Okay, that pointless rehash of the photo and Angel’s many personal issues was what I needed to do in gameplay terms to continue. It seems kind of silly to have to jump through all these hoops since Angel has not shown any reluctance at all toward discussing SL-9. But I guess now is the time for some official exposition. Angel cues up a melancholy synthesizer track on her super secret lunchbox iPod to set the mood for this info dump. Two years ago was the biggest case of Angel’s career, and from the sounds of it, the biggest case in the entire universe. “The police and the prosecutors were desperate for decisive evidence,” she continues, which is giving me unpleasant flashbacks to the setup for the DL-6 case. Despite this lack of hard evidence, the case was solved and the perp — who is unnamed for now because, really, he’s just some guy — was executed. This doesn’t compute for Phoenix, so Angel is all, “Forged evidence, dipshit.” Ema practically shits herself over the thought that some dude was put to death as a result of fake evidence, but Angel seems to indicate that they had the right culprit for once in this series. Now that Ema’s faith in the system has been shaken even further, Phoenix decides it’s even more important that his relationship with Edgeworth remain secret. Little does he know that Ema could walk in on Edgeworth blowing him, and she’d just go, “Oh no! Mr. Wright must have been bitten by a snake! How nice of Mr. Edgeworth to suck out the poison!”
As in all the other cases so far, a black and white still shot accompanies the expositing. Here we have Jake Marshall, Angel Starr, and Bruce Niceguy staring intently at what appears to be a map of city streets. All of them are dressed exactly the same as in the present day, of course, except that Angel’s hat had no Japanese foodstuffs attached to it two years ago. A fourth person stands with his back to the camera, but his cowboy hat indicates that he suffered from the same wardrobe psychosis as Marshall. Also, he is another possible model for the gay cowboy painting. Angel continues her tale of woe and corruption. “The best part came several months after the trial. Every detective involved with the case was dealt with. Some were demoted to patrolmen, others found themselves out of a job…” Now, this isn’t quite accurate, since it makes it sound like several detectives were involved, when really, only Angel and one other person were “dealt with” in a negative manner. That other person, Angel tells them, just happens to be the one person we already met who used to be a detective and is now a patrolman and who also appeared in the still shot — Wild West cosplayer Jake Marshall. So this isn’t really the shocking revelation that Angel was trying to set up here, although Phoenix’s blue font indicates he was not expecting this. Of course he wasn’t.
Phoenix wants to find out more about Marshall’s past, mostly because in spite of his disordered personality, he’s the least terrible of the new characters in this case. Also, maybe Angel knows whether or not he posed naked for any other cowboy paintings, but Phoenix is too shy to ask about this right now. Angel describes Marshall as “particularly determined” to investigate the shit out of this case, but was demoted in spite of this. Even so, neither of these two misfits has given up on SL-9 because of the shady backdoor shit. “There was another side to that case, a hidden side. That’s what we’re after now. And no one up in their fancy offices can stop us,” Angel insists. Okay, whenever Angel goes off on prosecutors, I know she must be referring to Lana as well as Edgeworth, but thanks to her descriptive terms like “prim and proper” and “fancy offices,” I picture a whole contingent of prissy men like Edgeworth, sitting around on fuchsia velvet couches and sipping expensive tea, while discussing hard evidence and which male defense attorneys are the dreamiest. This is probably Edgeworth’s actual dream for the Prosecutors’ office.
I’d say roughly zero.
Anyway, Ema realizes that Angel is playing the part of a lunch lady not just for annoying me and Sam, but also for investigating this den of dandies. “There is only one reason I come to sell lunches in this accursed office. I come here to meet old friends…boyfriends that can help me investigate,” she claims. Heterosexual boyfriends? At the prosecutors’ office? Her story is spinning out of control. There are so many weird layers of denial and delusion at work here, and even Phoenix seems to be catching on that something isn’t adding up, but Angel distracts him by appealing to his love of investigation. Unaware that Phoenix is fucking her nemesis, the fanciest evil King of Prosecutors, Angel decides to bring him on board as an unofficial investigator. Well, he can’t be worse than these two assclowns. “Then you should take this,” Angel decides, thrusting forth the most appealing lunch he’s seen thus far, a big slab of meat with some phallic vegetables on the side. But this “Salisbury Steak Lunch” isn’t for Phoenix. “I know a certain guy who might help you if you tempt him with this treat…” Angel vaguely hints. A man who loves meat? Wow, that narrows it down. We can probably rule out Edgeworth, since Salisbury steak seems a bit too low class for him — I’m sure he prefers a more prime cut. Like Phoenix’s penis.
The description in the court record provides the identity of this mystery man, preventing Phoenix from interviewing every single male member of the police force: Jake Marshall is the intended recipient of the hot meat. I don’t know why Angel couldn’t just ask him to speak to Phoenix about SL-9, but I’m not going to argue with Phoenix delivering this juicy meal to a rugged cowboy wannabe. Sweet, innocent Ema, upon witnessing this exchange, can only stammer an awkward question as to whether or not Marshall is one of Angel’s many existing boyfriends. She wants to know because apparently he used to be super nice and not so much of a butthole to both Lana and Ema, and maybe Angel has discovered the reason for his change of heart at some point when they were making out very heterosexually. Angel assures Ema that she and Marshall are platonic colleagues, and their relationship is strictly professional, which we can all respond to with an emphatic “DURRRRRRRRRRR.” The subject of Marshall’s buttholish transformation is dropped for the time being.
I guess a mouthful of wood is also an enticing prospect to Officer Marshall.
To take his mind off the distressing task of dealing with Angel — although she only shoved two boxes in his face during this scene, a marked improvement — Phoenix wants to head upstairs to Edgeworth’s plush fuchsia office, but the stupid cockblocking game won’t let him do that right now. In terms of available locations, the detention center is thankfully a dead end right now — there will be plenty of time later for Phoenix to interview the “culprit” in the evidence room murder and there isn’t enough alcohol in my system at the moment. The criminal affairs department is similarly abandoned, at least in terms of colorful characters willing to interact with Phoenix. The two dudes that are part of the static backdrop are probably up to their usual silly shenanigans, though I have way too much other ground to cover to waste time on them now. I am not in any hurry to examine the evidence room either, but Ema insists on going there after consulting a pamphlet to find its location. That’s strange — is the police department a tourist attraction? Now I’m picturing a Jurassic Park-style ride through the native habitat of all these wacky, incompetent characters.
Before I travel too far down that particular rabbit hole, which is way more interesting than the current plot, I steer Phoenix and Ema toward the newly-available “Security Guard Office” which is not to be confused with the one in the parking garage where Angel’s imaginary boyfriend works. This one monitors the evidence room, and has all the equipment you would expect for such a task — a wall of ’90s era monitors and recording devices, a card reader next to a metal door with a teal light above it, and a front desk for receiving visitors. However, just as Edgeworth’s office was immediately identifiable as his thanks to his signature fuchsia and expensive accoutrements, this security office has also been decorated according to the personality of the individual in charge. Let’s see if you can guess the identity of this mystery person.
A wooden sign on the front of the desk has the word “Texas” burned into its surface. On top of the desk sits a bottle of whiskey (with a full glass next to it) and a small cactus. Beyond the desk, a lasso has been placed at the base of the security door. More bottles of whiskey and perhaps tequila line the top of the security monitors, where a cattle skull has also been attached to the wall. A makeshift clothesline has three leather-fringed garments hanging on it, including a poncho and (possibly assless) chaps. Near the front of the area, on the side of the desk, a wooden gate and several larger cacti block visitors from the area behind the desk. The tallest cactus, which resembles a saguaro only much smaller, has a spotted cowhide hat perched on one of its arms. I know I have presented all of you with an unsolvable riddle here, since the décor is so subtle, but give it your best shot.
Commenting on decor again. Never change, Phoenix.
Well, we won’t be solving that “mystery” for now, since the guard is not at his post. Ema claims she has an inkling who is on duty here, but given her idiotic commentary while examining the various items in the room — she thinks a poncho is called a pouchy, which is way more depressing than cute — consider me skeptical. And Phoenix doesn’t even pretend to have a clue. Of course. Ema quickly discovers that the evidence room door doesn’t open, and Phoenix acts all superior for supposedly knowing this in advance. He blue-fonts that they need to get “someone’s” permission first, because it would have been too easy for that to happen during their first trip here. The only other discussion worth noting is related to the bank of monitors. There are at least ten, but as far as I can tell, this guard station only monitors the one evidence room, and as we’ll find out in a bit, it’s just not big enough to warrant ten different views. Plus, there will be even more plot holes surrounding the camera system in here. To my dismay, Ema remarks, “There’s a light blinking below the monitor. It says “Recording”! I bet we could use this computer to check on who went in and out of here!” SHIT.
I may have lost my will to live, but at least I can decrease my suffering by making Phoenix and Ema leave this sad room for now. As soon as they head back to the police department entrance, the green location text indicates that I have triggered a new scene. Indeed, as soon as Phoenix notes the “frantic energy” happening all around them on this still backdrop, Gumshoe pops up in Phoenix’s face, screaming about a steak lunch. The detective apparently mistook him for Angel Starr, which is the worst thing that has ever happened to Phoenix. “Now’s no time for chit-chat, pal. I’m a busy man!” Gumshoe yells, as if Phoenix’s entire purpose for showing up here was to make small talk with him. “What I really need is a steak lunch from Lunchland.” I find it unfortunate that Gumshoe feels his best prospect for devouring meat involves Angel Starr. Larry needs to take his wiener stand on the road — I’m sure he would find his goods quite popular among this crowd. When Ema breaks the bad news to Gumshoe that the succulent meat is intended for another man, he looks depressed for a split second and then perks back up. “Now’s no time for despair! We’ve caught our criminal! Now we just need evidence!” he yells obliviously. I will never get tired of pointing out the bass-ackwards nature of this fucking legal system.
Did he find out about Phoenix and Edgeworth?
Phoenix starts to ask about the criminal in question, but Gumshoe, sensing that this may be one of Phoenix’s famous memory lapses, asks him, “You heard about the stabbing in the Police Department evidence room, pal?” Of course Phoenix can’t just respond, “Yes I did” — he has to flash back to the part of the trial where he figured out that Niceguy was (allegedly) the victim in the evidence room and Gant announced the apprehension of a suspect. This would be a lot more helpful as a reminder if Phoenix had not already discussed both these events several times since I started this recap. Phoenix wants to know the name of the suspect, but I’m sure the writers felt that wouldn’t be a shocking enough reveal right now, so Gumshoe acts like he’s about to die if he doesn’t shove some meat down his throat and then runs off. He yells over his shoulder that Phoenix should visit the detention center because this unnamed suspect who is surely a new character we’ve never met before should be out of questioning now. Ema covers her mouth in shock as she notes that Gumshoe ran toward the evidence room. Does Angel make a stop at the evidence room during the lunch rush? I don’t know what is going on with Gumshoe.
Just so we’re all on the same page with how much stupid filler is in here, Phoenix made a pointless visit to the detention center, followed by pointless visits to the criminal affairs department, the security guard office, and the police station entrance (twice!), just to be steered back to the God damn detention center. This is bullshit. And to make matters worse, as I foreshadowed earlier, things go downhill for Phoenix and me during this second visit. Ema, unsurprisingly, doesn’t notice our sour mood and announces with a huge smile that she feels better now that they caught the actual perp who is not her sister. Yeah, they’ve solved the case, time to collect Phoenix’s paycheck so he can go claim his victory spoils (by which I mean Edgeworth’s ass).
Gumshoe is a swallower.
Phoenix skeptically blue-fonts about the matter, when he is horrifically interrupted by a flashing screen and screeching feedback sound. In case anyone is smart enough to have the sound off during this point, the writers have helpfully inserted a text box that reads “*WHEEEEEEEEEEEEN*” Thanks for that. The responsible party, yet another ??? to keep us in suspense, shrieks from offscreen, “Wh-what was that!? Sir! That’s what I’m saying! Me, a perpetrator? I-I-I’d say I-I-I was the perpetrated against, sir! That’s what I’d say!” What a great start to this interview. The game designers are really going out of their way to hide this person’s identity, so when Mike Meekins and his dripping snot appear on screen behind the window, we’re all supposed to go, “NO WAAAAAAAAAAAY.” But really, no one gives a shit. Who cares about this fucking guy, seriously?
Ema recognizes him, which doesn’t stop the game from flashing back insultingly to Meekins’s appearance in Edgeworth’s office the previous day. This fucker has had one scene so far, and we already a flashback to that during the trial. To make matters worse, Ema mistakes Meekins first for a guard at the detention center, and then thinks he’s there to “deliver a report.” After way too many text boxes of wacky misunderstandings, Phoenix finally goes, “You… Officer Meekins… You didn’t… did you?” Holy shit, people. HE IS THE FUCKING SUSPECT YOU FUCKING MORONS. Meekins ups the annoying ante by whipping out a motherfucking megaphone, complete with another feedback sound, and screaming into it about being the suspect while looking severely constipated. This is awful.
After Ema gets done crapping herself in shock, and Phoenix gets done blue-fonting about what a stunning surprise this is, we can get on with finding out what really happened in the evidence room. Man, I kill me. I want to get through this interview as quickly and painlessly as possible, so I’m going to do myself a favor and skip past all of Meekins’s shitty dialogue. His “quirk” is to yell “sir” after every single sentence clause, and that’s not counting his general self-pitying and mentally handicapped nature. And let’s not forget the megaphone, because the game designers certainly haven’t. He’s like a much more irritating Larry Butz, minus the chin beard and penis that keeps finding its way into Phoenix and Edgeworth.