I know that when a lawyer on TV accuses someone of murder on the stand, someone objects and the lawyer gets in trouble or something. I don’t know how accurate that is, but in this particular courtroom, the judge simply responds, “Intriguing. Please continue, Mr. Wright.” Hey, cool. While Phoenix goes into more detail about the actual murder, the game helps him out by showing some of the still (and sparsely animated shots) from the beginning. Only…we don’t really find out anything extra. The clock activated when Frank hit ButzEx with it. And the time stuck with him. “That voice was burned into your mind.” I’m sure it was, if, like I hypothesized, it sounded like a sexy dude. Oh, and because he just murdered someone. Whatever.
Now Payne shrieks his objection, polite enough to let Phoenix finish his story. When he calls Phoenix’s theory “baseless conjecture,” Phoenix responds by telling Payne to look at the witness. The camera obliges. And I kind of wish it hadn’t. Sure, Frank looks about two seconds away from flipping his lid, but he’s also pumping his hand in a disturbingly masturbatory motion. I could have died happily without ever seeing that.
The judge calmly asks Frank if he is, indeed, a killer. Although Frank could say, “Nope! Not a killer! Not me!” and the judge would totally buy it, Frank chooses instead to completely flip out, snatching his nasty toupee off his head and hurling it directly into Phoenix’s face. You might think this is one of those times where I’m inventing stuff just for the humor value. I assure you, this is exactly what happens. And it’s not the last time Phoenix is assaulted by some sort of flying object in the courtroom — being a lawyer is dangerous business. I know this is true to life because I saw this “Caught on Tape!!!” special on CourtTV that told me so. I don’t recall any flying toupees, but there was one video showing the prosecutor and defense attorney coming to blows. Which brings us back to this game, although I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Anyway, after Frank whips his hairpiece at Phoenix, he continues his meltdown on the stand. Practically ripping his shirt off, he screams, “Shutupshutupshutup! I hate you!” This whole incident kind of hurts his credibility when he adds that Butz is guilty of murder and should die a horrible fiery death.
Loading ...Or at least it would hurt his credibility in a sane, sensible courtroom. So Frank is still safe. Payne tries to recover from his star witness’s mental breakdown by asking Phoenix for proof. Well, that’s fair enough, but is it too much to ask for some sort of reaction from the judge in regards to said breakdown? Apparently so, since he’s just all, “Yeah! Proof!” So now Phoenix has to provide proof that Frank heard the clock when he whacked ButzEx over the head with it. “(The whole case is riding on this! I’d better think it through carefully!)” he stresses. It’s not the only thing he thinks carefully about riding, if you follow me.
Phoenix still believes that Frank heard the clock. “A fact which is clear if you simply…” Once again I get three choices: “Examine the clock’s batteries,” “Ask the neighbors,” and “Try sounding the clock.” While I’m sure Phoenix would know all about neighbors and noise complaints, the correct choice is the third one. Yes, not only did I get a real choice, but it was a three-way choice. Which…really isn’t all that surprising for this game, either, if you know what I’m saying.
Not trusting the judge to properly operate the clock — or perhaps Phoenix just wants to run his hands over a nude male sculpture — Phoenix offers to demonstrate. Over a black screen, the clock announces, “I think it’s 8:25.” Get it? Because he’s “The Thinker” so he THINKS it’s 8:25? See that clever thing they did there? Obviously the judge doesn’t see it. He completely ruins the thrilling Orchestra Hit Disco Porn soundtrack by marveling at the odd nature of the time-telling. It’s up to Phoenix — Phoenix, the lawyer who knows nothing about evidence or trials and can’t even comprehend how to snag a half-decent boyfriend — to explain the “joke.” I just realized that even though I’ve been thinking of Phoenix as a moron all this time, if you look at him in comparison to all the other members of the legal system that we’ve met so far, he’s a God damn prodigy. After all, if he can put two and two together in regards to the talking Thinker clock, he’s already light years ahead of Judge “A turnip wearing a black robe could do my job more effectively”, Winston “Yes, my case is SO AIRTIGHT — never mind that there’s no actual evidence that the defendant committed the crime, just the story of this EXTREMELY SUSPICIOUS ‘EYEWITNESS'” Payne, and Mia “I’m supposedly a gifted defense attorney, but I don’t actually bother to read up on my associates’ cases before they go to trial” Fey. Maybe I’m just being too hard on Phoenix — yes, I said “hard on.” Maybe, without looking at all the evidence, I rushed to judgment regarding his intelligence.
Nah, he’s still a moron.
Moving on. The judge once again needs Phoenix to enlighten him — this time on the subject of the, uh, time. In other words, just what does sounding the clock prove, and why does it warrant the Orchestra Hit Porno track? Now Phoenix could directly point out that the clock is three hours off — which is why Frank thought it was 1PM instead of 4PM when he murdered ButzEx. But that wouldn’t be dramatic enough for this courtroom — or the porno music. So Phoenix asks Prosecutor Payne to tell the current time — this way, Payne can get all flustered and sweaty as Phoenix chips away at his case. Not that Phoenix really enjoys making Payne all flustered and sweaty…not in that way, at least. No, please don’t show me your fanfiction where you try to prove otherwise. I’m in a very fragile state right now.
Once Phoenix gets around to making the same point I just made in regards to the time, the camera switches back to Frank. Needless to say, he still hasn’t calmed down. With his shirt partially open, his right hand clutching his tie, his chest massively heaving, and his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish giving a blowjob, it immediately becomes apparent just what he’s doing with his left hand, which is currently out of sight behind the podium. Or maybe he’s just upset that Phoenix is onto him. Not like that — I don’t think he’d object too much if Phoenix was actually on top of him. Sadly enough, that’s still not the grossest pairing that I’ve seen for this series.
Same time as always in this game: Buttsex O’Clock!
But wait! Despite Phoenix’s confidence and Frank’s obvious guilt, this shit still isn’t over. Naturally, the ridiculously drawn out nature of the trials is another series trademark, along with the fuchsia suits and the homosexual supertext. Frank’s all, “You’re forgetting something!” This immediately causes Phoenix to revert to the Oh Shit face, frantically worrying about this latest development. As if Frank, the guy who couldn’t make up a convincing, consistent story if his life depended on it — which it does — is suddenly going to do a complete 180 and whip out a video of Butz killing ButzEx, a full fingerprint analysis of the murder weapon, showing Butz’s fingerprints in ButzEx’s blood, and a taped murder confession by Butz. You know it’s just going to be some other lameass lie that can be refuted in about five seconds using the evidence at hand. God Phoenix, have some backbone, man! You’re never going to find yourself a worthwhile boyfriend if you don’t gain some confidence!
Frank’s big reveal? “While it may seem like that clock IS running three hours slow… It proves nothing! How do you know it was running three hours slow on the day of the murder!?” He insists that without that bit of proof, Phoenix’s case is in the shitter. So suddenly this guy’s a legal expert? Well, I can believe he’s smarter than the “actual” legal professionals in this case. And Phoenix agrees with Frank’s assertion — not that that means much.
Still, let’s look at this logically. While it’s true that Phoenix hasn’t really proved that the clock was running three hours slow at the time, Frank himself was the one who said that he got the 1PM time from the clock when it was actually 4PM. Granted, he’s not a reliable witness. Okay, then, let’s say that the clock was set to the correct time on the day of the murder. That would mean that Frank just made up a random lie about hearing the 1PM time from the clock, since we’ve already determined it didn’t come from anywhere else. And it just so happens that this random three-hours-early time that he pulled out of his ass only HURTS his credibility. Now if the murder weapon clock were to say the correct time in court, wouldn’t that make Frank look less suspicious? Sure, he would have still told a random lie about the 1PM time he heard, but it would still make it look like he couldn’t have heard the murder weapon at the exact instant of the murder. So what he’s alleging here is that the only people to have come into contact with the murder weapon since the murder — which would be cops and prosecutors — set the clock three hours early, which would only hurt their case. Yes, I’m arguing that the law enforcement officials in this game have something resembling competence, and that’s just not logical. It’s still more logical than Frank’s dipshitted assertion.
Phoenix, still freaking out in full-on sweat mode, internally monologues, “Dammit! I was so close!” I imagine he has that thought quite often in relation to Butz’s bumbling bedroom antics. With his Serious Face on, the judge proclaims, “It seems you lack the critical evidence to support your claim.” We’ve already learned that reasonable doubt has no place in this courtroom system, but even in terms of that, the fact that the judge seems completely unconcerned with the Jalhalla-sized holes in the prosecution’s case makes me want to tear my hair out. While drinking alcohol. And that’s not easy to do at the same time.
His Honor ends the cross-examination on that unfortunate note, and instead of thanking his lucky fucking stars that he just got away with murder and running out of the courtroom faster than Twink with a Big Fucking Spider on his tail, Frank Sahwit throws an indignant bitchfest. “I come all the way down here to testify, and look what happens! They treat me like a criminal! A criminal!” This is probably supposed to be humorous in its irony or something, but it just makes me want to stuff Frank’s toupee down his throat to shut him up. Well, I don’t actually want to touch the thing, so I’d probably pay someone else to do it.
Well, they are slippery, but that’s probably just from all the lube.
Rather than fulfill this violent fantasy of mine, Phoenix broods over his failure to protect his butt buddy from the death penalty. While slamming his hands on his table in frustration. This is more out of annoyance at his own personal failure than the fact that he won’t get to have conjugal visits with Butz, because we’ve already established that Phoenix is pretty much sick of the guy.
As we fade to black on Phoenix’s pessimistic thoughts, the Orchestra Hit Disco Porno track gets another workout, this time accompanying Mia’s latest dialogue. Well, her giant, very visible boobs would not be out of place in a porno, after all. Not a porno that any of the male cast would watch, though. “Not so fast, Mr. Sahwit!” she shouts in her powerful, deep voice. I’m guessing here — she doesn’t actually have a voice actor in this game. I just think it would be funny if she sounded manlier than the guys, like that would be hard. Hee…”hard.”
A dramatic flash of each of the major courtroom participants brings us back to a very determined looking Mia. “Mia! I mean, Chief!” Phoenix squeaks, not wanting to get too familiar with her and give her the wrong idea. “Listen up, Wright! Don’t throw this one away, not like this! Think!” Now you’re just asking the impossible, Mia. Pathetically, Phoenix isn’t even willing to try. God, maybe he and Butz do deserve each other — they’re both whiny dramatic quitters. Mia agrees that Phoenix can’t prove what time the clock was set to on the day of the murder, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t still win! Try thinking out of the box!” Trust me, I’m sure “the box” never enters Phoenix’s mind. “Don’t waste time doubting the facts. Assume the clock was three hours slow and… Think through it! Ask yourself, “Why was the clock three hours slow”?”
Okay, that’s enough of that. What this bizarre mix of hand-holding and extremely vague hints is trying to say is that Phoenix still has one piece of evidence he hasn’t yet used — the passport. After Mia finally stops talking, Phoenix gets a Yes/No choice as to whether or not he’s figured it out yet. Just to be an ass, I choose “No,” and naturally, this makes Mia prompt Phoenix to find some evidence in the Court Record. Apparently, this decisive piece of evidence will leave Frank without “a foot to stand on.” Between “thinking out of the box” (thinking outside the box) and “a foot to stand on” (a leg to stand on), I’m not sure if the translators are screwing up these English expressions or if it’s a “special” character trait of Mia’s.
Because slowness seems to be a common character trait in this game?
Well, no matter which option I choose, eventually I have no choice but to present one of the whopping five pieces of evidence. I’ve already blown my wad and told you it was the passport. And here’s why: apparently, when the victim went to Paris, she lugged along this bulky, heavy clock. And since Paris has a nine-hour time difference from L.A. (I have not checked this fact, but I’ll be lazy and assume it’s true), the clock appears to be three hours slow. Never mind that Phoenix, in addition to still having no proof that the clock was set to the wrong time before the murder, also has no proof that ButzEx brought the fucking clock with her to Paris. He’s still really confident about this assertion: “Proof enough for you, Mr. Sahwit? Or should I say… Mr. Did It!” Hoo boy. I don’t think Phoenix — or anyone else for that matter — really wants Frank to be “Mr. Did It.”
I’m not saying that Phoenix isn’t on the right track about what took place — obviously he is. I just don’t understand why, when Frank could still continue to deny all of these accusations, he chooses this point to foam at the mouth (literally, and it’s gross) and fall over in a guilt-induced coma. Even if Phoenix did have decisive evidence that the damn clock was set wrong at the exact moment of the murder (which he still doesn’t), couldn’t Frank just continue to lie and say he heard the thing from OUTSIDE the apartment when ButzEx was murdered? Mind you, I’m not advocating that this trial go on any longer than it already has. My typing fingers are sore, and I’m already in danger of alcohol poisoning. I’m just doing my job as a recapper, and that job is to nitpick fictional video games. By “confessing” to the murder, Frank Sahwit has done the only thing that will ensure that he, not Larry, is eventually found guilty of the crime. Because as we will learn, in this court system, the only way for the defendant to be found not guilty is for someone else to confess.