First, Maya has to ask Lotta about her background, like anyone gives a shit. Turns out she’s “a research student at Country U., right in the heart of the heartland.” I didn’t know they had colleges in the South. Do they have classes like NASCAR 101 or Roadkill BBQ for Dummies? Lotta reiterates that she’s been at Gourd Lake for three days photographing meat showers meteor showers. Only this time, she acts shifty and suspicious, just to beat us over the head with the Nailbat of She’s Totally Lying. Don’t expect Phoenix to figure this out for a while. He’s too busy fantasizing about him and Edgeworth driving out to the lake in Edgeworth’s car, romantically watching the falling stars together, then boning the living daylights out of each other in the backseat. Or maybe that’s me fantasizing about that. No, I’m pretty sure it’s Phoenix.
The first of Lotta’s lies.
Once again, with Phoenix’s head in the fluffy pink clouds, Maya has to ask the obvious questions, like the stuff about the camera. Several screens of text tell us what Phoenix and Maya already determined — the camera is automatic, its shutter triggered by explosive noises like me shooting myself in the head. No matter how much I wish it were otherwise, the camera gets added to the Court Record. I repeat: damn it.
Everyone who is reading this should know where this is going. It’s so blatantly obvious, even Phoenix has it figured out. Let me repeat that: Phoenix’s brain has stopped thinking about Edgeworth’s nude body long enough to realize that the camera may have been triggered by the gunshot from the night before. As much as I never want to see another photograph in my entire life, dogs know that the camera did indeed capture a photo of the crime. Now, we don’t find this out quite yet. Lotta says she first needs to “have a look-see at [her] film.” Again, if she were shooting digital, she could just flip through the photos on the back of the camera and save Phoenix a lot of cab fare (and me a lot of stylus tapping). But no, she has to run to the Walmart 1-hour photo and get that shit developed, including the 24 boring-ass lake photos Maya just took. Well, okay, it’s possible some of those photos are of the cops making out in the woods across the way — we know they weren’t actually investigating the crime scene.
Excited over her possible role as a murder witness — like a few automatic photos make her an actual witness — Lotta hops in her SUV to drive to Walmart or whatever. It’s not like they help me out by animating this. Phoenix and Maya agree that they’ve exhausted all investigative possibilities on the current screen. Although the inevitability of a NEW PHOTO is still depressing the crap out of me, I’m just glad I don’t have to transcribe any more accents for the time being.
Phoenix decides he’d better show up for his date with Detective Gumshoe at the station. I believe this is our first glimpse of the Criminal Affairs Department, a location that Phoenix will visit many more times in his career. Conveniently, Phoenix and Maya arrive just as Gumshoe’s meeting finishes, and he is thrilled that Phoenix didn’t stand him up. The meeting itself did not yield favorable results, as indicated by Gumshoe’s slumped shoulders and hangdog expression. “(I get the feeling we’re in for some bad news…)” Phoenix DURRs. What, did Edgeworth confess? To intimate relations with some random guy in the boathouse?
Now I have the chance to look around a bit. Unfortunately, like the scenery at Gourd Lake, this place is nothing to write home about. I would expect some fuchsia accents, or at least a naked man statue or two, but it’s just a room with desks, old CRT monitors, and fluorescent lights. I imagine there are probably some floppy drives lying about in drawers, not that Phoenix wants to think about anything floppy. Two guys appear to be part of the static backdrop. The first sits at a desk near the left side of the screen, talking to himself. Phoenix thinks he’s doing “image training for arrests” whatever that means. With statements like “All right, hands against the wall, all o’ you,” I think it’s more likely he’s practicing for a bondage orgy.
The other guy sits way in the back at a centrally-located desk. This balding sprite is none other than the chief of detectives. Keeping with the “everyone sucks at their jobs” motif, he appears to be surfing the web — out loud — for news about Gourdy. Phoenix seems offended that the chief isn’t doing actual work, like what the fuck does he expect? This is the police department where the lead detective has the intellect of a brain dead sea slug, and he’s the smart one of the bunch. Phoenix examines a poster on the wall behind the chief. “A poster of a female police officer… Wait, no. That’s the latest ‘Babes in Uniform’ calendar. My bad.” This is clearly something which holds little interest for Phoenix. Also, I call bullshit on any men in this game owning such a calendar. Unless it’s a man dressed as a woman — a possibility I will not rule out.
A stuffed toy that looks like a light blue Snorlax is perched on a nearby windowsill. This, according to the chief, is the Blue Badger, which he designed and presumably crafted himself. He’s dead set on making it the mascot of the Criminal Affairs Department someday. It all seems very innocuous, but this little stuffed fucker is going to cause me a hell of a lot of trouble in the future. This won’t happen during this case, so for now, just consider it some very diabolical foreshadowing.
Phoenix didn’t come here for his health, so he gets down to business with Gumshoe. There’s no new information on the victim since Phoenix last talked to him, and Edgeworth is still his usual tight-lipped self. As for the meeting, that’s the second arbitrary topic Gumshoe isn’t allowed to talk about. That doesn’t stop him from launching into a monologue on his favorite topic. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Sure, Mr. Edgeworth’s human like you or me. Still…I get the feeling that if he’d done something wrong, he wouldn’t go hiding it. That’s just the kind of guy he is. Why can’t anyone else see that?” So it’s not that Gumshoe thinks Edgeworth isn’t capable of murder, just that he’s not capable of lying about it? That’s not the most ringing endorsement. Also, I don’t think Gumshoe really considers Edgeworth a mere human — more like a fine fuchsia demigod.
The bad — though not unexpected — news is that everyone except Gumshoe still thinks Edgeworth is guilty and the trial is set for tomorrow. “Umm… hey, in the end you did tell us about the meeting!” Phoenix says, way too proud of himself. I mean, was any of that information really confidential? It’s basically the same shit they already knew. Still, Gumshoe is all worried that he’ll get in trouble for spilling the beans. He has bigger worries than that, though, and there’s only one man he can turn to. “And…do me a favor!” he begs Phoenix. “Stand by Mr. Edgeworth! He needs help, and you’re the ones to help him! I’m sure he’s got some reason why he won’t talk to us.” Okay, this is just making me sad. Poor Gumshoe is depressingly oblivious — he really thinks that Edgeworth will be so grateful that the detective has found him the best defense attorney ever and will reward him with hugs and sexual favors.
Or behind him.
Then things get even more awkward. Maya asks, point blank, why Detective Gumshoe trusts Mr. Edgeworth. And Maya has just stolen the Captain Oblivious award away from the detective. So Gumshoe doesn’t come right out and say he’s in love with the prosecutor and his sweet ass, but he might as well. He tries to call it a “strong working relationship,” but we all know what that means. He also refers to their profound, penetrating trust of each other, and how Edgeworth only uses “extreme methods” to get a guilty verdict because, in Gumshoe’s exact words, “He trusts us to get the right man!” Gumshoe explains that he works “extra hard” so that Edgeworth’s trust won’t be misplaced. From what we’ve seen so far, he does this by arresting the wrong culprit and withholding pertinent evidence from Edgeworth. I am so mortified for Gumshoe right now — he’s just so convinced that he’s earned Edgeworth’s trust and respect through his amazing detective work. Keep in mind he’s also unknowingly sharing this with the boyfriend of the man he loves. This is like recapping a soap opera.
Phoenix is tired of listening to Gumshoe tongue-bathe his boyfriend so he asks whether the autopsy report is ready yet. Not only is it ready, but Gumshoe made a special copy just for Phoenix. I know this is an insanely dumb question when talking about this game, but is this even legal? Phoenix isn’t even the defense attorney in this case — he’s just some guy who fucks the defendant. He shouldn’t have access to any of this. I mean, I don’t know why I’m pointing out problems with this now, when Gumshoe’s been slipping him information since the beginning of the case. Maybe it’s because he’s blatantly doing this in the police station, right in front of the chief of detectives no less. Not that the chief would notice or anything — he’s probably looking for gay porn on the internet by now. Forget I even said anything.
The medical examiner must be as worthless as the rest of these assholes, as the autopsy report only says that the victim died of a single gunshot to the heart sometime on the 24th or 25th. Shit, I could probably have figured that out. A headshot of the victim is included with the report, but weirdly enough, it’s not a postmortem photo. If they don’t know who this guy is, how did they manage to get a picture of him when he was still alive? Did Edgeworth have it on him after downloading it from a gay meetup site on the internet? Phoenix takes a closer look at the photo. The victim appears to be middle-aged, with his black hair worn in an 80s mullet. I have a difficult time believing that Miles Edgeworth would waste his time with a man this unattractive when he could have pretty much any guy he wants. Even straight men would do him, I’m sure. This makes Phoenix feel a little better — even if Edgeworth killed this dude, at least he probably wasn’t having sex with him.
Maya has a strange reaction to the photo — she thinks she knows this guy from somewhere. If she were Shion, the reason would be obvious. Of course Maya can’t seem to remember who he is at the moment, so we’ll just have to wait until the game decides to reveal his identity.
Armed with pretty much all the available information on the case he’s not defending, Phoenix and Maya head back to Gourd Lake to check in with Lotta. I’m sure Phoenix loves spending fifteen minutes at each location and then the rest of the time commuting. It’s such an efficient use of his time. As we all knew would happen, Lotta’s camera did indeed fire twice during the night. Thrilled to her very core, Lotta shoves one of the photos in Phoenix’s face. It’s the same foggy dickboat shot from the beginning of the game, but one of the shadowy dildos is pointing a tiny pistol at the other. Although Lotta is ecstatic over capturing the instant of the murder, both Phoenix and Maya try to burst her bubble by pointing out that you can’t see who’s who. “Yeah, well there was enough fog out there last night t’ choke the chicken strangle a bullfrog,” Lotta recalls. In other words, the camera didn’t capture anything helpful, and Lotta couldn’t have seen anything. If there were any true justice in the world, everyone would realize that all this evidence was worthless and we could all move on with our lives without wasting time on it in court. You see where I’m going with this.
“But, y’know…Seeing these photos reminded me of something,” Lotta says, as a sick sensation forms in the pit of my stomach. “I saw the murder happen. I’m a witness!” Oh, motherfucking bullshit. To underscore just how ridiculous a claim this is, Tardmaster Phoenix thinks to himself that it’s fishy. But he knows better than to say anything, because he knows as well as I do that there’s no point arguing. Just to add insult to injury, Phoenix gets to non-choose whether or not to encourage Lotta to tell the cops about what she “saw.” No matter which choice he makes, Lotta decides it’s her duty to lie to the police tell the police the very truthful information she has on the case. Phoenix tries to find out what her made-up story is going to be, but she brushes him off. “I’m a witness, and that means I’m on the side of justice, and that means the cops!” Yes, the very same cops who invariably manage to arrest the wrong person every time — the very same cops who didn’t even bother to find and question Lotta in the first place. I was going to make a comment about how Phoenix needs to stop doing the prosecution’s job, but then I remembered that Edgeworth pretty much did Phoenix’s job for him in the last case, so I guess it’s fair. Also, I think you know what I mean by “job.”
OMG, CAN I?!
Lotta practically jizzes herself over the possibility that she’ll be able to testify in a real court of law (such as it is), then shoves the POINTLESS PHOTO at Phoenix before disappearing from the screen. I think we’re supposed to assume that she made a beeline for the police station, but her SUV is still there. I don’t know. Maya’s not too happy about this turn of events, but Phoenix has a zen blue-font moment. “(Well, if she saw something, there’s not much we can do about it. The question is: what exactly did she see…? I guess we’ll find out in the trial tomorrow.)” Is he referring to watching the trial from the peanut gallery? Because he’s still not Edgeworth’s defense attorney. I’m not sure if he’s in denial, or if he’s just really confident that he can…um…convince Edgeworth to hire him.
Phoenix should take Lotta’s MOTHERFUCKING PHOTO and chuck it in the campfire. Instead he stuffs it into his evidence sack and heads back to the beach. This time, they have company. Just as Phoenix notices that the cops have all gone home after a pointless and incompetent search, the gayest Santa in the universe pops up right in his face. Maya screams, as if she’s in any danger from this guy. Saint Dick here has the standard white beard, and the suit and hat have the same basic shape as the traditional outfit, but that’s where any similarities end. The suit itself is, as one would expect, bright fuchsia with pink trim. A drawstring bow with furry pink balls on the ends holds the furry pink collar closed. There are also larger furry pink balls running down the center of the suit in place of buttons. To top off this astoundingly homosexual ensemble, behind the white beard is a gaping red blowjob mouth. Clearly this jolly bowlful of jelly is here for some Christmastime roleplay with anonymous men in the park.