14 Hell Hath No Fury

“When things go wrong, just do your best to make it through the day and you’ll be okay in a short time.”
~Auliq Ice~

Phoenix Wright
The Borscht Bowl Club
May 12, 2019, 9:00 PM

The inside of the tavern rivaled that of Siberia; as if trying to make patrons truly experience the authentic Russian experience – or simply drink enough to get warmed up! If you weren’t touching the sauce, however, and had nothing stronger in your system than grape juice, the ability to remain even tepid was an admirable feat.

In such an environment where the owners were too damn cheap to pay for adequate heating, managing to profusely sweat-drop was downright dumbfounding.

Nevertheless, the equivalent of a human Wet-Nap was exactly the state that could best be used to describe Phoenix as he sat in frozen horror on the piano bench. As he helplessly stared back at the server across the room, it was impossible to miss the expression on the comely blonde’s visage. It was one of undisguised revulsion; as if he was some festering maggot that she’d discovered in her food.

Up until nearly a month ago, those long-lashed blue eyes had always sparkled with cheerfulness at the sight of him. Now they were regarding him with so much scorn and disdain that he fervently wished he could somehow wave a magic wand and promptly apparate to someplace, anyplace else!

How the pianist wished to just instantaneously vanish; to be anywhere but there, inside that polar vortex of a bar, feeling like a bug pinned to the wall by the hostile gaze of a woman who had never once treated him with anything but friendly affection, even adoration, or gazed at him without undisguised admiration … all up until that fateful night.

He’d never dreamed he’d see her again, especially not now, so soon after the fact. Nonetheless, there she was – in living color.

Without further preamble, she slammed her tray down onto the bar next to Tyler, ignoring the bartender’s blatant protests and pleas not to make a scene, and strode over in Phoenix’s direction.

He remained glued in a seated position, helplessly staring like a deer caught in headlights.

Tiffany’s ample cleavage jiggled as she marched purposefully towards him with utmost stunning legerity in her towering stilettos until she, at last, accosted him at the piano, which, unfortunately, he wasn’t quite quick enough to bolt from.

Phoenix hastily stood, cursing himself for the knocking state of his knees, and wondered if they would be of any use if he needed to hightail it from what was sure to be the mother of all ugly confrontations.

Tiffany stood a hair’s breadth away from him, so close he could smell the magnolia scent of her perfume and fully make out the snarl on her tanned face. He had no idea how she wasn’t freezing to death in her tiny black tuxedo shorts and sleeveless cropped ruffled white top, with mere black fishnets on her long, toned legs as sole covering from the chill of the room.

“Cease that piddlin’ around immediately, mister! I done got a bone to pick with you!” The server’s normally syrupy Alabama drawl was now a sharp-sounding twang. She leaned so close her heaving breasts were almost brushing against him while she stabbed a scarlet talon against his chest.

“M-me?” He stammered, bending himself so far backward in an attempt to avoid being out of reach from the claws of death, he may as well have been in a limbo contest.

“Is there any other no-good pie-yay-no  player in this here house who dills my pickle?” She demanded, finally retracting her finger and placing both hands on her shapely, booty-shorted hips.

“P –Pardon me?” The pianist straightened up and eyed her cagily, while inching a step backward as subtly as he could, hopefully without the risk of sending his former admirer running off on another tangent.

“Irritates me, bub! Normally, I got no axe to grind about the live entertainment at this here watering hole.  But I can tell ya, I know good music from doggone bad!”

Tiffany was snarling now as she clenched her fists.

“All’s I know is the other musician didn’t’ make me madder than a wet hen!  Sho ’nuff that Mr. Willie couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but still, I was as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine while he played, even if I didn’t know half the grand-pappy tunes he tried to perform! Yours just hurts my poor dang ears, and I dern’ tootin reckon them ears of the others in this bar too if they weren’t already walking on a slant! But speaking as a sober female with apt hearing, I do declare that mister man, your ivory tickling skills are scarcer than a hen’s teeth!”

“I – I’m sorry?” His voice was weak as he shrunk back further under her scathing glare.

Man, I can’t believe how steamed she is about my playing! Talk about your tough crowd!

“Listen here, buster. And listen good!” Tiffany leaned close to him so they were almost once again nose to nose, and her voice was steely as she ground out the next words through gritted teeth. “There ain’t no way Ima be schlepping’ drinks for these lecherous boozy lunkards, freezing my heinie off, while being forced to smile … and have to deal with your stinkin’ noise pollution to boot, ya hear?”

Loud and clear! But ouch! Whatever happened to those famed Southern manners and hospitality, anyway?! Hey, wait a minute…

Somehow, throughout the verbal onslaught, the castigated musician was able to decipher some relevant – and coherent! – clues amidst the fuming Southern rabble.

Mister. Bub. Buster… Jumping Jehoshaphat’s!

Phoenix’s eyes widened as two realizations hit him. One, Tiffany didn’t know who he was. And two, Lord have mercy, if she was this riled up about his lousy playing while being momentarily unaware of his true identity, then God help him when she finally did find out!

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it!

Right now, he was too busy reveling in the relief this discovery had brought him.

The Southern belle wasn’t ripping a strip off him because she was steamed that the man who had jilted her and made an ass of himself less than a month ago had suddenly materialized at her bar, crappily tickling the ivories! She was just plain agitated that this mysterious, unrecognizable hobo had shown up at her workplace … and happened to be playing craptastic piano, which she refused to be forced to endure!

His shoulders sagged slightly at this unexpected reprieve, and he finally released the bated breath from his lungs. The untargeted rage he could deal with! He’d been a defense attorney after all. He was used to people being mad at situations that often had naught to do directly with him but still took it out on him nonetheless. This situation didn’t involve getting the hell out of dodge. It simply required a little bit of his old bluffing … and humoring. And if all else failed … playing dumb.

Play dumb? No problem! Heck, I could manage the team!

“Forgive me for offending your pretty ears, Miss. That was never my intention.”  Phoenix chuckled with embarrassment and treated the waitress to his most charming smile. “This was strictly a case of premiere night jitters, is all. The owners asked me to play something original as they got sick of my Disney songs, and I’m afraid I didn’t have anything prepared.”

His diversion tactic of frank honesty about his shortcomings appeared to be at least somewhat successful.

“Well, I beg your pardon, kind sir.” Tiffany’s scowl vanished as her cheeks turned pink. “Nobody here told me they done hired a new pianist. I reckoned ya were just a drunken clown who had a hankerin’ to go hog wild on our keyboard there … I swear I’d never give down the country and go off half-cocked on someone they’d hired to play here, even if I did think they stunk!”

“No need to apologize,” he reassured her graciously. “I guess I did kind of suck, didn’t I? I assure you I will have a more pleasing selection tomorrow night. In the meantime, I do hope you can find it in your kind heart to bear with the new guy suffering from first-night stage fright?”

“I aim to eagerly mend fences with anyone the bawses, Mr. Boris and Ms. Natasha, deem fit for their pub … they know best, so who am I to be too big for one’s britches!” Tiffany took a step back so she was no longer up in his face. The look of hostility was long gone from her eyes and was now replaced with friendly curiosity. “Would this be yer first night in these here stompin’ grounds? Yer tellin’ me that yer gonna be our new regular feller?”

“Indeed I am…”

Assuming Boris and Natasha haven’t decided to fire my ass for my music causing their servers to be in such an uproar!

 “…I’ll be working the 6:00 PM to 2:00 AM shift from Thursday to Sunday. How about you?”

“Well, that takes the cake! Yer taking over Willie’s old shift slot then? They got me workin’ the 9:00 PM to 3:00 AM night shift here those same days. I reckon this makes us workmates then.” Tiffany flashed her familiar dazzling white smile. “Ain’t that the berries! Even if I ain’t agreeable to your music, I reckon I oughta learn to co-exist with ya though, huh?”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He grinned at her; the relief evident on his face although his body was still rigid with the tension that still hadn’t fully abated.

She let out a tinkly laugh, which under most circumstances he would have found somewhat charming, but he was too busy silently praying her newfound congeniality wasn’t temporary.

“You can relax now, fella! You look as nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs! I’m not gonna bite ya! That is…” Her voice trailed off and her friendly smile was replaced by the oh-so-suggestive one he was all too familiar with. “Unless you want me to, of course…”

Good grief! Not this again! The hobo groaned inwardly. Was this femme fatale honestly so hard-up for his alleged fine behind that she somehow found him alluring even now, in all his scruffy, bum-gear-wearing glory?!

Or was she simply the ultimate Man-Eater that pop culture songs were made about?

She’ll only come out at night
The lean and hungry type
Nothing is new
I’ve seen her here before
Watching and waiting
Ooh, she’s sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door
So many have paid to see what you think you’re getting for free
The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar
Money’s the matter
If you’re in it for love, you ain’t gonna get too far

“I, ah…” Phoenix coughed nervously. “Didn’t take you for a vampire at all. You’re much too tanned for that, heh heh.”

(Oh-oh, here she comes)
Watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
She’s a maneater
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
Watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
She’s a maneater

“They bite to draw blood,” she said coyly, tilting her head to the side and eyeing him coquettishly. “I’m more of a nibbler myself you know…”

I wouldn’t if I were you
I know what she can do
She’s deadly, man
She could really rip your world apart
Mind over matter
Ooh, the beauty is there but a beast is in the heart…

“Well gee, will you look at the time!” Phoenix made a big show of looking at his watch as he tried to mentally brush aside the all-too-applicable lyrics that’d sprung to his mind. “It’s 9:15 and Mr. Badenov and Ms. Slotsky will surely be looking for me, as they told me to only play for another half hour. So, I’m afraid I must be off now, Tiffany…”

The name had slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he’d said. And, unfortunately for him, in a bar so noisy you could have landed a helicopter in it without anyone noticing it, the unfamiliar use of the moniker was somehow heard as clear as a bell.

The bar wench started at the sudden use of her name, which she most definitely had not shared with him. The flirtatious expression slowly fell off her face as her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Jesus H. Christ and bloody freakin hell! It’s over. The fat lady hath sung!

“How do you know my name?” Her sharp, searching gaze ran over him from head to toe, as though looking for clues to his identity. “Who are you? Do I know you from somewhere around yonder?”

The former defense attorney cursed his stupidity. He’d pulled the lamest tongue slip up in the book, the same one that had made countless witnesses guiltily hang themselves on the stand in numerous trials, and resulted in victories for him when he’d been an attorney. Now he’d gone and fallen victim to the same careless error, without having even been verbally bated, goaded, or plied with alcohol as a scapegoat for his idiocy!

Nope, he’d done goofed. Plain and simple.

“Answer me, dagnabbit!” Tiffany demanded her hands back on her hips. Sparks shot out of her eyes. “How in Sam Hill do you know who I am?”

The pianist gulped and uneasily scratched the back of his neck as he frantically scanned his alarmed mind for a plausible excuse. The unconscious habit resulted in the back of his beanie shifting higher than usual on his head. A few of his spikes became exposed and wildly sprung out, as if in relief from no longer being restrained, like snakes springing from a gag can of peanut brittle.

Tiffany’s eyes widened in recognition now, and as her mouth opened, the look on her face was downright murderous.

“Phoenix Wright! You low-down, conniving, God-forsaken wank biscuit!”

Hall & Oats – Maneater