3 Judges, Lawyers, and Prostitutors… Oh Myyyy

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles
June 21, 2034

That piteous, yet tormenting, screech made Phoenix’s heart leap in his throat and adrenaline course through his veins, putting him on high alert. He caught a quick glimpse of his own dread mirrored on Edgeworth’s face as they remained rooted on the spot a split-second, both momentarily paralyzed with panic.

Edgeworth was the first to recover.

The Chief Prosecutor turned and bolted down the hallway leading to the bedrooms, with an impressive swiftness that surpassed that of a frantic Cancun tourist who’d consumed the local water, and was seeking a lavatory.

Hot on his heels, the defense attorney dashed behind, Ace still in his arms, his limbs tingling and panicked brain racing in the most unhelpful way. Even after all the years of preparation, and experiencing his fourth year as a father, the reality was still alien. In the familiar courtroom, Phoenix knew so well, he didn’t even have to think about his surroundings; he went from A to B on autopilot, able to focus on the “problem du jour.” But with parenthood, there was no such thing as the same old; absolutely nothing was familiar, every day was a new adventure.

Right now, without Maya’s reassuring presence to keep a reign on things, his mind kept handing him nightmare what-ifs about the anticipated perilous situation both fathers had heard but had yet to see.

Generally, Phoenix had never known Edgeworth to have been the anxious type. After all the strife the other man had endured in his life, he was known to be ever-composed. Many times, in situations that would have had most other people fraught with anxiety, the austere prosecutor even appeared to be more laid-back than a Sombrero-sporting Mexican on his day off.

But now, as the friends reached Mila’s room where the scream had originated from, Phoenix noted that his best friend had a look in his eye that, in the three decades he’d known him, he’d never once seen on Miles Edgeworth. It not only didn’t belong on the prosecutor’s face, but it also scared him; after all, he’d always counted on Edgeworth to be the one who always knew what to do.

“Wahhhh! I want my Mommy!”  Was wailed yet again, now accompanied by bawling.

So do I, Edgeworth thought frantically, looking over at his spiky-haired companion. In this discomfort, I can feel my irritability increase and the logic of my actions decrease as if they’re locked into some inverse relationship…

The defense attorney set Ace down on the floor with a near thud, then bent over double, hands on his knees, struggling to regulate his breathing as his brain tried to process that the harrowing scene they were witnessing was actually real and not from some bad comedy/B-rated horror movie!

I want my Maya.

The room began to twirl around Phoenix as he took in the chaotic scene. He closed his eyes but found the spinning sensation only worsened.

“Wright!” Edgeworth’s harsh warning tone dragged him back to reality. “Don’t you dare even think about fainting!”

Franziska Von Edgeworth, Maya Fey Wright,
Maggey Gumshoe, Adrian Andrews, and Ema Skye
The Ball Room, Los Angeles

“Fainting isn’t uncommon in these scenarios apparently,” Maggey giggled, taking a sip of The Ball Room’s signature drink, The Fanny Bagger. “But the doctor did kick Dick out of the room after that. Just as well, since Gordy wound up being 11 lbs and I ended up needing a caesarian anyway! Can you imagine if I’d needed to push that Bullwinkle head out of me? My hoo-ha would have never recovered!”

“It’s just too funny!” Ema was wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. “Your big, bad, brawny policeman husband fainting when he saw the size of the epidural needle!”

“Pearly told me that story a few years back,” Maya tittered. “She was explaining why she had to be the one to go on stage to be the magician’s assistant for Trucy, back in the day at The Wonder Bar. Even as a child,  my little girl was as amused as we all are now, that her tough-guy Uncle Scruffy would never be Truce’s stage assistant whenever she did her needle through thumb trick, due to his aversion to sharp, flesh piercing objects!”

“Men are such babies!” Adrian agreed. “Don’t even get me started on what a ginormous suck Simon can be when he gets sick! He had a wee bit of a cold couple of weeks ago, and of course, was acting as though he was a terminal patient! So since he was stuck in bed, he was whining for a glass of orange juice. When I brought him one, my allegedly badass Twisted Samurai’s lower lip actually came out. ‘Couldn’t you get me a bendy straw?’ He legit pouted!”

“Oh man, I have got to tell Nick this one so he can bust Simon’s balls next time they square off in court!” Maya crowed merrily. “Your fiancé, the Man-Baby!”

As if on cue, the next act came on the stage just then. The lights lowered, the upbeat tempo music slowed, and Paul Danka’s “You’re Having My Baby” began to play.

“What in the world?” Franziska gasped, nearly choking on her Slow Comfortable Screw cocktail.

All five women’s eyes bulged, and their jaws dropped at the sight on the stage.

The dancer was a fine specimen; Native American, with long, straight, lustrous-looking black hair that rivaled even Maya’s, with a body to die for, and smooth brown skin … dressed as a baby.

He was donned entirely in footie pajamas, with a pacifier in his mouth, and even had on a bonnet.

“Well this is officially the most wrong thing I’ve seen tonight,” Ema noted dryly. “And this is coming from me, the woman who had the misfortune of noticing the bride at that wild bachelorette party table next to us drank from her glass … after the server, Rick the Dick¸ used a very special stirring rod in it, before presenting it to her!”

“I am not seeing this!” Maya groaned, clapping a hand over her scandalized eyes. “I came out tonight to get away from my baby…not be reminded of him in any way, shape, or form!”

“Christ help you if this reminds you of Ace though…” Adrian’s eyeglasses looked about ready to shatter on her face.

“It could be worse,” Maggey offered weakly, even though her visage was as traumatized as everyone else’s at the table.

It did get worse. At that moment, the dancer, whose stage name was Little Dickie, had proceeded to whip out an oversized, plastic baby bottle which he was pretending (or so they all hoped!) to pee from!

“I need brain bleach after this!” Maya moaned, daring to sneak a peek at the troubling sight through her fingers.

“And I need another drink,” Franziska said numbly, reaching for the unsuspecting waiter passing by and nearly yanking his arm out of its socket. She looked at him with desperate, pleading eyes. “A double shot of Wild Turkey bourbon, now! Straight up!”

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles

Phoenix straightened up and took a deep breath as he assessed the nightmare scene before them.

His lovely little Mia, the spitting, pint-sized image of her namesake aunt, right down to her long, toffee-colored tresses, was now sporting a full head of white hair. She could have easily been an otherworldly spirit creature herself, as her entire velour shirt and skirt were presently more snowy colored than the violet they’d been when they had all arrived at the residence, barely half an hour ago!

The evidence of what was making his four-year-old resemble Jacob Marley’s ghost in the stage production of A Christmas Carol now lay on the ground; what he could only assume was a now-empty container of talcum powder. It was everywhere…all over the bedding, literately all over the carpet, in the toy box (the contents which were emptied on the ground) as well as the clothes drawers….

In contrast, Mila, who like her twin brother, normally had platinum blonde, almost white hair, seemed to have channeled her inner 80’s rock star and was now rocking a mane of mostly electric blue streaks! On top of it all,  Franziska Jr. was brandishing a skipping rope in her hand, in an alarmingly identical manner to her whip-wielding mother, as she mercilessly shrieked at her sobbing brother about what a “pig-faced, smelly fat-head”  he was!

Gregory, who was naked except for his Steel Samurai underwear, was face-down on the carpet, still wailing for his Mommy. He was buried head-first in a pile of scattered Legos, which had once been constructed into a tower of some sort. One side of his former fair-haired bowl cut, the one facing the men, was completely lopped off, right to the skull, and his pinky finger was an angry bright red. Next to the little boy lay a slippery-looking, enormous roll of gift wrap, which was unrolled halfway across the room.

As he looked at this with mounting agitation, Edgeworth was the first to find his voice. In an ominously loud voice he normally reserved for the courtroom, his bellow thundered amongst the walls.

“What is bloody going on here?!”

The noise in the room came to an abrupt halt, replaced by deafening silence.

Mia looked up sheepishly at her father, the corners of her chalk-colored lips spreading into an angelic smile across her face, which may or may not, have been pink with embarrassment, as it was currently also ashen with powdered dust.

“Hi, Daddy…”

“Hi, Princess…” was Phoenix could manage to get out before Edgeworth resumed his next emulation round of Apollo’s Chords of Steel.

“Mila Ema Franca Edgeworth!” Edgeworth thundered, in full Objection-style, finger-pointing mode. “Gregory Skylar Franz Edgeworth! I demand an explanation of all this, post-haste!”

Both twins looked too stunned and terrified at the ire in their father’s tone to comply. Not that Phoenix blamed them – Edgeworth’s face was currently the identical shade of his trademark wine-colored suit, he was so incensed. Phoenix wouldn’t have blamed the kids if they’d wet themselves in fear!

Note to self. When the chips are down, my best friend is officially scarier than his wife. And that’s saying something!

It was the defense attorney’s daughter who spoke first.

“Well…” Mia began, one hand on her hip, the other scratching the back of her head in a manner that was not at all dissimilar to her father’s when he was trying to bluff his way out of something. “It’s a long story, Uncle Miles…”

“I’m all ears, Mia.” Edgeworth’s scary, angry face softened, albeit just a tad, as he looked wearily at his goddaughter. “I am most curious …” he waved his hand dramatically with a flourish as he gestured to his daughter’s formerly immaculate room. “Pray-tell, what preceding events led to this little shop of horrors?”

Before the little girl could continue, the house was suddenly filled by the loud musical sound of a sultry saxophone solo, which could only be described as a similar, smoky sound of Godot’s coffee theme song.

“Oh dear Lord!” Edgeworth’s attentions immediately did a turnabout from the troublesome trio as his head swiveled in the direction of the resonance, his formerly puce cheeks now drained of all color. “I – I know that sound! It’s coming from my room…”

“How is that even possible?” Phoenix demanded. “We’re all here, and there’s nobody else in this house, as Hendricks’ butler duties are done for the day. Do you have a poltergeist in your place, Edgeworth? I’d almost prefer to think that indeed something demonic was the result of this…general disarray!” His grim gaze fixed back on the children, zeroing back in on his daughter. “However, don’t you dare, Mia Misty Fey-Wright, even think of trying to claim that the Devil made you do all this!”

“Don’t you get smart with me, Wright!” Edgeworth fumed, folding his arms across his chest and affixing his companion with his trademark glare. “I specifically ensure all my electronic devices are powered off when not in use because otherwise, the electricity bills would be murder! Ergo, I have no idea why we seem to suddenly have background jazzy blues as theme music!”

Despite the dire straits of their current situation, Phoenix’s lips twitched into a mischievous grin and he couldn’t resist goading his friend just a tad.

“Well, since you’re such a conscientious utility consumer, is my ghost in the machine theory  so far-fetched then?”

“If you don’t immediately cease making senseless, ill-timed, God-awful jokes amidst all this calamity, Wright, said the electric bill won’t be the only thing subject to murder!” Edgeworth threatened, momentarily forgetting they had an audience.

Mia, Mila, and Gregory (who had stopped blubbing at this point) were all silently staring at the two bickering men, wide-eyed.

“Way to be a great role model there, threatening violence in front of the kids!” Phoenix smirked, beginning to enjoy the newfound novelty of seeing the normally calm other man unraveled for a change.

“Curse you, Wright! I ought to…”

“Um, Uncle Phoenix?” Mila interrupted timidly, crossing her arms across her body and clutching her sleeves nervously.

“Yes, Mila?” Phoenix sighed, loathe to have his entertaining argument halted.

“Where’s Ace?” The little girl asked, self-consciously running a finger through her chin-length, newly azure-colored tresses.

“He’s right here…I just put him down a minute ago…” Phoenix cast an idle glance in the vicinity of his feet, where he’d hastily plopped down the toddler in his previous dumfounded state and found, to his incredulity, that his son was nowhere to be found!

“Ace!” He cried, alarmed. “Edgeworth, did you see where Ace scampered off to?”

“Of course I did, you fool!” Edgeworth snapped sarcastically. “In the middle of this fresh hell that’s been presented to us, I’ve been paying attention to your child, whom you’ve misplaced for the second time now in the last thirty minutes!”

“No need to be a wise guy!” Phoenix retorted, oblivious to the fact that he’d been just as guilty of being an ass himself. “Edgeworth – you fix this mess!” He pointed to the twins. “I’ve got to find my son! Mia, come with me! Follow that sax!” With that, he turned and ran from the room, his daughter in hot pursuit.

Edgeworth won’t need to murder me, he thought, his panic rising once again. If Maya finds out I lost our son for the second time tonight, she’s going to freakin’ kill me!

Franziska Von-Edgeworth, Maya Fey-Wright,
Maggey Gumshoe, Adrian Andrews, and Ema Skye
The Ball Room, Los Angeles

“He’s killing me!” Maya groaned, her hands still clapped over her eyes – the last time she’d dared to take another peek to see if Little Dickie, aka the gigantic Man-Baby, was done his number yet, he’d busted out a bottle of talc and was having women come up on stage and powder his bare bottom! “Is he done his set yet?”

“All clear now,” Maggey reported, already on her fourth drink. She’d been matching the birthday girl glass for glass. “Thank heavens, too! This is supposed to be a night of fun and fantasies! Not being reminded of the grim realities of wifey/motherhood!”

“I’m neither a wife nor a mom yet and I found that mondo disturbia,” Adrian shuddered. “I wish I could obliterate that image from my mind like you three are,” she gestured to Maggey, Franziska, and Ema. “But unfortunately, I’m driving tonight!”

“That was beyond depressing,” Ema agreed, draining the last of her Blue Balls cocktail. “I know we’re at the peelers and all, but that made me feel dirty! I feel like I need to shower!”

“You sound semi-germaphobic there, science girl, if that’s all it takes to make you feel unsanitary!” Franziska laughed tipsily as she waved about her empty glass. “Wait till motherhood hits you, and you’re dealing with being vomited on, spat upon, urinated on…

“Lovely! So, regardless of my preferences in, ah, life, it appears that should I opt to procreate, one way or another, I’m still going to be subjected to golden showers anyway!” Ema grimaced.

“Not to mention dealing with their crap, literally and figuratively,” Maggey added with a wicked grin.

“Said water fountain effect can be avoided, somewhat, if you wind up having a boy,” Maya offered helpfully. “You just need to remember when changing their diapers to ensure you point their little ooh-hoo south!”

“Wow, this so makes me yearn to get knocked up and join you all on that delightful mommyhood path! How about you, Ema? Doesn’t this just makes you wanna hop right on Klavier and get a bun in the oven?” Adrian deadpanned.

“You learn to deal,” Franziska shrugged. “After having the twins, I realized that despite everything, Miles is more fastidious and hygiene-obsessed than I ever was! I remember when we first brought the twins home and Mila had her first bowel movement. I was already dealing with Gregory’s diaper, so I asked Miles to tend to her. Would you believe that my husband came out, suited-up in rubber gloves, a clothespin on his nose, goggles, and a scrub top?!” Her lips twitched into an amused smiled at the memory. “I asked him, ‘How much damage do you think a one-week-old can do?’ He looked at me like I was the crazy one!”

The diviner cracked up then, her former trauma from the previous dancer now completely abolished as the rest of the table dissolved into giggles. “You’re kidding, right?” She gasped, clutching her stomach.

“You know my husband very well, Maya! I couldn’t make this up if I tried!” Franziska snickered. “The first few times we took the twins out in public, strangers would come up to our babies and tickle their toes and pinch their cheeks. Miles got so worked up about this because he is so careful about germs. So he ended up making a sign that read, ‘Please, do not touch our newborns. If you must, please disinfect your hands. Thank you.’ He kept a bottle of hand sanitizer ready in his pocket, as well as the sign on the baby carrier, for three months!”

They all laughed again.

“Jesus, that man would put those kids in a bubble if he could, wouldn’t he?” Maggey shook her head.

“Sounds like he’d opt to live in one himself!” Adrian nudged Ema in the ribs. “Miles sounds like a male version of you!”

“OK, not even I’m that bad!” Ema scowled and crossed her arms across her chest in a huff.

“And now…ladies…please put your hands together and welcome our next performer!” The MC boomed over the speakers just then. “Give it up for Mr. Big!”

“Well this better be good after the last hot mess,” Maya muttered, taking a sip of her juice.

“Let’s prepare to be amazed, ladies,” Franziska drawled. “After all, you all wanted to come here…brace yourselves for the next spectacle we’re about to be watching…”

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles

“Ace! What in Christ’s name are you watching?” Phoenix exclaimed in horror when he, at last, found his son, who was in the Edgeworth’s Master bedroom, staring blankly at the 60-inch television in front of him, which was the source of the emitted saxophone music they’d heard. The remote control lay by his tiny feet on the carpet. Mia was at her father’s side, her little mouth open in surprise at what was scrolling on the enormous flat screen.

The words Judges, Lawyers, and Prostitutors flickered across the set.

Oh dear God…Phoenix thought, frozen in stupefied disbelief as the image then changed to a man in black judges’ robes, approaching the stereo-typical, sexy blonde in oversized glasses with her hair pulled up into a topknot and wearing a navy, skin-tight ‘business suit’.  The top three buttons of her jacket were undone to show her augmented cleavage, and on her long legs were a pair of sky-high stilettos.

“So, shall we get right to the debriefing, your honor?” She purred sultrily, walking up the courtroom lawyer’s bench and arching her back while thrusting her buttocks in the air, which were straining against the skin-tight material of her skirt, which rivaled a belt in length! “Or since it’s after hours now, should I just call you … Mr. Mel Practiss?”

“I’m always ready to pound you with my gavel,” the man rasped, promptly discarding his robe, under which, of course, he had on nothing at all. “Prepare yourself to be legally boned, Ms. Misty Meanor!”

“Misty!” Mia chirped happily. “That’s my middle name, Daddy!”

Phoenix started. He’d forgotten his daughter was with him – he’d been too traumatized by what he – and his near infant, innocent son! – were unwittingly being subjected to! This was even worse than he could have ever imagined.

If Mia breathes a word of this to Maya, I’m going to be the next summoned spirit that requires channeling…

“Gah!” He yelped, snatching the remote from the ground and frantically pushing at the seemingly endless rows of buttons in his efforts to halt the skin-flick.

It didn’t work.

Instead, the background sax music was now coming out even louder, in full stereo, from invisible wall speakers!

“Ew!” Mia squealed, clapping a hand to her mouth and pointing at the screen. “That lady lifted her skirt and is showing that man her butt! And I can see his hit butt too now!”

“Ngh!” Frantically, Phoenix stabbed at a few more buttons on the alien-looking device in his hand, and only succeeded in making a mirrored disco ball somehow drop from the ceiling, the bedroom lights to dim, and a colorful mirage of strobe beams to start reflecting off the walls!

Edgeworth, you kinky bastard! Why do you insist on having these stupid high-tech gadgets with a million keys!?  

“Gross! Now he’s hugging the lady from behind!” Mia reported, as though her horrified father couldn’t see for himself.

“Not Barney!” Ace began to wail indignantly, stamping his little feet and looking up at his father with a quivering lip. “Want Barney!”

Phoenix desperately stabbed at another button, only to wind up activating the fast-forward feature.

“Yuck! Now he’s hugging her even faster! How is he doing that, Daddy?”

Someone…just kill me…now…Phoenix groaned, hitting one more button, only to make the automated blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows suddenly move and close themselves shut.

“No want lady!” Ace was crying now. “Want Barney!”

“Stop crying, Ace! Please!” Phoenix begged helplessly and slapped his forehead with the remote in frustration, half-hoping the action would shut the damn thing off like it did in the movies.

Of course, it didn’t. All it succeeded in doing was giving him was a level-5 headache!

“Ngh!” Edgeworth’s mortified voice suddenly sounded behind Phoenix as he appeared just then, Mila and Gregory tucked under each muscular arm like a football. “Wright, you imbecile, why haven’t you turned this off!” He dropped the twins and snatched the control box out of Phoenix’s hand, and with one flick, mercifully shut off the obscene images on the screen.

“What did you think I was trying to do?!” Phoenix protested hotly. “Every button I pressed just kept triggering something else! It’s not my fault that I’m not tech-savvy…and you have more thingamajig bells and whistles than Batman!”

“Well your son somehow managed to turn on a completely powered off television and DVD player,” Edgeworth grumbled, his cheeks pink with embarrassment as he adjusted his cravat. “Which means a two-year-old is already more knowledgeable with technology than you are!”

Oh, bite it sideways Mr. Chief Prostitutor!

“Be that as it may,” Phoenix replied defensively. “I’m not the one who left that…smut in the DVD player am I?! And how am I the imbecile here, when aforementioned two-year-old had reachable access to said remote? Shouldn’t it have been kept out of reach, along with the scissors and coloring that resulted in your children playing hairdresser?!” The defense attorney gave a silent thanks to whatever higher power was up there that despite the blanching powder that colored it, nobody had cut his daughter’s beautiful long hair – he was positive if so, Maya would have throttled him, castrated him, and filed for divorce – not even necessarily in that order!

Edgeworth’s cheeks flamed at the rebuttal, well put as it was.

“Don’t be so mean to Uncle Phoenix, Daddy!” Mila scolded, waving her finger disapprovingly at her father.

“Yeah, Daddy, you’re not good with all the electric stuff!” Gregory put in. “You just fried the motor in the vacuum cleaner trying to suck up all the powder from the carpet!”

Spoken like the true defense attorney his grandfather was and is aptly named after, Phoenix smirked to himself, grinning at his godson as Edgeworth’s blush deepened.

Mia was polite enough to cover her mouth with both hands to smother her laughter, but a loud snort still erupted from within her, bringing both men down to earth about their previous plight.

“OK, enough with the giggles, missy!” Phoenix looked sternly at all three kids. “You two, Thing 1 and Thing 2,” he wriggled his finger at the twins. “Did you get a chance to explain to your father what in tarnation happened to result in…” he began ticking off the incidents on his fingers. “My daughter looking like a ghost, why the front of Gregory’s body is all shiny with oil – and why he’s still only in his underwear! – his pinky is still an angry red, he’s got half a faux-hawk on one side of his head, and why Mila looks like something out of an 80’s rock video?!”

“Trouble 1 and Trouble 2 never did get around to elaborating,” Edgeworth muttered. “Although the vacuum cleaner dying probably distracted them from the true revelation.”

“That wasn’t it, Daddy,” Mila insisted. “We got distracted when you nearly tripped on the floor Lego, almost twisted your ankle, and got the pieces stuck to the bottom of your feet, and you started yelling Scheiße and welcher Hurensohn hat das hier hingelegt…”

“That means something in German,” her brother chimed in. “We don’t know what…”

“We asked Daddy what that meant ….but then he stepped on another Lego,” Mila added. “And he switched to shouting Fluffernutter and Cheese Nuts!”

“Those we already knew, because cheese nuts were what Mommy called Daddy one time when she was mad at him,” Gregory felt compelled to explain to the amused Phoenix and Mia. “She insisted afterward it was intended to be a sweet nickname, like calling someone honey, but I don’t know why grown-ups call each other food names anyway…”

“Yes, well, Uncle Phoenix and your cousin don’t need to hear the unnecessary penetralia about me and your mother’s marriage, children,” Edgeworth interrupted gruffly, crossing his arms and tapping his finger against his arm as he regarded the twins. “Now, back to the point, which was how all this nonsense began?”

“Like I tried to tell Uncle Miles earlier, Daddy,” Mia replied solemnly. “It’s a looong story.”

“That won’t work twice, missy.” Phoenix crossed his arms across his chest as well. “Luckily, Uncle Miles and I have all night.”

“We’ll tell you, Uncle Phoenix,” Gregory promised, then looked up at the defense attorney with a nervous look in his grey eyes. “There’s just one thing though…”

“What’s that, Gregory?” Phoenix asked, beginning to tire of the stalling tactics. “And it better be good!”

“Um, where’s Ace?”