager proclaimed with terror in his voice as he tried to take a step back, but was stopped by Manfred grabbing his arms.
"I am not insane, I'm perfect. Now you're going to stay here as I count out all 5,472 pennies!" Manfred reached into the jug and started placing pennies on the table. "One penny, two pennies, three pennies, four pennies…"
About 45 minutes later, Manfred's group and Gant left the restaurant and entered the parking lot.
"Sir, did you really have to be so cruel to that manager?" Edgeworth asked, earning himself a lash from Franziska's riding crop.
"Papa's actions were perfectly warranted, Miles Edgeworth! That foolish man wronged Papa and needed to be punished accordingly! How else would he learn not to mess with us?"
"I'm not saying that he was in the right, but I think that driving the man to tears towards the end was pushing things a bit far. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Miles, only undisciplined, weak-minded fools cry. He deserves no pity." Manfred coldly replied.
Gant clasped his hands together. "Well, with the exception of the delay created by The Jug, I had a good time! So, how's about we keep the party rolling and go out for a night on the town?"
Manfred glowered at Gant. "No."
"Alright, I understand, Manny. Say, how about sometime next week you, Blaisie, and I get together to discuss our Halloween costumes for the Precinct Halloween Bash? I was thinking that we go as classic horror movie villains: me as the Creature from the Black Lagoon, Blaisie as Freddy Krueger, and you as Dracula. Heck, from what I've seen tonight, you don't even have to dress up- just go in your normal clothes!"
"…Leave, Gant. Now!" Manfred bellowed as he slammed the end of his cane on the ground.
"You don't have to tell me twice. Bye Manny, bye Worthy, bye Franny-Banany!" Gant waved as he entered his mustang and quickly left the parking lot."
Manfred pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank Santa. I never thought that we'd be rid of him…"
"So Papa, what are we goin to do now? Are we going back to the beach house?" Franziska asked.
"And sit around with that painting watching us? I think not. We're not returning to that place until we absolutely have to."
"So then what exactly are we going to do, sir. This town has no libraries, museums, or theaters. It's as barren culturally as it is in cuisine!" Edgeworth complained.
Manfred put a firm hand on the maroon-cladded adolescent's shoulder. "Don't worry, Miles. I'll think of something…"