90 I Am Number One!
“ I Am Number One”
Sung to the tune of
“We Are Number One”
from Lazy Town
It was the evening of the Police and Prosecutor Choice Awards, a time when prosecutors and members of the many divisions of the LAPD came together to celebrate the previous year’s accomplishments over a nice dinner at the precinct. So as one would expect, the precinct’s spacious, all-purpose room was decorated to the nines for the occasion. After all, heaven forbid that the prosecutors – especially Manfred von Karma and his young protégé, Miles Edgeworth – were seen in an environment that was less than immaculate.
The room’s grey carpet, which was usually pretty clean, to begin with, was so thoroughly steamed that not a single speck of dirt was present on its fluffed appearance. The numerous tables scattered around the room that were all being used by various prosecutors and police officers were each covered with a pristine table cloth that was as white as snow and a colorful centerpiece consisting of several flowers – daffodils, hydrangeas, Oleanders, and a number of others – and a golden miniature version of the commonplace Lady Justice statue in which the ends of her scales were replaced with a prosecutor’s badge and a police badge. Though the most noticeable feature of the room was the large stage that was situated at the room’s front-center, making it impossible to miss – especially considering how all the spotlights shining on its reflective glossy surface made the rest of the room look pitch-black by comparison.
Though if there was one thing that was even brighter than the stage itself, it was Damon Gant’s usual orange suit as he stood on the stage as Chief Prosecutor Blaise Debeste handed him his King of Detectives award, a mid-sized trophy that featured a gaudy silver magnifying glass and dusting brush positioned in an x-shape on top of a black-painted iron pedestal, before returning to his table at the front of the room.
“Hey, Manny! Look at my award!” Gant excitedly whispered as he took his seat to the veteran prosecutor’s left and Lana’s right. “Pretty impressive, eh?”
“King of Detectives…? Bah! You’d be better off examining an ant colony and deciding which ant is better than the rest,” Manfred sneered with a hushed voice. “Because at least ants know how to obey orders and do their job properly, unlike certain detectives…”
“Sir, don’t you think that’s a bit cruel?” Edgeworth calmly whispered. “I know that we prosecutors are the backbone of the legal world, but shouldn’t detectives have at least a few moments of glory in their otherwise bleak existence?”
“Tell you what, Miles, when you win more awards than me, you can tell me how to think.” Manfred curtly responded as he squeezed his bicep.
“Well, considering how both you and Edgeworth are currently tied at a grand total of zero awards tonight, von Karma, that shouldn’t be too difficult a goal to achieve,” Lana snidely commented.
“That’s because all of the awards that have been presented up until now – Perfect Attendance, Most Improved Prosecutor, King of Pay Cuts – have all been pity trophies to help console the imperfect prosecutors and the entirety of the police force who couldn’t even spell ‘capable’ if their lives depended on it. But this next award is different, for it is King of Prosecutors, the accolade made specifically for the most perfect of prosecutors. So naturally, if I am to win any award this evening, it is – oh, it’s starting. My moment of triumph.” Manfred smirked.
“Ok, everyone, here’s the award you’ve all been waiting for: King of Prosecutors. Y’see, as you all know, this is an award that we give out to only the best and brightest that the Prosecutor’s Office has to offer. After all, with how many ‘prodigy’ prosecutors who are 20 and under we have employed, it’s practically anyone’s competition, y’know? But this year’s King of Prosecutors isn’t like the others. Y’see, not only is this guy a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom, but he’s as likable as his sense of style is unusual. So, without further ado, this year’s King of Prosecutors is-“
At that moment, Blaise was interrupted by Edgeworth taking out his flute and starting to play an upbeat song as Manfred stood up and started proudly walking up on stage.
“Oh no, not this again…” Lana groaned as she facepalmed. “Only a complete moron or a sadistic troll would actually like that musical number that von Karma forces us to listen to every year.”
“Yeah! It’s happening! Manny’s number one! Manny’s number one!” Gant chuckled, clapping his gloved hands together as Manfred started singing.
{Manfred}
Bah!
I am number one!
Bah!
I am number one!
This never gets old…
Manfred paused to grab the King of Prosecutors trophy, which he proceeded to hold out with a sneer on his face for all the other prosecutors in the audience to see.
{Manfred}
My lessers trounced and my glories told,
My perfection given form to hold.
Though winning this award was hardly a feat,
For these other “prosecutors” reek of defeat.
They’re naïve like sods,
Their cases flawed,
And they dress like a bunch of frauds.
“Better to look like a fraud than a member of the Addams family!” Jake Marshall, from his table towards the front of the room, called out, prompting Manfred to shoot him a death glare and Neil Marshall, who was sitting next to him, to start snickering.
{Manfred}
I am number one!
Bah!
I am number one!
Bah!
I am number one!
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
With my perfect suit,
My stylish hair,
And my cravat white,
I am quite the sight,
Right?
“If y’all are a sight, von Karma, I’d be better off starin’ into a Texas sun at high noon till I couldn’t see no more sights!” Jake retorted in a fit of laughter, earning a high-five from his brother.
“I swear, one more outburst like that from either of you and I will do to the both of you what your beloved Texas did to proper grammar!” Manfred roared with a snap of his fingers.
{Manfred}
Now listen to me,
Pesky thorns,
I was prosecuting since before you were born!
Bah!
Bah-bah-perfect-bah-bah-bah-bah,
Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah-bah!
I am number one!
Bah!
Bah-bah-perfect-bah-bah-bah-bah,
Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah-bah!
I am number one!
Bah-bah-perfect-bah-bah-bah-bah,
Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah-bah!
I am number one!
Bah!
Bah-bah-perfect-bah-bah-bah-bah,
Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah-bah!
I am number one!
I am number one!
I am number one!
Bah!
Bah!
“Neil Marshall!” Blaise proclaimed with a sneer on his face, causing Manfred to reel back out of shock as the room filled with the hoots and hollers of the Marshall brothers.
“WHAT!?” Manfred roared, his eyes the size of saucers as a few beads of cold sweat started to drip down his brow.
“You heard me, von Karma. This year’s King of Prosecutors is Neil Marshall! So, get up here, Cowboy, and claim your prize!” Blaise jovially stated with a wave of his hand, an order that Neil didn’t hesitate to take up as he ran up on stage and ripped the trophy out of Manfred’s hands.
“Good night above…” Neil sighed with a grin and a slight shake of his head as he took Blaise’s place at the podium to give a speech. “With all the talented and experienced prosecutors that I have the privilege to work with every day, I never would have thought that I’d ever win an award like this in my lifetime, let alone my third year on the job. So, needless to say, I am deeply touched that y’all think so highly of me – even after I’ve lost more than one trial to that coffee-loving defense attorney at the start of my career.”
The cowboy prosecutor paused to chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck.
“…Woo boy, if y’all think that losing a case you spent hours preparing for to some bluffing attorney makes ya feel lower than a snake’s belly, then you obviously haven’t had a mug of coffee thrown at your head…”
Neil had to pause for a brief moment to let the laughter that was erupting from the audience come to a stop as his face became slightly morose.
“Real shame what happened to Armando – hombre had one hell of an arm and a fightin’ spirit to match. But at least he died doing what he loved: drinking coffee and being suave while doing so. Though I only wish I had the chance to thank him. Sure, he gave me hell, but with that hell, he pushed me to become the prosecutor that I am today. Though while on that subject, I’d also like to thank my brother, Jake, for always being there for me ever since we were kids playing Cowboys and Indians – even though we got into more than one fight about who got to be the cowboy – Detectives Gant and Skye, for inspiring all of us with their devotion to justice, and finally, Prosecutor Manfred von Karma…”
Even though he was embarrassed beyond belief, Manfred couldn’t help but smirk a little upon being recognized. Sure, it wasn’t as glamorous as being named King of Prosecutors once again, but it was nice to know that he was helping to inspire the younger generation… even if their fashion sense and lack of class were much to be desired.
“Whenever he stops by the Prosecutor’s Office, I feel compelled to give it everything I’ve got – partially ’cause the guy’s win record’s cleaner than a washcloth on washday and I wanna look semi-competent by comparison, but mostly ’cause if I don’t, then he’s gonna be on me like stank on a crap wagon, lecturing me from dawn ’till dusk about how I’m not ‘working hard enough’ instead of leaving me alone so that I can actually get my work done. Plus, whenever my nerves start getting shakier than a jitterbug doing the jitterbug on a jumping bean before a trial, I take a deep breath and tell myself, ‘Neil, if von Karma can go into court dressed like Dracula’s granddaddy’s corpse for 40 years without a care in the world and win every time, then what do you have to be worried about?'” Neil jokingly asked, prompting the audience to once again start laughing.
However, unlike last time, where the audience was allowed to calm down at their own pace, this time, their laughter was abruptly ended by the loud thud of the end of Manfred’s cane slamming against the hardwood surface of the stage.
“Cease your insolent laughter!” Manfred roared with a snap of his fingers as he glared daggers into the audience. “I do not have to stand here and take this undeserved slander! Miles, we’re leaving!”
Heeding his mentor’s word, Edgeworth got up from his seat and made a beeline dash for the room’s exit while Manfred followed suit – only instead of running, the veteran prosecutor maintained what little dignity he had left by loudly stomping to the door with his fists and teeth clenched. However, before he could reach the exit, he was stopped by someone calling out to him.
“Hey, von Karma!” Blaise shouted, prompting the ‘perfect’ prosecutor to slowly turn his head back so he could glower at his superior’s sneering face. “Y’know, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll always be number two to me!”
“Bah!” Manfred huffed as he thrust open the door leading out of the room and made an effort to slam it behind him as loudly as possible as he exited.
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