9 The Unkindest Cut of All

Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Dick Gumshoe, and Come Blo Me Cavalry
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles

A quarter of an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Phoenix and Edgeworth were going at it again on one of their ridiculous squabbles while the children watched on as a captive audience, and Hendricks was still playing double agent duty as a plumber.

Therefore, the onus was on Gumshoe to open the door. On the other side stood a striking Latina woman, who appeared to be in her mid to late 30s. Her lithe figure was showcased in a pair of black jeggings, and her white, fitted tank top contrasted beautifully with her tanned olive skin and lustrous, golden-streaked, mahogany hair, which tumbled past her shoulders.

“Buenas noches! Me llama Eliete, de Come Blo Me,” she introduced herself to the police chief in her lilting Cuban accent, shaking his hand with her free one, as her other one was holding a large black plastic traveling case. “¿Se encuentra el Señor Edgeworth?”

The big man stared at the hairdresser for a moment without blinking, suddenly looking completely tongue-tied. Despite being a now happily married man, growing up, he’d always had an inner shyness around attractive women that he had never really outgrown.

“No, Señora, me llamo Gumshoe,” he finally managed to utter, rapidly searching his brain to remember his high school Spanish and pointing to himself comically. “Señor Edgeworth está en la sala.”

Eliete flashed a pretty, indulgent smile, although he wasn’t sure if it was because she was humoring him for his Spanish effort, despite his terrible accent, or just general friendliness. However, either way, it only made the big man’s blush further deepen as he let out a nervous high-pitched giggle.

“Por favor entra,” he invited awkwardly, closing the door behind her.

The hairdresser placed her case on the floor, her inquisitive dark eyes widening as she took in the scene before her:

– A tiny girl, no more than four, wearing a slightly too large lavender sundress, whose face and hair made her look like a ghost in a stage theater production.

– A slightly older girl next to the ghost child, with electric blue hair so glaringly bright, one almost needed sunglasses to look at her.

– A little platinum blond boy who was presumably Smurfette-headed girl’s brother, sporting a bowl cut on one side with the other side trimmed so short it looked as though he’d practically been scalped.

– A guapo, spiky-haired hombre trying to successfully wrap an oversized T-shirt around an oily, squirming miniature version of himself on the sofa, with what looked suspiciously like multiple chip clips into some sort of onesie, as it was too large to merely just be used as a diaper.

– A muy bonito, elegant hidalgo in a wine suit, whose good looks were currently marred by the fact that he was shouting so loudly at the man in the blue suit that his furious face was the same color as his outfit.

“You are unbelievable, Wright! It’s inconceivable that you seriously have the gall to be diapering your son with my imported designer, 12-gauge knit Italian cashmere shirt!” The gray-haired man fumed, waving his hands dramatically in the air in a manner that would have made any Italian proud!

“What do you want from my life, Edgeworth?” The black-haired man glared back. “It was either I take the first thing your son retrieved for me, or let my toddler run around with no bottoms and risk having an accident on your precious rug!”

“I’m sorry Daddy!” The little boy with the lopsided haircut wailed plaintively. “I couldn’t reach your top drawer, and Hendricks was busy, so I grabbed the first thing I could find from the bottom drawer that I could reach!”

“Ngh! It’s all right Gregory. An honest mistake… I blame Wright here for grabbing it from you and not recognizing that wasn’t an everyday cotton T-shirt!”

“Objection! How in the name of God am I to know one material from another with your shi-shi froufrou T-shirts?” The man named Wright demanded, as he finally managed to outfit the toddler into a makeshift onesie with four clips in the back to hold it together. “First of all, what is with you and your import obsession, Edgeworth? Italian couches, Oriental rug, and now Italian cashmere?! Can you do nothing to help the US economy and buy local once in a while?! And second, why on earth do you even own a cashmere T-shirt anyway?! It’s an average of 80° year-round… we live in Los Angeles for Christ’s sake!”

“Objection! For your bloody information, sometimes it gets cold on the rooftop in the evenings!”

“Give it a rest, Edgeworth! Just bill me for the blasted thing, just like you threatened to do with the plumbing bill!”

“Hold it! Fellas!” Gumshoe whistled loudly to get their attention. “Can you both cool your jets and at least pretend that you’re gentlemen? There’s a lady present!”

“There’s no reason to assume I am not a gentleman! I wasn’t the crass one using the Lord’s name in vain multiple times in the same sentence …” Edgeworth grumbled, finally looking up to see the recent arrival. Staring at the pretty woman by his friend’s side, his words died in his throat, and a heated blush crept up his cheeks, the fight dying in him entirely.

“Por favor, disculpe Señora,” the chief prosecutor immediately morphed back into his customary chivalrous mode. Bowing slightly in greeting, he continued to speak in flawless Spanish that entirely put Gumshoe’s previous efforts to shame, and strode up to the hairdresser. As he clasped her hand in both of his own, his normally cool grey eyes glowed with uncharacteristic warmth. “Es usted Eliete? Encantado. Soy Miles Edgeworth. Gracias por venir tan rápido. Bienvenida a mi casa.”

“Mucho gusto, Señor Edgeworth.” The handsome prosecutor was treated to a dazzling smile.

“No, Señora,” Edgeworth murmured in a smooth as silk voice Phoenix had never heard him use before. “El gusto es mio.”

The blue attorney took note of this 180-degree shift in behavior with an arched eyebrow.

OK, Edgeworth has fully gone past the polite normal three seconds greeting stare! He observed. I had no idea he could do a complete turnabout and go from being ridiculously rage-filled over imported wool shirts, to morphing into Rico Sauvé within 5 seconds! Looks like he has a soft spot for good-looking Spanish women! Yeesh, is that hint of admiration I see in his eyes? Am I going to need to remind him that he’s a married man, since he has also far surpassed the standard two-second handshake already, and is still holding her hand?!

With a smirk, the defense attorney got up from the sofa, keeping hold of Ace in his arms – the one lesson he had finally learned that entire night was that the toddler couldn’t seem to cause any grief as long as you kept a sure grip on him! – and strode over to Eliete and Edgeworth, still happily beaming at one another, her tiny hand remaining clasped in his.

While I suppose if you don’t know about Edgy’s grumpy disposition and judge him solely at first glance, he comes across as somewhat charming, the defense attorney was forced to admit to himself, plastering a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hola, Eliete,” he greeted the Latina, purposely extending his palm and finally forcing the prosecutor to reluctantly drop his own so she could shake it. “Soy Phoenix Wright. Hablas inglés?”

Eliete nodded, her friendly dark eyes twinkling as she shook his hand, although her admiring expression seemed to have been exclusively reserved for his friend.

“Si, I speak English, Señor Wright, although I do appreciate the efforts of you kind gentlemen to speak to me in my native tongue,” she replied cheerfully. “Now that I see you up close, I recognize you from the papers. You’re the legendary Phoenix Wright! My oldest daughter, Leia, is a huge fan and has the biggest crush on you!”

Phoenix felt a fiery blush creeping across his face.

Alrighty then! I’m not going to judge Edgeworth anymore for acting like a complete tool just now! This woman could charm the pants off the Pope! I don’t know what his weak spot was, but for me, it’s that gorgeous Cuban accent!

The hairdresser noted the pinkness in his cheeks and her smile became more playful.

“Es verdad! Leia goes to as many of your court trials as possible just to watch you from the gallery! Don’t worry, the girl is no homewrecker; she knows you’re married!” She teased. “But I shall have to tell her that you’re even more handsome in person! I think she’s a sucker for those spikes!”

Phoenix didn’t think it was possible for his face to get any redder, but at that point, he was pretty sure you could have roasted a marshmallow on his cheeks!

“Personally…” The hairdresser’s tone took on a slightly teasing edge as she flashed a wink at Edgeworth. “I’ve always had a weakness for men in cravats myself.”

The prosecutor’s usually stern phizog broke into an embarrassed smile of pleasure while his face turned crimson.

Yes, historically the fluttery frilly napkin thingies were last seen as fashionable by 17th-century military men, and then later favored by both Bram Stoker’s Dracula and Nosferatu’s doppelganger, Manfred von Karma! Phoenix added silently, noting the goofy, flattered smile on Edgeworth’s face that was only surpassed by his reddened cheeks. Yeesh, the two of us must look like real lady-killers here, what with both of us being grown-ass, married men in our 40’s, blushing like schoolboys at the friendly flirtations of a woman whom we’ve only just met!

“So…” The hairdresser looked back and forth between the two attorneys. “Despite the current circumstances which prove that something really bad must have happened here, I can see evidence, Señor. Edgeworth, that you once had two beautiful, normal-looking niños! Moreover, Señor Wright, I’m assuming su hija did not always resemble somebody that your wife, the famous spirit medium, could channel, and that su hijo did not always look like the victim of a Gulf oil spill!”

Phoenix shuffled his feet awkwardly. Edgeworth jammed his hands in his pockets. The two looked down, shamefaced, in silence.

Neither still had any idea about how to reply to the questions to which neither still as of yet knew the answers!

“Well?” Eliete prompted. “Is somebody going to tell me what happened so that I can try to undo all the damage? It would help if I knew what was in the hair, and I’m sure there’s a story to go with it, for starters …?”

Mia let out a long-suffering sigh and hopped off the couch. She walked up to Eliete and flashed her most disarming smile.

“Since the twins have been calling each other liars the entire night every time either one of them tries to tell the story, I guess that leaves me as the only neutral third-party that can be the key witness here,” she began. “But before I do, I just wanted to tell you something.”

“What’s that, niña bonita?” Eliete squatted down so they were at eye level and smiled indulgently into the angelic face.

“When I told my Daddy that there was a boy in my junior kindergarten class who kept staring at me and turning red every time he did, Daddy said that was probably because he thought I was pretty and it made him shy,” Mia explained. “You’re really pretty, too. I think that’s why Daddy and Uncle Miles’ faces turn into tomatoes every time you look at them and smile at them.”

Eliete only giggled softly in response as both attorneys groaned inwardly and wished they could vanish right there and then! Behind them, Gumshoe snickered into his hand, glad he wasn’t the only one to morph into doofus mode in the presence of a foxy female!

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Mila reassured Edgeworth kindly. “Like Mommy always says, you’re allowed to look, just not touch!”

“That’s right!” Gregory chimed in. “Mommy also says if Daddy ever touches, she will chop his hand off!”

“I thought Mommy said she’d chop his Glied off?” Mila looked at her twin in confusion.

“She did! But when I asked her with that meant, she got all red-faced, and told me that Glied meant another word for hand in German!”

Edgeworth gave a low moan of humiliation and buried his face in his hands then.

“Really? Your Mommy says that?” Mia asked the twins in surprise. “My Mommy just says: “It’s alright to look, Nick, you’re married, not buried!”

“Alright children, I think you’ve made your point!” Hendricks mercifully intervened as he strode into the room just then, before the two men died of mortification. He triumphantly jingled a pair of keys in his hand, which he immediately handed to the police chief. “I believe these belong to you, Señor. Gumshoe. Master Edgeworth, the toilet snaking was a success, and both twins’ bedrooms have been cleaned, as has the kitchen. Your house is now essentially restored to pre-babysitting orderliness. Do you require anything else, or shall I retire?”

He’s still threatening to retire?! Edgeworth looked about ready to faint.

“Do relax, Sir.” The butler grinned impishly. “I merely meant for the evening!”

I’m assuming Edgeworth keeps Hendricks around because he’s a miracle worker! Phoenix shook his head at the still-smirking Englishman. Because that man has one warped, borderline sadistic sense of humor!

“You are a godsend, Hendricks.” Edgeworth smiled gratefully as the unnerved expression slowly left his visage. “Thank you so much. I do believe that will be all.”

“Sorry to have interrupted this most entertaining exercise in embarrassing both your fathers to the extreme, children.” The butler winked as he headed towards the door. “However, Mia, I do believe you were in the middle of explaining to the lovely lady what happened here tonight. As much as I would love to hear it myself, I profess my exhaustion from restoring things to proper order far outweighs my curiosity! I figure I can read all about the details in the accompanying story to the dual homicide headline in tomorrow’s paper!”

He chuckled as both men simultaneously turned ghostly white at the British wit, while Gumshoe erupted into helpless giggles alongside Eliete, who still couldn’t help but think what loco sentido del humor these gringos had!

“I jest, of course!” Hendricks bowed grandly then. “Rest assured, all tell-tale evidence has been abolished from the premises! On that note, I shall take my leave now, and bid you all good evening.”

“Goodnight, Hendricks!” Everyone chorused, all except for Ace, whose chirp of “Byee Hand-Dicks!” Was a farewell parting entirely in a league of its own!

“Go ahead, Mia.” Mila crossed her arms and smiled smugly. “It’s time our Daddies know how I’ve been telling the truth all along, and that this was all Gregory’s fault!”

“It was not!” Gregory shrieked, right on cue, lunging at his sister.

“Is too!” Mila curled her hands into ready fists and waved them at her brother like a prizefighter.

Gumshoe had to come and stand between the struggling twins, with a ham-sized palm pressed tightly against each of their heads to prevent them from attacking one another!

“Enough!” Edgeworth shouted at his children, who sulkily stopped being in fratricidal and sororicidal mode then, but the police chief remained at his post of standing between the two of them like a human Berlin Wall, just in case. “Mia, carry on. Uncle Phoenix and I will be the judge and jury about who’s to blame once we finally hear this long-overdue story!”

“OK, Uncle Miles, Daddy.” Mia took a deep breath. “This is what really happened…”

Flashback to earlier that evening…

Mia Fey-Wright, Mila Edgeworth, and Gregory Edgeworth
Mila’s Bedroom, Edgeworth Penthouse, Los Angeles

“We are gonna look so cool and grown-up!” Mila squealed excitedly as she put the last streak of the blue marker on her front bangs. “Mia, can you just make sure that the ends in the back are all covered too? I can’t reach those!”

Her friend obliged and then stepped back to admire their shared handiwork.

“That is so neat!” Mia exclaimed and clapped her hands. “It looks just like your Mommy’s hair color now!”

“It does not!” Gregory interrupted suddenly, swooping down as if from nowhere. “Mommy’s hair is more grayish blue, Mila. Yours just looks like a Smurf peed all over it, or something.”

“Ugh!” Mia wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting!”

“It does so look like Mommy’s, Sie dumm fuhrt!” Mila spun around and examined her reflection in her vanity mirror, then turned to face her brother with a scowl. “I  happen to like it! You’re just a dumb, smelly boy! What do you know about beauty stuff anyway?”

“I don’t need to know about stupid girly stuff to know my colors!” Gregory folded his arms across his chest. “And I’m telling you that’s the wrong color blue if you’re trying to look like Mommy! It’s too bright and it looks stupid!”

“Your face looks stupid!” Mila snapped back.

“Girls play the lamest, dumbest things!” He retorted with a sneer. “Why don’t you guys play something more fun, with me?”

“Mia is my friend and we’re playing beauty dress-up so get lost, Dummkopf!” Mila glared at her twin. “Now get out of my room! Go play with Ace!”

“We were watching Barney in my room, but then he got bored and just took off somewhere,” Gregory shrugged. “So now I need someone to play with.”

“Well, go play in traffic then! Get lost, Gregory! No boys allowed!”

“But I’m bored!” he whined. “I don’t want to play all by myself! Even girls are better than nothing.”

“Gee, thanks a lot!” Mia scowled at him.

“Well, I guess you’re OK, for a girl!” Gregory conceded with a silly grin, which she couldn’t help but return. “Come on Mia, don’t you want to do something way funner, like play slip n’ slide with me or something?”

“Slip n’ slide?” Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s so cool! Come with me, and I’ll show you!” Eagerly, he grabbed Mia by the hand and attempted to pull her away.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Mila yelled, grabbing Mia’s other hand so that the two of them were playing tug-of-war on each side of the poor girl as each tried to pull her in their own direction. “Mia is supposed to be playing with me!”

“She’s my friend too! It’s not fair that you get to hog her all the time!”

“Time out! Hold it! Guys, you’re making arms hurt!” Mia exclaimed, finally pulling her hands free from each twin and shaking her arms dramatically. “Stop fighting, you two! I have an idea!”

She affixed the twins with earnest eyes.

“Mila, I don’t want to be mean to Gregory and leave him out. Since Ace is pretty much still a baby, I usually have nobody to play with at home either, and it kinda stinks, so I know how he feels! How about you and I keep playing dress-up for a little bit, while he sets up the slip n’ slide, and then we can all play? Is that fair?”

“I guess that’s fine,” Mila admitted grumpily.

“Yeah that’s way fair,” Gregory grinned happily. “I will go set up the slide now! You’re the best, Mia!” He suddenly reached out and gave her a huge squeeze, then planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be right back!” Then he ran out of the room.

“Gross! He put his nasty boy cooties all over you!” Mila shuddered and offered her friend a tissue from her dresser. “Here, you want to wipe his goober off?”

She studied Mia’s face and realized that rather than looking grossed out, the little girl wore a giddy smile and was clutching her cheek in one hand on the spot where Gregory had kissed her.

“Your brother’s sooo cute,” she cooed, gazing at the disgusted Mila with starry eyes.

“Blech! No, he’s not! He picks his nose and sometimes forgets to flush the toilet when he does number two!” Mila wrinkled her nose. “You know he does everything he can to make my life miserable!” She grimaced at her friend’s blushing face and assumed a dismayed expression. “Ick! Don’t tell me you like him or something? Gregory’s nothing more than a dumb, gross boy!”

“He’s nice to me,” Mia mumbled. “Besides, he’s not being dumb in this case and may have a point about your hair color being too bright to be like Aunt Franny’s! Maybe we can make it less bright somehow?”

“Humph!”

Mila scrutinized her reflection in the mirror again.

“I hate giving that certified, grade-A, nimrod credit for anything, but he may have had a point,” she grumbled. “Although, I do have an idea about how we can make my hair less bright. We’re learning colors right now and the teacher says if you want to make a color paler, just add white!”

“That sounds great!” Mia enthused. “Hey, can we also put some white in my hair, and add color after to make super cool pastel shades with the markers?”

“For sure!”

“But what will we use for white?”

“We have some powder in the guest bathroom! I’ll be right back!”

As Mila ran out to get it, Gregory came back in, slowly unrolling an economy-sized roll of gift wrap from one end of the bedroom to the other, a bottle of baby oil in his free hand.

“This is going to be so sweet!” He grinned, blowing a huge bubble with his gum, snapping it, and then sucking it back into his mouth with expertise as he began dribbling baby oil onto the paper.

“I wish I knew how to blow bubbles,” Mia said wistfully. “Every time I try, I keep spitting it onto the ground!”

“Here, I brought you a piece,” Gregory said shyly, reaching into his pocket and handing her a big, bright pink gumball. “Just chew it until it gets soft, and then I maybe I can teach you? It’s really easy!”

“OK!” She popped the gumball into her mouth and smiled at him. “Thank you, Gregory.”

“Anything for you, Mia.” He flashed her a goofy grin and she ducked her head bashfully.

“Yuck! Jeepers, Mia, if you like my dork pie brother so much, why don’t you just marry him?” Mila returned at that moment in time to catch the exchange between them, a huge bottle of baby powder in her hand, and a scowl on her face.

Mia blushed furiously.

“Maybe I will ask her to marry me when I get bigger!” Gregory stuck out his tongue at his sister. “Then she’ll have to play with me first, and you second! So take that!”

Mila looked horrified at the mere thought.

“Gah! Please don’t marry my dorky, doodie-head brother,” she begged her friend, her eyes wide with revulsion. “Why would you want to do that to yourself?!”

“Um, can we just go back to playing beauty dress-up?” Mia felt her cheeks turning pinker. “Gregory, why don’t you set up the spin n’ slide in the meantime?”

Mila cast a doubtful glance at the long roll of gift wrap stretching from one end to the other of her bedroom.

“You’re going to do it in here?”

“Well, I know you don’t like my room, because you’re always saying it smells like farts and dirty socks, so I figured if we all played in here everybody would be happy.”

“Fine, go set it up, but don’t bug us until we finish playing! I’m going to make Mia’s hair white now.”

“I like your hair the way it is, Mia. It looks pretty.” Gregory scrunched up his face then. “So why you wanna make it go white like an old lady?”

“We are gonna add the color marker to it afterward, Dummkopf!” Mila rolled her eyes. “And then we are going to put on purple and red lipstick like grown-ups!”

“Mommy wouldn’t let you wear makeup! She’d say you’re too young!”

“Not real makeup,” Mia explained patiently and gestured to the box of colored candy-coated chocolates on the dresser. “But if you lick the red or purple Smarties, and then rub it on your lips, it looks like you’re wearing lipstick.”

“Oh, OK. Anyway, is your gum soft yet?”

Mia chewed hard on the gumball in her mouth and then shook her head.

“No, not yet.”

“Keep chewing,” he advised. “You have to make it soft enough so that you can flatten it with your teeth first and then stick your tongue through it.”

Mia nodded and kept chomping. Gregory went and busied himself setting up his makeshift slide.

Mila opened the bottle of powder and slowly tapped the bottom until a small amount dusted onto Mia’s head. The little girl sneezed at first but then smiled as she looked in the mirror.

“Cool! It’s working! Once we make my hair white, I think I want to put a red marker on it, to make it pink like the Pink Princess!”

Gregory tried to slide himself, stomach down, on the oiled wrapping paper but only succeeded in getting his T-shirt greasy and tearing a hole in the section of gift wrapping paper.

“Poop! That didn’t work at all!” Frustrated, he tore off the ruined section and pulled the slightly shortened “slide” back a bit so that the end piece was now a tad further distance from the two girls, who were still in the process of adding more powder to Mia’s hair.

I don’t want to get my shirt and pants all dirty and oily! Mommy will get mad! I know! I’ll just take off my pants and shirt, put the oil on my body instead of the paper, and slide that way! Mia will see how fun this is and how lame playing beauty shop is in comparison and wanna play with me then!

Yanking off his clothing, so he was wearing nothing but his underwear, Gregory figured the best way to go fastest and furthest on the slide would be to take a running jump and then drop and slide onto his tummy.

Therefore, that was just what he did, and the result of all his efforts was that Gregory Edgeworth careened at unstoppable warp-10 speed on that greasy roll!

The boy ended up catapulting headfirst into the tall Lego construction of the famous London bridge construction Mila and Edgeworth had made the week prior, and then right into his twin, who was standing right before it, and in front of Mia.

The London Bridge came falling down at the impacting force of the naked, save for his underwear, 5-year-old, 40-pound boy jetting towards it on an uncontrolled slippery surface.

The velocity of the crash made Mila stumble backward and bump into her toy box, knocking it over and emptying the vast contents onto the ground, just as Gregory skidded to a shaky stop right below his crush’s feet.

The startled Smurfette-haired girl shrieked as the collision caused a colorful rainbow of plastic blocks to begin raining down on her and Mia, causing her to unconsciously squeeze the talcum powder harder, and unceremoniously dump the entire contents of the bottle onto her friend’s head, face, clothing, and carpeting!

The additional dust going up her nose caused poor Mia to let out a huge sneeze, with the wad of now very soft gum flying out of her mouth, and into Gregory’s hair!

“Ow!” Gregory groaned. “My head!”

“Schwachkopf!” Mila screeched, her skipping rope/whip materializing as though from nowhere as she began whipping her brother furiously with it. “Look what you made me do! My room is a mess! You ruined everything! I hate you!”

“Well, if you had just let me play with you in the first place…” Gregory groaned as he struggled to sit up and put his hands over his head to thwart the lashings, unknowingly smearing Mia’s gum even further into his hair. “Ugh! This powder is everywhere! It’s even on the bed!”

Mia gaped at her now completely white face, hair, and clothing in the mirror and squealed in distress.

“Oh, no! I don’t look like The Pink Princess! I look like the ghost of an old lady!”

Staggering backward in shocked alarm, she accidentally stomped her full weight on poor Gregory’s baby finger.

“Owww!” Gregory screamed, jerking his injured pinkie away and noted that it was a nasty, angry red. While not bleeding, it was slightly bruised from where the blood vessels had risen to the surface.

“Golly lolly! I’m so sorry!” Mia gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth as she then spotted the pink gum in her love interest’s platinum locks. “Gregory! My gum! It’s all over your hair! Now I’m even more sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” Mila snapped. “This all his fault!”

She grabbed a pair of her paper scissors from her desk and yanked at the gum-matted hair on her twin’s head.

“Now hold still, Dummkopf!  I’m going to have to cut it out!”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mia asked nervously. “Maybe we should go get your Daddy or mine? I mean, what if you cut too much? You’re not a hairdresser!”

“Yeah, Mila!” Gregory attempted to yank his head away from his sister’s determined fingers. “Leggo my hair!”

“Well you wanted to play with us, and we were playing beauty dress-up!” The crafty smile on Mila’s face as she yielded the scissors in the air was downright frightening! “Consider this your beauty makeover!”

“No!” Gregory threw himself on the ground in his haste to get away, and clapped his hands over his head as he cowered face down on the carpet. “Go away! You’re mean! And my finger still hurts!”

Undaunted, Mila leaned over and grabbed the gum-laden piece of his hair again.

“Hold still!”  She instructed. “It’s not that big of a piece that I’m going to need to cut!”

However, the more she tried to keep a grip on his hair, the more Gregory insisted on jerking his head, trying to make her stop.

“Stop moving, you big cootie!” She ordered. “These scissors aren’t as sharp as real ones so I need to press down extra hard!  I’m going to end up cutting off more hair because your squirming is gonna make me miss the spot!”

“I can’t watch this!” Mia covered her face with her hands as she saw more and more flaxen chunks falling to the ground.

“There!” Mila finally announced triumphantly. “I got the gum piece out!”

She had been so intent on her task that she hadn’t realized that half the hair on her brother’s head was mostly gone until that moment, and as he shook his head, additional chopped locks fell off!

“Uh-oh…”

“Uh-oh?” Gregory regarded her with panic and clapped a hand to the side of his newly shorn head. “What did you do to me, sie Hexe?!”

Jumping to his feet, his wild eyes saw his reflection in the mirror for the first time.

“I’m – I’m bald!”

“Not quite…” Mila offered weakly, flushing guiltily. “It’s just the one side that’s kinda short! In addition, it will grow back… Eventually…”

“I hate you, you fart pick!” Gregory’s face crumpled then, and he burst into tears. “Look what you did to me! You made me all ugly!”

He threw himself face-first on the ground and wept bitterly, despite the newly white-haired Mia’s unsuccessful attempts to consolingly pat him on the shoulder.

“Stop making such a racket!” Mila cried. “Our Daddies are going to hear you, and then we’ll all get in trouble! Is that what you want?!”

Gregory didn’t appear to hear her, as he was too busy launching into full-blown, hysterical, nuclear meltdown mode as he pounded his kicking feet and fists into the ground while screaming at an earsplitting decibel.

“Wahhhh! I want my Mommy!”

Back to the Present

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

Gumshoe was at a complete loss for words when he heard about the equal opportunity guilt of the two partners in crime. He mumbled something about having to get back to his kids, and excused himself right then and there, lest he be asked to sit on the judge and jury tribunal!

There was a stunned silence in the living room as the fathers were finally able to piece together the catastrophic hair mystery at last.

Edgeworth turned to his best friend, obviously to get his take on the chain of events, but Phoenix wordlessly flopped onto the couch, Ace still in his arms, and dropped his head back against the cushions, unable to speak.

“And that’s the whole story,” Mia finished, biting her lip and then looking over the twins. “Did I miss anything?”

They both shook their heads, their eyes on the floor.

“I cannot believe you tried to pin this whole mess on your brother, Mila!” Edgeworth exclaimed at last, as he glowered at his daughter. “While Gregory is surely not blameless in this matter, he is hardly the sole perpetrator of this crime! I am beyond disappointed in you, young lady!”

With that, the prosecutor silently fell back onto his armchair and buried his head in his hands.

Nobody spoke. Both slumped-shouldered twins continued to look morosely at the ground.

“Playing dress-up,” Eliete sighed, shaking her head in an understanding fashion. “I should have guessed. My youngest daughter, Alia, is 11, and she used to love this sort of thing when she was younger. Of course, she would limit her dressing up like Mami to just trying to wear my real makeup and tottering around in my high heels, but I have some good news.  At least I know what substance your daughter has in her hair now, Señor Edgeworth.”

Edgeworth mumbled something unintelligible in response.

“Mila, could you please go get me the box of the markers that you used on your hair?” The hairdresser asked the miserable-looking little girl.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Just as she turned to leave, Edgeworth briefly looked up from his palms and affixed his daughter with his grimmest expression.

“Mila Ema Franca Edgeworth!” He said sternly. “Just so you know, you are going to be grounded until you are old enough to get a driver’s license! And when the time does come to get your driver’s license, don’t hold your breath!”

The girl nodded meekly, and then slowly dragged her dejected form down the hall to her room.

“As for you, Gregory Skylar Franz Edgeworth,” Edgeworth continued, glancing over at his son and heaving a deep sigh. “I will be better able to focus on your punishment once I somewhat have you restored to a more normal appearance, as right now you look like some punk boy band member from the ’80s and I can’t think straight!”

He turned to look helplessly at the Latina.

“Eliete, is there anything you can do?”

Mila returned at that moment and silently handed the Latina woman the package of Crayola markers, which the hairdresser studied intently, mumbling, and nodding to herself for a moment or two. Finally, she looked up with a reassuring smile on her face.

“First things first, be glad she did not use a Sharpie permanent marker, Señor Edgeworth. These are just regular, scented children’s markers, and I have professional clarifying shampoo to get out the majority of the color. After that, to make sure her strands aren’t too damaged from such a deep washing ingredient, I will apply a Malibu treatment to it. Malibu treatments help to remove minerals and other oxidizing agents from the hair. These treatments are used in many beauty salons to help strip the existing color out of the hair.”

“How about these two?” Phoenix asked hopefully, pointing to his kids. “Victims of talcum powder and some kind of weird fruity body oil to the head! Can they be helped?”

“Powder should just come out with a couple of washes of regular shampoo, but the oil might need the benefit of something stronger, like the Malibu treatment that I keep in my case,” the stylist replied. “To be honest, Mia, Ace, and Mila will be among the easiest people to handle. Gregory will be the biggest challenge. Señor Edgeworth, my understanding is you are trying to keep all this evidence from this catastrophic event hidden from your wives, correct?”

Edgeworth nodded slowly and rubbed his temples.

“Well, the worst-case scenario with your daughter is that there might be a hint of blue marker left after I attempted to restore it to its platinum blonde color. Even if that’s the case, you might be able to even get away with telling some of the truth, which is that Mila was trying to look pretty like her famous German Mommy.”

A wry smile crossed the stylist’s lips when Edgeworth looked surprised that Franziska’s identity was recognized.

“I’m very well aware of who your wife is, Señor Edgeworth. Franziska Von Karma’s prodigy prosecution skills were very well known back in the day, as was her fierceness with that whip of hers!” Eliete tittered softly. “I’m thinking what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. You might be able to soften the blow of your son’s impromptu makeover – and possibly that whip of hers! – by claiming that Gregory, in turn, wanted to get a haircut, just like his Daddy.”

Edgeworth eyed her blankly.

“I am afraid I am not following you. I did not cut my hair.”

“Yet.” Phoenix inserted, biting back an amused smile as the realization of what was being suggested dawned upon him. The knowledge then sank into his best friend, as evidenced by the growing expression of horror on Edgeworth’s face as he shook his head violently.

“No! You cannot be serious!” He raked a hand through his signature long bangs, where even the shortest pieces fell to the bottom of his chiseled square jawline. “I cannot cut my hair! I have had this style for as long as I can remember!”

“That’s all the more reason you’re due for a change!” Eliete coaxed cheerfully. “What is the problem with getting a makeover, Señor Edgeworth? I’m sure your wife will be happy to see more of that rostro Hermoso of yours, no?”

“Daddy,” Gregory said softly. “I know I’m still gonna be in trouble for everything that happened tonight, but…the reason I was so sad about getting my hair chopped off like that was I liked having long bangs like you! Now, my hair is going to be short, but it won’t be so bad… if I could still manage to look like my handsome Daddy.”

“Ngh!” Edgeworth moaned and twirled a silky ash-colored lock of hair around his finger, looking at it mournfully, even though Phoenix and the hairdresser could hear him completely wavering under the weight of his son’s words.

“Come on, Edgy!” Phoenix flashed his friend his best shit-eating grin. “You’ve had more than two decades of having a bird on your head! Besides, it’ll grow back!”

Edgeworth glared at him.

“I don’t see you rushing towards the shears to be cutting off those ridiculous porcupine spikes of yours, Wright!”

“I could do it if want me to Señor Wright,” Eliete offered. “It would break my daughter’s heart of course, as she’s a big fan of that pointy hair …”

“Heh, heh, so is my wife.” Phoenix chuckled and put a protective hand over his trademark spikes. “Perhaps I would cut them if I were trying to match my son’s hairdo, Edgeworth. However, as you see, even with the greasy weight of whatever crazy oily substance you had in that mystery black bottle of yours, Ace’s spikes, which are a chip off the old block, are still very much prominent, and I’m happy to keep it that way!”

Eliete reached into her traveling case then and whipped out her comb and shears. Smiling mischievously at Gregory, who had climbed up onto his father’s lap on the recliner, and then at the Chief Prosecutor, she made a snipping motion with the scissors and looked expectantly at the two Edgeworth males.

“So, who’s up first?”

A soft whimpering sound emitted from the armchair in response to the question.

And it wasn’t from Gregory.