3 Blazing Saddles

Notes:

JP: This will be the sole OC chapter. The character of the blonde bombshell, Tiffany Pierce, may seem familiar to a few of you who’ve read my stuff, as she was the catalyst in Nick and Maya’s relationship in the Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy part one, (her debut was in Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman) and since then I’ve made a point to mention her and/or give her a guest-starring role in a couple of my other fan-fics. She’s a hoot, and not just because of her hooters! I hope you guys get a kick out of her as much as I do!

Blindknyttstories: So JP wrote this and threatne- I mean ASKED me for suggestions. It’s a great chapter and continues to show why she is a great writer (Received water from anonymous, still need food.)

People Park – July 4, 2023

In Southern California, July was definitely in the heart of what could be called official summer weather. The season seemed like a redundant thing to take note of, seeing as how Phoenix and Trucy lived in Los Angeles where it was essentially 80 degrees year-round. But this particular day was a scorcher. At least 102 degrees.

Ergo, it was officially too hot for him to wear his aqua Papa beanie his daughter had given him, or his customary joggers and hooded sweatshirt which had replaced his blue lawyer suit the past four years as his standard attire. So since he had nothing better to do, Phoenix downed his typical bottle of wine for breakfast, did his customary 100 push-ups, crunches, and his other regular calisthenics, then donned on shorts, runners, and a tank top, and decided to go for his customary jog in People Park.

Onlookers may have called him crazy for running in this sweltering heat at high noon, but he didn’t care. He’d been called worse.

Moreover, he was now accustomed to jogging, a habit he’d picked up shortly after losing his badge, and he enjoyed working up a sweat. It cleansed him of the toxins that felt like they were building up inside of him, both from his odious, self-directed thoughts and the second bottle of red he’d downed before he’d headed out. It was stronger than the typical swill he normally downed at the bar, and it had packed a harder punch than Tyson. It was a special occasion, so he thought he’d splurge. After all, today was the nation’s birthday – he’d just started celebrating early that was all. Besides, it was 5:00 pm somewhere, right?

His daughter was still away, and he didn’t work that night, as his pianist/poker player days were 6:00 pm – 2:00 am Thursday to Sunday. This meant a long solo day, and an even longer solo evening loomed ahead of him. He hated days like this, because all he could do was dip into his steady stash of bottles, which he’d somehow fooled his daughter all this time into thinking was grape juice, and think. A potentially dangerous situation.

Loneliness was Phoenix’s only dependable friend, there morning, noon, and night. The women would come and go, the wine ran dry, but always the empty yawning persisted. Nothing ever touched it, not his love affairs or poker or piano playing, which he’d become passable at now, and never the social media that was his constant poison when he looked up the lives of those he’d once known.

Trucy had been his sole beacon of hope, his light, since his disbarment. She was the one and only thing that had given him a purpose in life again, and he cherished every moment he had with her.

She would be off to college in just a few short years. Then he’d be all alone again. The thought was unbearable. He loved her so much. Too much. He needed her. What he was going to do when she was gone?

Everyone he’d ever loved was gone now, one way or another. His parents…Mia…Miles…Pearls…and…

Phoenix picked up the pace then as if trying to run away from his painful thoughts. The sun beat down on his jet-black hair, making him wonder if he’d have been better off covering his head with his beanie after all.

The sweat trickled down his back, free-flowing like condensation on a windowpane. It beaded on his forehead and dripped from his chin. His head began to spin.

He could feel, hear and see that everything behind him was slowly and heavily rolling up like a carpet. All the huge trees in front of him were aware of the fact that they would have to roll up, too. They were greeting him, first bowing and caressing him with their branches as he zipped past them as if they wanted to show appreciation for the fact that he had visited the greenery-laden park and enjoyed every bit of it before said trees began “preparing” for the roll-up.

Phoenix rubbed his forehead. Maybe drinking wine and then running during the sun’s peak hours hadn’t been one of his brighter ideas.

He stopped mid-trot and bent over slightly, bracing his hands on his thighs. He wasn’t feeling so hot all of a sudden.

As a matter of fact…he was definitely feeling too hot! The combined factors had to be affecting his now fuzzy mind…or at least his eyesight. How else to explain the messed-up vision he was now gawking at?

Standing before him, about a hundred yards away, a red-nosed clown – no wait, a blue-clad clown and a cherry-nosed gnome… stood over by a park bench. The clown appeared to be manually self-gratifying himself…and then ejaculating a long stream of rainbows from the fly of his pants… and the end of the ‘personalized special’ rainbow was a pot of gold, which was being guarded by the garden gnome, who was singing “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” continuously while trying to protect his pot of gold from the lizard people of Japan while bats swarmed around them…

Phoenix blinked, gave his head a sharp shake, and ground his eyes with his fists.

The hallucination faded away…and morphed into Moe the Clown, who was indeed pulling a rainbow out of his oversized pants…made of flowy, colorful… handkerchiefs! The gnome was the scowly-faced Victor Kudo, who was clutching his pot of gold – aka his trusty bag of birdseed – which he was pelting in protest at the clown, while dozens of pigeons, not bats, swarmed around the two.

Disturbingly enough though…Kudo actually was singing the famous ‘tripping‘ tune by the Beatles. Even more surreal was that undaunted by the onslaught, Moe continued doing his everlasting hanky trick and then began singing along with the assaulter!

Phoenix shook his head again, did an about-face, and began sprinting in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

After this, he going to invest in a freakin baseball cap!

At last, he spotted a drinking fountain, which thankfully was real, and not another figment of his overwrought imagination! Damn, the blazing sun was merciless that day! The steady summer heat was becoming far less bearable with each moment. He was only halfway through his regular jogging regimen and was completely spent after just half an hour! He splashed some of the cool water onto his face and had to refill his water bottle twice before he felt even remotely quenched.

How he yearned for someplace indoors with air-conditioning! However, seeing none around, he had to settle for the shade from a nearby tree. He propped himself up against the coarse trunk and closed his eyes as he felt his one stubborn loose lock of hair sticking to the perspiration on his forehead.

Semi-hydrated, but still exhausted and overheated, he squirted the welcoming cold liquid from the bottle onto his head and glistening chest, not caring that the action mingled with the sweat and made the thin white material stick to him in clinging wet patches.

Suddenly he heard a loud wolf whistle of appreciation a few feet away.

“Damn, didn’t think I’d be getting a show at the park today, you sexy thing! Why don’t you do us all a favor and just take that hot, sweaty shirt off?”

Disgusted, Phoenix opened one eye. A busty, curvaceous blonde in booty shorts had halted just a few feet away from him on the path, so he figured the fat, lecherous brute, who was standing behind her, with the creepy smile of appreciation on his sweaty face, had been the one cat-calling her.

“I didn’t know there was going to be a wet-shirt contest today, hot stuff!” Said beast continued as he lasciviously looked Phoenix up and down. “But I’m just going to make myself a judge and put you right in the first place!”

Phoenix’s eyes went round with shock and disbelief. Jesus Christ…this vile, vulgar, soggy-hog of a man… had been talking to him? A horrified look at the horn-dog’s appreciative expression confirmed his harrowing suspicions.

Oh dear God of all the times for me not to be hallucinating or hearing things! He thought wildly. Give me Moe the Clown jacking off and shooting out rainbow splooge over this nightmare, any day!

Phoenix’s mouth opened to speak some sort of scathing retort, but no words came out. Mercifully, he was beaten to the punch by the woman, whose forcefully biting tone was the sharp equivalent of Franziska Von Karma’s whip.

“Git outta here you lewd, cotton-pickin’ varmint!” The blonde snapped at the man, her sharp southern twang magnified by her indignation. “Yew, sir, are no gentleman! Ima jerk a knot in your tail, cuz this kinda crude tawking is rank enough to gag a maggot off a gut wagon, even though I know ya ain’t talking to me!”

“I don’t think his fine behind needs your defense,” the man retorted, continuing to lick his lips as he leered at Phoenix. “Do you, sweet cheeks?”

Phoenix barely resisted the urge to throw up in his own mouth.

“He wouldn’t spit in yer ass if yer guts were on fire!” The blonde countered, putting her hands on her shapely hips and glaring at him. “Fer one thing, I reckon yer barking up the wrong tree! And even if this fella were light in the loafers, he could still do better than yew! Hells bells, if I had a dawg as ugly as yew, I’d shave his butt and make him walk backward! Not to mention yer ripe stench smells bad enough to knock a dog off a gut wagon! Now git outta here, ya low-down scoundrel!”

The man looked wounded by the steady stream of insults – half of which Phoenix could barely comprehend – and just stood there, gaping at her in shock.

“I said git!” The blonde jerked her thumb in the opposite direction as her glower deepened. The swine opened his mouth to speak, ultimately thought the better of it, and finally slunk off dejectedly.

Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief as he craned his neck and saw that the perv was gone.

“That was incredible. Thanks so much miss…” he began, smiling at the avenging angel who had just saved him from the mother of all awkward situations. But as she stepped closer to the shady tree, and out of the blinding sunlight, his eyes widened in surprised recognition.

Standing there, in her statuesque, pneumatic bombshell glory, was Tiffany Pierce, his friendly neighborhood waitress, and fellow colleague, at the Borscht Bowl.

“Tiffany?”

“Well, saddle my back and call me a horse!” She squinted at him. “Phoenix Wright, is that yew?”

Phoenix was used to seeing the vixenish blonde in skimpy numbers – the tiny cocktail waitress uniform she wore at work didn’t leave a man much need for the imagination of her visible…assets.

Right now though, she was in even less than usual, in a pair of skimpy booty shorts and halter top in an effort to beat the heat. On her mile-long, shapely tanned legs she wore a pair of Rollerblades. A sunny smile on her lovely face completed the picture of the fantasy pinup California girl.

As his co-worker looked at him with friendly curiosity and surprise in her cerulean eyes, Phoenix suddenly felt very self-conscious at having someone he knew, especially a total babe Tiffany, having been the one to witness him being the victim of untoward sexual harassment – and by something that had resembled a man!

First Larry, and now that lecher within a week! Jeez Louise, how and why did I suddenly become man candy?! To top it all off, I am presently a human Wet-Nap! There’s probably enough sweat in my tank top to float the Titanic!

He tried to run a quick hand through his hair to brush back that stubborn bang, which made him undoubtedly look like a wannabe dorky Superman, but felt it fall back into its usual spot on his head a moment later.

Cursing inwardly, all he could do was loop his thumbs into his shorts pocket and hope to look casual in front of the ever immaculately groomed glamazon.

“Thanks so much for that, Tiffany.” He grinned, having no idea how attractive it made him. “I don’t think I could have gotten rid of that creep anywhere near as effectively!”

“Yer quite welcome! I’m happier than a tornado in a trailer park that I could git that filthy pig to run outta here like a scalded haint!” She grinned back. “Some folks just ain’t got no manners! Didn’t that whole thang just take the rag off the bush?”

Phoenix decided to switch topics. He knew when Tiffany was on a tangent she tended to go off on her Southern rants for some time, and he was anxious to have her go back to speaking a language his Yankee self could understand!

“I thought I was the only one insane enough to try to work out in this heat,” he joked.

“Well, a gal’s gotta maintain her figure if she’s going to fit into that itty-bitty work uniform, right cutie?” Tiffany let out a silvery laugh. She cast a salacious glimpse at him, head to toe, and bit her lip. “But I can’t say I blame that rascal for his appreciation of yer person! Lawd have mercy, Phoenix! I had no inklin’ what a sight for sore eyes ya were under them baggy sweats ya wear to the bar every day! How have yew managed to keep a physique like that hidden all these years we done been workin’ together at that blasted watering hole?”

Phoenix felt his face grow hot then, and it had nothing to do with the heat or the wine he’d consumed. Having never been a ladies’ man –women tended to chat him up, not vice versa! – He looked down at the ground bashfully, for the second time that day, uncertain how to respond.

“It’s cold at the bar,” he mumbled. “You know how Boris and Natasha like to keep the place to as authentic a Russian experience as possible in there – I’d freeze to death in those Siberian temperatures if I wore this kind of ensemble to work! And you know The Hydeout dealer room is even chillier than the bar itself!”

“Damn communist skinflints,” Tiffany muttered, acknowledging the truth in the statement. “That’s why he keeps it so dang frigid in there – he refuses to pay the heating bill! Curse that Boris… dang peckerwood’s tighter than a bull’s ass at fly time!”

“I thought it was so customers would buy more booze to feel warmer,” Phoenix chuckled. “You have to admit, it works! I personally need at least two or three bottles to get through a shift myself so I don’t turn into a Popsicle.”

“Bless your heart! We both know yer prettier than a glob of butter melting on a stack of pancakes!” Tiffany winked, her full lips curving into a sensual smile. “Therefore, I do declare Phoenix, if the likes yew ever got too cold, ya’d find some way to keep warm!”

This time, despite the Southern colloquium, the meaning wasn’t lost on Phoenix, whose mood had improved greatly since he’d bumped into the flirtatious femme fatale. He knew Tiffany was a man-eater with a reputation for being the county bicycle – rumor had it that most of the male staff and regular patrons had given her a ride! – but the longer he talked to the Southern belle, the more he found himself enjoying her company. She was funny, ballsy, did wonders for his ego, which had taken a battering since the disbarring. Moreover, she was just a genuinely fun person to be around. He wondered if he could manage to steel up the courage to ask her out for that evening – holidays were always hard for him, especially without Trucy around, and more than anything in the world, he didn’t want to be alone that night.

“Tiffany, I was wondering…do you have any Fourth of July festivities planned tonight?” He asked, before he lost his nerve, then immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut as her eyes widened in amazement. “I mean, if you don’t have anything better to do I um, was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out with me?”

He swallowed. It’d been a gamble, of course – a pretty girl like Tiffany probably had a full dance card well into the next millennium. No way would she consider spending time with him when she undoubtedly had a mile-long list of suitors…

“Why I’ll be!” Tiffany tipped her head to the side and flashed him a megawatt smile. “Phoenix Wright, did yew just ask me out on a date?”

“Um…” Phoenix blushed furiously and scratched the back of his neck. “Not if you’re going to say no…”

“Honey, yer so sweet I could eat ya with a spoon!” The waitress let out a tinkly laugh. “I gotta admire yer whole-hog approach of just cutting right to the chase of Tiffany! How do, thanks for saving my tail, do ya got anything better to do tonight than go out with me?”

Despite the teasing note in her voice, he still felt the sharp sting of the words. He didn’t know how to react.

“I’d better get going,” Phoenix muttered dismally, pushing himself up off the tree and flashing a weak smile. “I should have figured a popular girl like you would be busy…but I thought there would be no harm in asking…I guess I’ll see you around…” He turned to leave, but she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face her amused expression.

“Don’t let yer mouth overload your tail, you sweet talking’ thing!” Tiffany chided, taking her nail and running it down his arm. “Ya just caught me with my pants down, is all! Lookit here – ya got me grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater with yer invite! I’d be delighted, to go out with ya, Phoenix! Hail, I’ve only been batting my eyelashes at ya for the past four years! I jist can’t believe ya decide to pick one of the busiest nights at the bar to finally rustle up the grits to make a move!”

“Oh, you’re working tonight? OK, no worries then…”

“Will ya relax, big boy? Even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then,” she said airily. “I was supposed to be working but…” her eyes twinkled mischievously. “I switched shifts with Anita Lai at the bar tonight because she owes me a favor. What say yew and me get together at my place tonight and just lie like bumps on a log? Relax, just pop in a movie, maybe see some fireworks from my 20th-floor balcony?”

“Sounds good!” The relief was evident in Phoenix’s voice as he beamed at her. “We could just order a pizza or something…how’s 7?” He passed her his cell phone to input her phone number and address, then she passed it back to him with a smile. “I can bring some wine?”

“That works. Pizza’s on me then. Ya better be there with bells on!” Tiffany stretched her arms over her head, her bosom straining against the sheer fabric of her hot-pink halter, and got ready to get rolling again. “And one more thing, sugar?”

“What’s that?” He asked, somewhat dazed at the sight of the graceful sway of her legs as she began to skate away.

“Yew know how I said we could watch some fireworks?” She flashed a sassy wink over her shoulder as he nodded. “Well, ya play your cards right, stud, and I’m not completely against making them, either!”

With those as her final words, she was gone, leaving a very hot and bothered Phoenix Wright in her wake, wondering exactly how he was going to get through the next six hours with that image seared in his mind…without something explosive going off within him!

He shook his head in wonder.

Tiffany Pierce…lady you are a  piece of work …make that, a  firework!