A/N: Ages of the characters introduced in this chapter…
Justine: 15
Fulbright: 14
Horace: 13
Patricia: 26
Simon Keyes: 14
Sebastian: 6
"Gant, you maniac, you can't do this to me!" Manfred roared, glaring daggers at the smiling detective as he pushed his back against his seat, as if in a futile attempt to stop the orange Mustang from entering the parking lot for a mini-golf course with a large sign depicting a grinning man, dressed in a leprechaun's green suit with a matching green, puffy hat, holding a golf club like one would a cane.
"Calm down, Manny, you act like I'm sending you the gallows!" Gant chuckled as he slowly drove around the crowded parking lot to find an empty spot.
"Objection! The gallows would be a far kinder fate than this Santaforsaken den of iniquity! For at least being hung is a quick experience, and not a slow, agonizing one that makes you pray for the sweet release of death!" Manfred snarled.
"Manny, it's a putt-putt course, not Blaisie's cellar. You'll survive. …Oh, there's a spot! And right at the entrance, no less!" The detective giddily responded with a clap as he quickly claimed it for himself and his group.
"Detective Gant, why did you bring us here?" Edgeworth calmly asked, staring out the window as he took in the sights of the fenced-in mini-golf course.
"Does a man need a reason to want to have fun with one of his best friend and his family, Worthy?"
"Yeah, Miles Edgeworth. Detective Damon Gant merely wishes to amuse himself by watching me thoroughly defeat you." Franziska smirked with a finger waggle.
"Oh, so now you wish to go out to a place where 'it's loud, has nothing to offer, and full of people who are dead above the neck'?" Edgeworth sneered.
"But this place does have something to offer me, Little Brother: the opportunity to prove my superiority. Granted, it's probably filled with more foolishly foolish mouth breathers than I'd care to be around, but the joy of victory will make it all worthwhile."
"Cling to those hopes while you still can, 'Big' Sister…" Edgeworth smirked, earning him a lash from Franziska's ridding crop.
"And just what is that supposed to mean, Miles Edgeworth?" The young girl growled.
"I'm just saying that unlike you, I've actually played real golf. So with that in mind, I hold a sizeable advantage over you."
"Nu-huh, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska snapped, bending her riding crop out of frustration. "As a von Karma, I'm more than capable of perfectly mastering any skill within a matter of minutes. Therefore, all your foolish golf experience will do is make you look slightly less foolish when I defeat you!"
"Franziska, Franziska, Franziska…" Edgeworth sneered, shaking his head with outstretched arms. "It's a known fact that no amount of natural talent alone will ever triumph over actual experience. Take our games of chess, for example."
"Those don't count, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska snarled as she slammed her fist into the car door. "I merely let you win to amuse myself!"
"Oh, and pray tell, how does one losing five consecutive times in a single day lead to one's amusement?"
"I win wars, Miles Edgeworth. Sure, I may had lost more times than I'd like to admit, but it was all part of my plan to make you overconfident, causing you to let your guard down and netting me an easy win!" Franziska smugly retorted with a smirk and her hands proudly on her hips.
"Please refresh my memory, Franziska. How exactly did the sixth game end?"
After a few brief seconds of awkward silence, Franziska responded in the only way she knew how to when backed into a corner- by whipping her foolish brother with her riding crop.
"Shut up, Miles Edgeworth!"
"Now, children, save some of that for the golf course." Gant chimed in. "In fact, why don't we make things interesting and play teams- you young'uns versus me and Manny!"
"What! I don't want to be on a team with my foolish little brother! He'd only serve to slow me down!" Franziska whined, lashing Edgeworth's right leg with her ridding crop for emphasis.
"If I seem to be slow to you, it's only because I've lost all feeling in my legs after years of abuse by your hand with that bloody-"
"No one cares about your opinion, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska interrupted as she delivered yet another blow to her adopted brother's leg with her trusty weapon.
"Aw, c'mon Franny-Banany! It'll be fun!" Gant said with a clap of his gloved hands. "Plus, it'll give you valuable training for when you become a prosecutor and have to work together with others."
"No, it won't!" Franziska huffed, whipping Gant with her riding crop out of frustration, though the orange-cladded detective appeared completely unfazed. "You're foolish and your foolishly foolish plan is foolish!"
"Franny-Banany, I wasn't giving you a choice." Gant sternly stated, his eyes narrowing into his infamous stare, which almost instantaneously silenced the hot-headed girl.
"Regardless of what you think, Gant, your plan is destined for failure. For how do you expect to be on a team with me when I don't have shoes?" Manfred asked, finally deciding to join in the conversation.
"Easy! You can wear the pair of flippers I keep in the trunk!" Gant chirped with a clap.
"I will do no such thing." Manfred huffed. "Flippers are not shoes."
"They're the shoes of the sea, Manny! You'll be fine! And as for your missing cane, you can use your golf club as a substitute once we're inside. You can pretend to be the Mad Putter's Transylvanian cousin!" Gant mused with a chuckle.
"Well, I'm not leaving this car and there's nothing you can do to change my mind!" Manfred bellowed with crossed arms.
"So that's how it's going to be, eh Manny…?" Gant commented as he gave Manfred one of his infamous stares, causing the veteran prosecutor's eyes to bug out as he broke out in a cold sweat and clenched his right arm.
Edgeworth and Franziska stood outside the car, completely silent and motionless as they stared at the scene before them with looks of awe. The 'scene' consisting of Gant trying to pull Manfred out of the passenger seat by his feet while their mentor clung to the door for dear life.
"Get off of me you braindead oaf! This is kidnapping!" Manfred yelled, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the door tightened.
"It's not kidnapping if the police is doing it, Manny! You of all people should know that! Now let go, you're making a scene!" Gant grunted as he heaved at his childhood friend's legs with even more strength.
"Never! Gregory Edgeworth will be running an ice-skating rink in Hell before I let go of this door!"
"Well, I can keep this up for a long time, Manny! I go swimming!"
"I don't care if you're Hercules himself! The only way you're prying me off this door and onto that blasted mini-golf course is if you rip it off of its hinges!"
"Miles Edgeworth, shouldn't we be helping Papa?" Franziska asked, breaking the silence between her and her adopted brother as they watched from the sidelines.
"Now, Franziska, you know how prideful Mr. von Karma can be. If we were to assist him, it would only end badly for us."
"But-" Franziska tried to rush over to help her father, but was stopped by Edgeworth placing a firm, yet calm, hand on her shoulder.
"Trust me, Franziska. When it comes to your father, it's always better to let him fight his own battles." If that chicken fight earlier today was of any indication…
"Excuse me, miss, but do you have any place where we can store a car door?" Gant asked the person working the front booth- an adolescent girl wearing a black Themis Legal Academy dress- as he played with his hair.
"Umm… What?" The girl responded, dumbstruck at the sight of Manfred, wearing a scowl on his face and black flippers on his feet, holding a bright, neon-orange car door.
"You know, any storage rooms or a locker, or maybe we could just store it behind your counter until we're ready to leave. Would that be okay with you… Justy?" Gant asked with a grin as he read her nametag, not hesitating to give the girl one of his famous nicknames.
"First of all, sir, my name is Justine, not 'Justy'. And second, The Mad Putter has a strict policy against storing customer items in employee-restricted areas. But if you want, you can leave it against the side of the booth." Justine said with a smile, gesturing to the side wall of the stone structure.
"Jolly good, Justy! We'll do just that!" Gant chirped with a clap of his hands, oblivious to the adolescent girl rolling her eyes at him upon hearing him call her 'Justy' again, as Manfred placed the car door against the designated wall.
"Ok, how many golfers?" Justine asked as she stared down at her computer monitor.
"Does that include those forced to play against their free will?" Manfred wryly retorted, earning a glare from Gant.
"Manny…" The orange-cladded detective sternly stated. "Four- me, Manny, Worthy, and Franny-Banany!" Gant said with a grin.
"Alright…" Justine said as she typed the information into her computer. "That'll be $30.00."
"Well it won't be for long, Justy. I have a coupon!" Gant boasted as he reached into his pocket and handed Justine a five dollar-off coupon.
"Ok… Make that $25."
Gant handed Justine his credit card, which she then swiped through a bar scanner before returning it to the detective.
"Alright, so what color balls do you want?" Justine asked.
"I'll take silver!" Franziska chirped, prompting the adolescent employee to hand her a silver golf ball.
"I'll take orange!" Gant replied with a clap, earning him a bright-orange ball.
"I'm sure you can guess which color I want by my outfit." Edgeworth smirked, but his smug grin quickly faded when Justine presented him with a bright-red ball. "Not quite…"
"Oh, sorry about that…" Justine said as she took back the red ball and replaced it with a bubblegum-pink one.
"Oh, come on!" Edgeworth yelled. "What is wrong with humanity!? Why can't anyone tell the difference between maroon and pink?"
"I'm sorry, sir. They look the same to me." Justine responded in a disheartened tone with crossed arms.
"Are you blind, woman!? How on God's green earth are these possibly the same color?!" Edgeworth roared, getting in the adolescent girl's face as he held the pink ball up to his suit. "Please notice how one is a shade of crimson with the slightest hint of brown, while the other is PINK!"
Maybe this little outing won't be so bad after all… Manfred thought to himself as a sneer spread across his face.
"Please calm down, sir. There's no need to yell." Justine calmly stated with an icy scowl as she replaced the offending pink ball with a weathered red one that, at this point in its existence, looked more brown than red. "Is this more to your liking?"
"It's not maroon, but it'll do." Edgeworth commented as he grabbed the ball.
"And what about you, sir?" Justine asked, directing her attention to Manfred as her smile quickly returned.
"I'll take black." The veteran prosecutor bluntly replied with crossed arms.
"Manny…" Gant said as he wrapped his arm around Manfred's shoulder, much to his childhood friend's disdain. "When picking a golf ball, you're sending a message to the whole world about who you are as a person. For example, my orange ball tells people that I'm powerful, yet fun-loving; Franny-Banany's choice of silver indicates a cold, sharp wit and unbending will-"
"It seems you aren't so foolish after all, Detective Damon Gant." Franziska smirked.
"And Worthy's choice of maroon is a clear sign of his closeted homosexuality."
"WHAT!?" Edgeworth shrieked his eyes bugging out as he reeled back, as if he was just punched in the face. "What on earth lead you to THAT conclusion, Detective Gant?"
"Well, you like tea and crepes, you don't willingly engage in sports, you've never displayed even the faintest interest in girls, you wear maroon…" Gant stated as he played with his hair.
"Don't forget that Miles Edgeworth knows ballet!" Franziska chimed in, the huge grin on her face indicating that she was having the time of her young life.
"Ah, thank you, Franny-Banany! That's a big one!"
"Don't encourage him, Franziska!" Edgeworth snapped.
"You brought this upon yourself with your foolish actions at the boardwalk, Miles Edgeworth. This is karmic retribution!" Franziska sneered with a finger waggle, proud of herself for her clever wordplay.
"See, Manny? That's the kind of thing that can happen when you pick a color all willy-nilly…"
"Objection! I did not pick my ball 'willy-nilly', maroon is my favorite color." Edgeworth retorted, though his words fell on deaf ears.
"Now do you want people to think that you're some dark, hate-filled man who doesn't want to be here in the slightest?"
"Make sure my ball is darker than a cloudy, moonless night in the Arctic." Manfred bluntly stated as he pushed Gant off of him, prompting Justine to give him a black ball.
"Alright, regarding golf clubs…" Justine walked towards the back of the booth and returned with four clubs: two long red ones, a medium-length green one, and a short yellow one, which she placed on the counter. "Are these satisfactory?"
"Yep!" Gant chirped as he took a red one.
"For my height, this is perfect." Edgeworth stated as he took the green one.
"Yes." Manfred groaned as he took the other red one.
"No!" Franziska yelled, bending her riding crop as she resisted breaking her promise to herself of never whipping a fellow girl.
"Is it too short for you?" Justine asked with a concerned tone. "Because if it is, we have other children sizes that you can-"
"No, I want a big club like the one Papa has!" Franziska pouted, pointing at the golf club that Manfred was currently using as a makeshift cane.
"But miss, those clubs aren't-" Justine tried to reason with Franziska, but was interrupted by the young girl smacking the side of the building with her riding crop.
"I don't care what foolish reason you were about to tell me, I'm just as good as Papa and I deserve a golf club to match! Now give me a red club or, so help me, I will subject you to a tirade the likes of which you have never seen!"
"Franziska!" Manfred snapped. "That club is the perfect length for a girl of your height!"
"But, Papa…!" Franziska pleaded, but to no avail.
"No buts!" Manfred stated with one of his signature finger snaps. "Such flippant behavior is unbefitting of a von Karma. Now accept that golf club so we can get this foolish outing over with!"
"Yes, Papa…" Franziska sighed in defeat as she grabbed the small, yellow golf club, which ironically enough had a smiley face painted on the head.
"Wait. von Karma… Manny… Sir, are you by any chance the famed prosecutor Manfred von Karma?" Justine asked with a look of intrigue.
"Why, yes I am." Manfred smirked, finding it refreshing to find that at least someone didn't think he was Dracula.
"I should have known from the moment I saw you, given your outfit. But this is quite the coincidence, considering that about a week ago, on one of the last days of class, my Courtroom Etiquette teacher used you as an example in his lecture."
"Oh, and what was that lecture pertaining to? How to present perfect evidence? How to perfectly prepare a witness? How to win a trial in less than three minutes?"
"Actually, it was regarding the proper course of action to take when a prosecutor presents a forced confession." Justine stated, causing Manfred's grin to morph into a scowl. "Is it true that you were only given a penalty and nothing else?"
"I do not wish to talk about it." Manfred curtly responded with crossed arms.
"I didn't mean to offend you with my question, Prosecutor von Karma. You see, as an aspiring judge, I feel that it is paramount that I learn how to dole out punishment in a way that is both firm and fair, and to do that, I need to gain a proper understanding of how influential wrongdoers such as yourself were dealt with. For example, with my current mindset, I feel that a mere penalty would not be enough for one who had so sorely wronged the Goddess of Law!" Justine proclaimed with an icy glare. "Nay, I would not only have ensured that you were given a penalty, but I would personally talk with the chief prosecutor to have you removed from the case and then presented before the Prosecutorial Investigation Committee for potential disbarment!"
Have you even met Debeste? Trying to get him to end corruption is about as helpful to your foolish cause as throwing nitroglycerin on a fire. And don't even get me started on the P.I.C… Those pathetic fools couldn't even investigate the back of a cereal box if their lives depended on it. "I don't have time to listen to your foolish opinions, girl. Come!" Manfred demanded with a snap of his fingers. "Let's get this golf game over with!"
Manfred proceeded to walk towards the first hole as the rest of the group followed behind him.
The first hole was a simple one in terms of concept: the green was divided into two areas, a raised one on the right with four funnel-shaped holes, and a lower one on the left where the hole itself was located, along with three openings off to the side- a fitting concept for a hole named Down the Rabbit Hole.
"Ok, who wants to go first?" Gant asked.
"Like you need to ask?" Franziska smugly replied as she stepped up to the green and placed her ball down, acting like a professional golfer as she made sure the ball was perfectly centered.
However, unlike a professional golfer- or even a normal person, for that matter- who slightly winds back before gently tapping their ball, Franziska quickly swung her club back at a 90-degree angle, hitting her poor, unsuspecting father in his little Mannies, causing him to fall to his knees with a scream.
"Manny, Manny! Are you alright?!" Gant asked as he lifted the wounded prosecutor to his feet.
"Do I look alright to you?!" Manfred snarled through clenched teeth as he tried to keep on his feet with the help of his golf club.
"Well…" Gant started to reply as he played with his hair, but was soon cut off by his childhood friend.
"It was a rhetorical question, you insipid buffoon! And you…" Manfred growled as glared daggers at his young daughter. "What in Santa's name would compel you to do something so foolish?"
"I'm sorry, Papa!" Franziska wailed as she grabbed onto her father's leg. "I just wanted to prove myself as a capable golfer!"
"Then perhaps you should have tried aiming for the ball on the ground." Edgeworth sneered, earning him a lash from his adoptive sister's riding crop.
"Just… Just hit your ball, Franziska… After I move away, of course." Manfred said as he limped out of range from his daughter's club.
Once she was sure that her father was safe from any further injuries, Franziska hit her ball, albeit a bit hard, causing it to land in the farthest opening on the upper section, where it was transported within centimeters of the hole. After a mini rant riddled with variations of the word 'fool', Franziska went down to the lower portion and, with a mere nudge from her club, hit the ball into the hole.
"Good job, Franziska." Edgeworth calmly stated in a tone signifying genuine respect, earning him only the icy glare of his perfectionist sister as she stepped off the green.
"You wanna go next, Worthy?" Gant asked.
"Age before beauty, Detective Gant." Edgeworth smirked with a bow.
"Well, in that case, it's Manny's turn!" The orange cladded detective let out a hearty laugh as he clapped his hands before casting a concerned glance at the still-wounded prosecutor. "But since it seems like Manny's still down, I guess it's up to me to represent the older generation!"
Gant stepped up to the green and, after casually placing his ball, reared his club back. However, before he followed through with his swing, the detective suddenly stopped.
"Is something wrong, Detective Gant? Why did you just stop like that?" Edgeworth asked as he cocked his head in confusion.
"Worthy, if there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I'm a superstitious man. You've gotta be when you put your neck on the line every day…" Gant stated as he played with his hair. "So when it comes to sports, I can't play without my equipment being imbued with good luck. That's why I need Manny to kiss my putter."
"Over my dead body!" Manfred huffed.
"C'mon, Manny! I need you to kiss my putter for good luck!" Gant stated as he extended the golf club towards the veteran prosecutor's mouth prompting him to swat it away.
"Have some decency, Gant! I was just hit in my nether regions by my own daughter. Can't you have Miles kiss it if you're so desperate?"
"Objection! I'm not kissing Detective Gant's golf club!" Edgeworth shouted.
"Don't worry, Worthy, you're not needed- not because I don't believe in you, but because Manny's the only one who can do it. You see, he's been giving my equipment good luck kisses ever since we were kids!"
"You're going daft, Gant. I have never once kissed any of your equipment." Manfred curtly stated as he stood up straight, having finally recovered from his injuries.
"I beg to differ, Manny. You see, back when I was on the junior varsity swim team, on the night before a swim meet, I would sneak into your room while you were sleeping and have you kiss my speedo. And before you ask, no, I never wore the speedo while you kissed it- that would have crossed some major lines."
"That's why my mouth would taste like chlorine and cloth every Thursday!?" Manfred roared, gripping his right arm as his eyes widened to the size of saucers.
"But if it's any consolation, that speedo made me the star of the swimming team and scored me a prime spot in varsity. So will you help me out for old time's sake, Manny?"
"No! Especially after learning about your twisted childhood rituals!"
"Let me rephrase that, Manny…" Gant gave Manfred one of his infamous stares. "You will kiss my putter. You have no choice in the matter."
"Bah! There's always a choice, and I choose not to kiss your dirty golf club."
"Alright, then I'll refuse to take my turn, which will result in us not moving onto the next hole, which will result in us not finishing the game, which will result in us not leaving the putt-putt course. So go ahead and not kiss my putter for good luck, Manny. We'll just sleep here tonight."
"Fine! I will kiss your club, but it will by no means make you play better. This is the real world, not some foolish fantasy realm where magic auras determine victory and books levitate and talk." Manfred stated before begrudgingly kissing Gant's golf club.
"Thank you!" Gant chirped before hitting his ball, sending it into the same hole that Franziska used during her turn and getting a hole in one.
"Bah! That had nothing to do with luck, Gant. You merely took advantage of this hole's mechanics. Anyone can get a hole in one through that method."
Manfred stepped up to the green and hit his ball in the same fashion as Gant, and sure enough, got a hole in one as well.
"What did I tell you?" Manfred smirked.
"You just got lucky, Manny." Gant stated as both men retrieved their balls and joined Franziska on the side.
Edgeworth, being the observant type, mimicked the technique used by his mentor and Gant, earning himself a hole in one as well; thus ending the first hole with three holes in one and a very bitter Franziska, who was too wracked with anger to speak on the matter besides muttering a few variations of 'fool' to herself.
The next hole, Quit Seahorsing Around!, was pretty straightforward: a straightway of green leading to the hole with the only thing even remotely resembling an obstacle being the namesake animatronic seahorse- a centaur with the top half being a torso wearing a navy-blue wetsuit and a snorkel mask- standing in the middle of the area holding a long, plastic golf club that it would slowly move back and forth across the ground in an attempt to impede the player's progress. However, since the club was moving laughably slow, it was no challenge whatsoever for a player to hit their ball past the club, under the centaur's four legs, and to the hole.
But of course, Franziska, being her usual hasty, aggressive self, after preparing her shot, once again quickly wound back far- thankfully not wounding her father again- and sent her silver ball soaring through the air towards the entrance booth.
"Well, at least you hit the ball this time. Though maybe you should work on keeping it inbounds." Edgeworth noted as he stared up at the sky in the direction Franziska's ball flew off in.
"Shut up, Miles Edgeworth! You don't have to be such a foolish showoff just because you've played a few rounds of golf." The silver-haired girl snarled as she lashed her adopted brother with her riding crop.
"Don't player, Franziska, hate the game." Edgeworth smirked.
"I already do." Franziska pouted with crossed arms.
Meanwhile, Justine wasn't enjoying her evening any more than Franziska was with hers as she listened to Kristoph- whose periwinkle suit was torn in multiple places and was sporting several welts on his head and a black eye beneath a shattered frame of his glasses- tell her his agonizing experience of trying to flirt with Mia and Lana earlier as little Klavier stood off to the side, slowly shaking his head as his once-proud older brother's dignity was gradually depleted. The young boy knew that his big brother was very steadfast and determined, two traits that he greatly admired, but this… this warranted professional help.
"… And then, that purple-haired harpy punched me in the eye before bludgeoning me with my own boombox, causing the fair maidens I was pursuing to flee the scene!" Kristoph wailed in a melodramatic matter similar to that of a Shakespearian actor. "So as you can see, milady, I am but a humble man in search of a fine woman with whom I can give from my endless stores of love and devotion."
"Sir, for the seventh time, I'm not looking to date anyone at the moment, instead choosing to focus all my energy to my studies. So please, either pay for a game or leave." Justine stated with a tone of obvious irritation.
"I understand, I am a man of academics and appreciate pursuits of the mind as well." Kristoph calmly stated with a grin and crossed arms, a look developing in eyes indicating that he was planning something. "Sure, you may not be ready for dating, but let me ask you…"
The blond adolescent took out an mp3 player and started playing the song Get Ready for This as he started gyrating his hips as if he was spinning a hula-hoop, prompting Justine to stare at him with a mixed look of disdain, shock, and anguish.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm enjoying this just as much as you are." Klavier said in a futile effort to comfort the girl, who was beside herself at this moment.
Goddess of Law, please help me, your most devoted of servants! Justine internally pleaded as Kristoph started to shimmy and do the robot.
At that moment, as if to answer Justine cry for help, Franziska's golf ball quickly plummeted from the sky and right in Kristoph's good eye, knocking his glasses off as he fell to the ground screaming.
"My eye! Klavier…! Klavier, reach into my pocket and use my cellphone to call 9-1-1!" Kristoph wailed as his younger brother did just that. "Before I leave for medical treatment, tell me, milady… Have you changed your previous stance in regards to going on a date with me?"
"No." Justine curtly responded.
"Fair enough…" Kristoph groaned as Klavier helped him up, as well as grabbing his glasses, and guided him out of the area.
"Well, it seems that we can't continue this little game since Franziska no longer has a ball. What a crying shame." Manfred said in a disappointing tone, though his true feelings were obvious to all by the toothy grin on his face.
"Don't worry, Manny, I'll go get Franny-Banany a new ball! So you and Worthy take your turns while I'm out. But first…" Gant held up his putter to Manfred's mouth, prompting the veteran prosecutor to growl as he gave it a quick kiss on the head.
"Thank you!" Gant jovially replied as he went back to the entrance booth.
Strangely, for most of the game, there was no one in front of the group; an oddity considering the crowded parking lot when they arrived. But 15 golf club kisses, 15 holes in one for Gant, and 6 angry outbursts from Franziska later, they learned the reason behind this.
The 17th hole, keeping up with the precedent of groanworthy pun names established by the previous 15, was named 'The World is Your Oyster!' and consisted of having the player firing their ball into a giant plastic oyster, which would connect to a tube that would transport the ball near the hole. However, the player would have to time their ball just right, for the oyster's mouth would slowly open and close, resulting in a hasty golfer, i.e. Franziska, hitting their ball and causing it to merely bounce off the mouth, forcing them to go back to the start and try again.
However, the von Karma family and Gant would have to wait to try their luck with the plastic mollusk, for there was actually a group in front of them. The group consisted of two adolescent boys, one wearing a Superman logo t-shirt and white shorts with short chestnut brown hair and a big, goofy grin on his face, and the other wearing a Lone Ranger t-shirt with buzz cut black hair and the beginnings of a blond Mohawk running down the center of his head who, unlike his companion, looked utterly pissed. Though it was easy to see why the Lone Ranger teen, who was fiddling around with a pop gun he would occasionally pull out his pocket, was disgruntled, as the other boy was busy coating the entire area with bubble wrap.
"Boy, what on earth are you doing?" Manfred asked, narrowing his eyes at the lad who dared to prolong this torturous mini-golf trip.
"Hello, sir, my name's Bobby Fulbright, and I looove justice! Who are you?" The boy jovially stated with his hands firmly on his hips.
"Your worst nightmare if you don't answer my question." Manfred growled.
"Well, I'm coating this area with bubble wrap to make sure that we don't hurt ourselves if we lose our footing while swinging."
"That is one of the dumbest thing I've ever heard, only being beat by every defense attorney saying 'I'm going to win this trial' when first meeting me." Manfred wryly retorted with crossed arms.
"Thank you!" The Lone Ranger teen huffed. "I've been telling him that ever since he dragged me here!"
"Dragged you here?" Fulbright snapped as he held up a clenched fist. "I take time out of my busy day to give you a reprieve from the sad life you live as an orphan and this is the thanks I get, Horace?!"
"Reprieve? Look, dude, I don't need any help. I only came with you because you wouldn't stop crying and begging outside the orphanage and I lost at rock, paper, scissors, shoot when we were deciding who would deal with you."
"Is it such a crime that I have so much love to give!?" Fulbright wailed, his head tilted back as tears streamed from his eyes like water from a fountain.
"See what we had to deal with this morning at Happy Family Home? I swear, if this gun was real, I wouldn't hesitate putting a bullet in his thick head!" Horace scowled as he twirled his pop gun on his finger, not unlike a braggart villain in a cheesy western film, before pointing it at the burdensome adolescent.
"Y-You don't have to be so mean, Horace…" Fulbright sobbed with an abashed look on his face as he tapped his index fingers together. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to cover this dangerous oyster in my Bubble Wrap of Justice!" The young boy jovially stated, a big grin quickly replacing the frown that was on his face mere seconds prior.
As Fulbright proceeded to take his time trying to cover the large mechanical oyster with bubble wrap, Gant noticed that with each passing second, Manfred's brow was becoming ever more furrowed as his hand gradually slipped into his pocket towards his stun gun. So, in order to avoid a very-likely conflict, the orange-cladded detective tried to reason with the emotional lad.
"Hey, Fully, mind if we talk?" Gant asked, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder.
Oh my gosh…" Fulbright gasped with widened eyes. "You're Detective Gant!"
"Why, yes I am."
"I am your biggest fan! The way you always fight for justice with a smile no matter how tough things get has served as a major influence on how I live my life! That's why when I grow up, I want to be a detective!"
"He's the reason I'm stuck here?!" Horace growled, glaring daggers at the detective.
"Join the club, boy." Manfred nonchalantly chimed in.
"Well, never knew I was such an inspiration to the kids!" Gant jovially replied with a clap of his hands. "But that's beside the point, see that man over there?" The orange cladded detective asked as he pointed the ever-glaring Manfred.
"The guy that looks like Dracula?" Fulbright innocently asked.
"That's it!" Manfred roared as he pulled out his stun gun and charged towards the justice-loving boy, but was stopped through the combined efforts of Edgeworth holding his waste and Gant extending his arm and pressing against the prosecutor's chest, thus keeping him in place.
"Manny, he's just a kid, he's not worth it." Gant said as he flashed his friend a stern look.
"Detective Gant's right, sir. I don't think it would be wise to create another incident after what happened in Blue Bluejay."
"Fine…" Manfred growled as he returned his stun gun to his pocket.
"Now, what was I saying…?" Gant cocked his head to the side as he collected his thoughts. "Ah, right…! That man's Prosecutor von Karma, my partner-in-crime. I may arrest the criminals and gather up evidence for their trials, but Manny here uses that evidence to get them locked up for a long time."
"So that makes him a warrior of justice as well!" Fulbright excitedly proclaimed.
"Exactly." Gant leaned forward to whisper the next part in the lad's ear. "Now, don't tell anyone, but some Cohdopian terrorists planted a bomb at the 18th hole. Normally, we'd just evacuate the place and send in our experts to diffuse the it, but these Cohdopians are a determined bunch and will outright detonate the bomb the second they get wind of the police getting involved. That's why Manny and I are working undercover as tourists playing putt-putt- to get to the bomb and diffuse it without anyone getting hurt. However, our cover will get blown if we don't play all the holes in order, so it would really help us out if you hurried up and took your turn."
"But the oyster…"
"The damage that oyster's capable of is nothing compared to that bomb, Fully. So hurry up and take your turn before this place blows like Franny-Banany's temper!"
"What are you talking about, Detective Damon Gant? Are you talking about me?" Franziska asked as she poked at the hunched over detective with the head of her golf club, almost as if out of instinct.
"Oh, it's nothing, Franny-Banany. I'm just givin Fully here a pep talk." Gant replied before resuming whispering to the adolescent lad. "So can you please be a team player and just take your turn."
"You can count on me, Detective Gant! In justice we trust!" Fulbright jovially exclaimed, extending his arm out with a clenched hand as if he was holding an invisible object.
"What are you doing?" Franziska asked as she shot the justice-loving teen a perplexed look.
"Oh, I'm practicing the pose that I'll use when I become a police officer and showing people my badge! Pretty impressive, huh?"
"It's foolish and sad." Franziska curtly responded.
"Well, maybe this will impress you, little lady…" Fulbright grabbed his golf club- a medium-sized one with its head covered in bubble wrap- that he had leaning against the giant oyster. "My Putter of Justice!"
"Just take your turn before I introduce you to my Riding Crop of Justice." Franziska wryly commented as she brandished her trusty weapon.
"Okeydokey!" Fulbright chirped as he went to the start of the hole and gently placed his yellow ball on the ground.
"Fore!" Fulbright yelled as he gently tapped his ball with so little energy that it didn't even make it up the ramp, causing it to roll back down. "Fore!" The adolescent yelled again before tapping his ball once more, causing it to roll slightly up the ramp before returning to its original position. "Ok, this time I've got this! Fore!" Fulbright yelled as tapped the ball a third time, resulting in it returning to him a third time.
For the next five minutes, the cycle of Fulbright yelling 'Fore!', tapping the ball, and it returning to him continued without any signs of ending, causing the members of the von Karma family to growl at the grinning teen, their glares boring into his soul as they used every ounce of their will to keep from teaming up and beating him into oblivion. Even Gant, who was hailed for his near-endless wellspring of patience, was starting to get a little perturbed as he shot the lad one of his stares before finally speaking up.
"Uh, Fully, you mind speeding things up and, I don't know, try hitting the ball a little harder?"
"And risk hurting someone? Never!" Fulbright snarled as he held up a clenched fist.
"Did you forget what we talked about just a few minutes ago? Y'know, the reason Manny and I are here…?"
"I know, but if we neglect safety, then we are no better than the animals, Detective Gant! "
"But the mission…" Gant sternly stated.
"Don't worry, sir, I'll be done faster than you can say 'In justice we trust!'" Fulbright jovially proclaimed before resuming his irritating cycle.
After another ten minutes of dealing with the annoyingly idealistic adolescent's inability to hit his ball up the ramp, Manfred decided to take matters into his own hands. So, without even a second of hesitation, the veteran prosecutor took out his stun gun and jabbed it into Fulbright's side, causing the justice-obsessed lad to let out an effeminate wail before falling to the ground unconscious, his limp body slightly twitching from the shock.
"I'm free! Thank you!" Horace rejoiced as he wasted no time in fleeing from the mini-golf course.
"Don't give me that look, Gant." Manfred stated with crossed arms upon noticing the detective's infamous stare. "We both know that was only way to get him to stop."
"What are you talking about, Manny? I didn't see anything wrong." Gant innocently replied as he winked at his childhood friend.
"Are you blind, Detective Gant? Mr. von Karma shocked that guy into submission!" Edgeworth objected, always trying to be the morally-sound member of the family… outside of his studies, that is.
"That's crazy talk, Worthy. Fully was just hit with a baseball, is all…" The orange-cladded detective stated matter-of-factly as he took a baseball out of his pocket and placed it next to the incapacitated teenager.
"This is why I keep you around, Gant." Manfred replied with a sinister grin, warranting a shocked look from Edgeworth.
"I can't believe this! You both are defenders of justice, yet you're behaving no differently from the criminals you strive to put behind bars! This is-"
Edgeworth was quickly silenced by his mentor slamming the grip of his golf club against the ground. "I'm sorry, Miles, did you want to be zapped as well?"
"And lashed?" Franziska chimed in as she brandished her riding crop.
"No, but-" The maroon-cladded adolescent was cut off by Gant giving him his usual unnerving stare.
"… Don't try to be a hero, Worthy- I've got an extra baseball." The detective sinisterly smirked as he pulled another baseball out of his pocket. "Now, what did you see…?"
"I saw… Bobby Fulbright get hit with a baseball." Edgeworth sighed upon realizing that he was fighting a losing battle.
"Good boy!" Gant jovially replied as he returned the baseball to his pocket. "Now, before we get back to the game…" The detective held his golf club up to Manfred's face. "You know the drill, Manny."
Manfred snarled as he once again gave Gant's putter a quick kiss on the head.
Fortunately for the group, they were able to breeze through the hole with little difficulty, with Gant receiving yet another hole in one and the von Karma family all receiving holes in two. Normally, Manfred would be quite livid over such results, but after the day he had been having, his real victory would be just finishing the game. Plus, his slight faltering helped to spare the group as a whole from the irritation and agony of a Franziska temper tantrum. After all, misery enjoys company.
The final hole, I Only Have Eyes for Igloo, was simple in concept: The player would hit their ball down a with slope covered with plastic snow mounds which lead to a flat area coated in powdered snow with the hole smack dab in the center, along with a human-sized statue of an Eskimo staring dreamily at his plastic igloo behind him- hence the hole's name.
"Manny, I'm going to need you to kiss my putter twice for this hole." Gant stated as he played with his hair.
"And why's that, Gant?" Manfred sternly asked, the faintest of grins spreading across his face.
"It's an igloo, Manny!" Gant wailed in an over-the-top manner as he gestured to the structure in question. "We can't underestimate it!"
"In that case, perhaps I should kiss it three times. After all, we are dealing with the unholy power of the igloo." Manfred sneered as he quickly kissed his friend's golf club three times, much to the confusion of his two young wards.
"Am I missing something, Mr. von Karma?" Edgeworth asked, cocking his head in confusion. "Because for as long as I've known you, the only time you fun around is when you're belittling a defense attorney."
"It's an inside joke between me and Gant, Miles." Manfred stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, Worthy! You see, ever since last winter, Blaisie gets furious whenever he sees an igloo. No joke! Whether it's in person, in a t.v. show, or even just a picture, Blaisie starts yelling and going on a long, emotional rant about how igloos are evil and mustn't be underestimated. That's why whenever me and Manny see one, we can't help but joke about it."
"Well, stop acting so foolishly, Papa! I wanna win!" Franziska whined with a stomp of her foot as she bent her riding crop.
"Fine. Take your turn Franziska."
"With pleasure…" The silver-haired girl smirked.
"Hole in one, hole in one, I got a hole in one, so I won!" Franziska condescendingly sang as the group returned their golf clubs at the booth. "Take that, Little Brother! I got a hole in one and you didn't!"
"True, I may have gotten my ball in the hole in two strokes on that last one, but I still have more holes in one than you overall." Edgeworth smirked.
"But I beat you at the final hole, and a victory's a victory no matter how small!" The silver-haired girl boasted with a finger waggle.
"Then in that case, I have more victories than you." Edgeworth sneered with outstretched arms.
"You always have to find a way to foolishly ruin my victories, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska snapped as she lashed her adopted brother with her rising crop.
"I'm your brother, Franziska. If I'm not giving you a hard time, I'm not doing my job."
"Well, you're doing a wonderful job of being a fool." Franziska grumbled with crossed arms.
"Enough bickering, you two. It's time to go over the scores!" Gant excitedly stated as he pulled a yellow scorecard out of his pocket. "In first place, with 18 points is yours truly. Thanks for the help, Manny!"
"None of you will breathe a word of this to no one." Manfred growled, glaring daggers at the others to emphasize his point.
"And coming in second, with a total of 20 points is- Hey, where are you going, Manny? Don't you want to know the rest of the results?" Gant asked as he noticed Manfred, with his young wards following closely behind him, grabbing the car door they had previously left and walking towards the parking lot.
"I want to return to the beach house. Now!" Manfred roared, slamming the car door on the ground for punctuation as he would his cane.
"Alright, alright, you win, Manny. I'll take you three back to Blaisie's beach house. But first…" Gant took out his cellphone and snapped a picture of the igloo before sending it in a text message to Blaise with the caption 'Thinking of you :D'. "A little gift for Blaisie!" The orange-cladded detective chuckled as he, Manfred, and the youths returned to his car.
Meanwhile, Blaise was in his home office, sitting back in his large, black leather chair as he talked on his cellphone with Patricia Roland.
"You locate that brat?"
"Not yet, Blaise." Patricia said with an exasperated sigh.
"What the hell are you doing to me, Rolland?! Do you want our plans to come crumbling down?!" Blaise snarled, gripping the phone with one hand while using the other to cause a plume of fire to erupt from his lighter.
"I'm trying my best! No matter how much I question the children, they have no idea where little Simon ran off to!"
"Y'know, you're too soft on them. If you want, I could come over there and do some interrogations myself, y'see. Yep, a few minutes with me and Mr. Lighter and those brats will tell me all of their dirty little secrets." Blaise replied with a grin, imagining the fun he'd have seeing the children cry.
"That won't be necessary, Blaise, the children are telling the truth."
"How can you tell?"
"Simple. Every night since Simon ran away, I've sent my babies to search every inch of this city and even they're coming up dry!"
"Y'know, I doubt your stupid foxes are the best tools for finding this kid."
"How dare you!?" Patricia shrieked. "I'll have you know that my babies are far more capable than any human. Plus, they're just so cute!"
Blaise let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who needs enemies when I have an accomplice like you?"
"Oh, like you're leading the search?"
"Hey, I'm doing my part. Y'see, I've been sending my henchmen to-" Blaise was cut off as he felt his phone vibrating, signaling that he has received a text message. "I'll call you back in a bit, Rolland. I just received a message, y'see? Maybe one of my guys finally caught the little bastard."
Upon ending the call, Blaise glared daggers at his cellphone upon seeing Gant's text.
"Damn you, Gant, you smug bastard." Blaise grumbled as he began to play with his lighter. "Y'know, you and von Karma may make fun of my disdain for igloos, but if it wasn't for those damn ice cube huts, I wouldn't have to spend my nights searching high and low for some kid with the help of a woman who loves her foxes a bit too much. Y'see, I could be using that time on grander pursuits- like maintaining my hog, or adding a new woman to the collection, or crushing Sebastian's self-esteem. I-"
Suddenly, Blaise's train of thought was interrupted by his door bell ringing, prompting the Chief Prosecutor to emerge from his office and head over to his front door, which upon opening, he found an adolescent boy with long, red hair going down to his shoulders standing before him holding a pizza box. Though much to Blaise's confusion, the boy's demeanor quickly changed from one of calmness- a smile and closed eyes- to one of fear as he held the box so that the only visible part of his face were his wide, terror-filled eyes.
"Hey, hold the box horizontally, kid. I don't want my meat-lovers pizza getting all soggy, y'see?" Blaise growled, prompting the boy to quickly shove the box into the Chief Prosecutor's hands before running back to his bike as fast as his legs could carry him and pedaling off into the night as if his life depended on it.
"What the hell was his problem? …Oh well, at least I don't have to pay for the pizza." Blaise noted as a toothy grin spread across his face.
As Blaise reentered his house, Sebastian- who was wearing blue footie pajamas with the phrase 'Little Boy, Big Idiot' written on the front in big, block letters with black marker- rushed over to his father.
"Hi, Poops!" Sebastian chirped, looking up at his father with eyes filled with joy and admiration and receiving a glare of disdain and disappointment in return.
"*Sigh…* It's Pops, Sebastian, not poops. But what do you want?" Blaise groaned, internally cursing his late wife for producing him such a disappointing heir.
"I see you got a plaza…"
"Yep, my personal favorite, meat-lover's. What about it?"
"Can I have a splice?"
"Me? Give you a slice of my pizza…?" Blaise hunched over for a brief moment as he was overwhelmed with laughter; but as quickly as this outburst arose, it quickly ended as his face returned to its default stoic expression. "Y'know, that was a pretty good joke, Sebastian. Maybe you could make a name for yourself in comedy- maybe as an idiotic standup comedian or a rodeo clown…" Blaise grinned as he imagined Sebastian getting gored and trampled by a raging bull.
"But Popes, I'm being serious!" Sebastian wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks as his emotions overwhelmed him to the point of forgetting his father's previous correction in regards to his title.
"Sebastian, pizza is reserved for people that I respect and/or love- two things that a little reject like you couldn't hope to achieve in a million years, y'see?" Blaise curtly stated as he played with his lighters. "So with that in mind, you might as well give up, shut up, and go back to the kitchen and finish your dinner."
"I can't! The cinnamon-coated saltimes make my throat burn!" Sebastian whined.
"Y-Y'know, there… there are children in Africa who would kill for that kind of meal! And here you are, t-throwing it away in the hopes of stealing your old man's pizza! It… It's enough to bring a tear to my eye…" Blaise wept as he tugged on his fake beard before emptying his goggles. "So, little reject of my loins, I'd suggest you appreciate what you've got by getting back in that kitchen and finishing your dinner before I change your dessert from a stale doughnut that I found behind the breakroom fridge to something hotter on the tongue…" Blaise growled as a pillar of fire erupted from his lighter.
"W-Whatever you say, Props!" Sebastian timidly replied before scurrying back to the kitchen, but not before slipping on the hardwood floor and falling face down on the ground and bursting into tears and wailing at the top of his lungs.
"I hate kids…" Blaise snarled as he took his pizza back to his office, slamming the door behind him before locking it.
A/N: Normally, I like to reply to reviews via PMs, but since these two were submitted by guests (or a single person using two different names), I'll be replying to them here.
Sal Manella: While the Ace Attorney series may reflect real life in a multitude of ways, you must remember that at the end of the day it is still a video game series, and as such, many liberties can be taken for the sake of story progression- particularly in regards to the injuries. These include, but are not limited to, Phoenix falling off Dusky Bridge and into Eagle River and only getting a cold, Phoenix getting hit by a speeding car, getting launched 30 feet, stopping only when his head hit a telephone pole, and only receiving a sprained ankle, and Maya, a 5'1" 17 year-old girl, getting shocked by Manfred's stun gun and only being rendered unconscious. So with those facts in mind, we can safely assume that if Manfred used his stun gun on Edgeworth or Franziska, they'd merely be knocked out, with severe injures only resulting if the plot demands it.
Yes, the concrete room belongs to Blaise's son, Sebastian. In Investigations 2, Blaise does not even try to hide the fact that he hates Sebastian and has absolutely no respect for him as a person, taking every opportunity he can to belittle his son and crush his self-esteem. So if Blaise won't hesitate to straight up call Sebastian a useless moron on multiple occasions in public, one can only imagine the kind of stuff that went on behind closed doors.
Speaking of Blaise, in regards to your question of why Manfred doesn't just take down or cover up the disturbing painting, the reason is due to the possibility of getting caught. You see, Blaise is a very powerful and influential man with many enemies. So with that in mind, Manfred knows that there is a strong possibility that Blaise's house is filled to the gills with hidden cameras and sensors and that if he were to move anything, chances are that Blaise would quickly find out and not hesitate to deliver swift and harsh punishment.
In regards to the finger print portion of the story, had Franziska's dress been dusted for prints, Edgeworth's would have been found from when he put his hand on her back moments prior. Thus, Franziska would have been able to easily argue that Edgeworth forced her to search through the cabinets after pushing her, resulting in him being punished. As for how Franziska managed to overpower Edgeworth, you'd be amazed at what can be accomplished with a riding crop and enough anger.
Deid Mann: Well, Klavier was six, and six year-olds tend to be brats. And while Kristoph may come off as posh and refined, when he's on a mission for retribution, he's not afraid to unleash his inner brute, as seen with how he murdered Zak with a bottle of grape juice.