Larry is initially upset that Phoenix is giving him the third degree over this, but he finally relents. “Right…right,” he starts to explain, spastically changing facial expressions every other sentence. “Actually, umm… See, the compressor I always use was on the fritz. So I tried using the tank to inflate it, just once. And, er, it didn’t go so well.” Phoenix blue-fonts with satisfaction, “As I suspected!” and can choose to consider this mystery solved, or to continue discussing it. Pressing further will give him the chance to lord his superior intellect over Larry some more, and that gives him an erection, so obviously that’s what he does. He asks Larry to specify how it did not go well, and Larry mutters, “C-c’mon… Look, it’s embarrassing so I don’t really want to talk about it…” Maya chimes in and shamelessly eggs him on until he caves. “Whatever,” Larry finally says. “It’s like what I said, the compressor was busted. So I took the tank and tried to fill the Samurai up with that.” Which I’m sure the Samurai enjoyed. “And then…BLAAAAM!” Larry’s dramatic reenactment of the explosion provides a segue into an incredibly erotic black-and-white flashback shot of the air tank blasting off into the sky, flags and Steel Samurai still attached, while Larry stares, dumbstruck and aroused, from the ground. “The valve busted open and made this incredible noise!” he goes on, astounded that the air tank–or as I will now be calling it, the Evil Magistrate’s penis–could so explosively blow its load like that. “And that tank there took off like a rocket. And it took my poor deflated Steel Samurai with it!”

This would not have been an entry in ‘Path to the Glory Hole.’

Phoenix can now ask Larry about the “flying air tank.” Butz tells them this happened around the 20th of December, the week before the murder. “Now, as far as I could see,” he continues, “the tank went flying out into the lake. So I went out every night in a boat looking for it. I mean, Kiyance gave me that Steel Samurai after all!” Larry is now the angry, stodgy dad who goes out to Lovers’ Lane with a flashlight to stop his child from going all the way with that big-dicked meathead in the letter jacket. And sure enough, when Larry says he found it “the night before last,” we get another black-and-white shot of Larry sitting in a rowboat, shining a flashlight on the deflated, now-impure Steel Samurai. But Phoenix isn’t thinking about the subtext of this whole weird scenario. For once, he’s thinking about his case. “The night before last…was the night of the murder!” And it’s not like Butz is ignorant of this fact–he, too, realizes what happened the night he recovered his rebellious teenage balloon. “But you see, I went home before midnight,” he clarifies. Maya says it’s too bad Larry wasn’t a witness, but Phoenix decides to surprise me even further with his clarity of thought. “It’s not all bad,” he tells Maya. “We’ve solved one mystery, at least.” And he wonders to himself, “Maybe we should go tell her…” Time to ruin Lotta’s faith in Jesus, guys!

As soon as they show up, Lotta asks, “Well, Mister Lawyer? I’ve got the info y’all need! Y’all got the scoop on Gourdy for me yet?” Seeing Lotta’s expectant, glassy stare just makes Phoenix even more eager to break the news to her. He’s never wanted to crush someone’s spirits more. He chooses the option “Gourdy doesn’t exist,” but of course Lotta doesn’t believe him because it would make all her Christmas decorations wrong. Unfortunately for her Gourdy nativity scene, though, Phoenix has proof. “No lawyer worth his badge would make a claim without the proof to back it up,” he tells her smugly, like he’s never had to pull a wild accusation out of his ass in court. But for once, he’s not making things up as he goes along, and shows Lotta the Evil Magistrate’s penis.

Maya and Lotta both stare at its phallic splendor, wide-eyed, as Phoenix says, “This…is Gourdy.” Lotta goes, “Umm…scuze me?” just to fuck with my spell checker. Maya is for once behind Phoenix in figuring out this mystery, and also doesn’t get it. I’ll just let Phoenix explain in his own words, since I’m so proud of him for not needing Mia or Edgeworth to hold his hand through the entire story. “There’s a stand near here…a [wiener] stand,” he explains to Lotta. An image of Larry’s disastrously decorated small business appears as he goes on, “There’s a giant inflatable samurai doll there. About a week ago, an idiot, who happens to be a friend of mine, tried to fill it.” The flashback once again provides a good gander at the Evil Magistrate’s penis penetrating the Steel Samurai. “He used this air tank, and when the valve blew, the tank flew into the lake. Apparently, it made a pretty loud ‘bang’ when it flew…” I bet it did. Lotta now sees where the story is headed, but lets Phoenix continue: “The tank, along with the still deflated Samurai fell into the lake.” A close-up flashback still of this shows the penetrated Steel Samurai hitting the lake, looking for all the world like a monster from a Studio Ghibli film. “At the same time…” Phoenix says, “A couple was taking a photograph of the lake. This photo!” Which brings the story to a close where it began: a shitty photo of a boring couple with a blurry penis in the background.

If people can spot Jesus in their pancakes, I’m sure they can spot him here.

“Wait…” Maya says, “So…you’re saying that Gourdy… Is really the Steel Samurai!?” It’s a good thing there wasn’t a better photo of this that showed the Steel Samurai’s face, or poor Will Powers would probably be captive in the zoo’s Gourdy exhibit right now. Lotta, for her part, sighs a bit and then tells Phoenix with the Emo Theme of Shattered Faith in the background, “Well, that’s a fine way to ruin a gal’s dreams.” It sure is! It gave Phoenix his first boner since before he found out about Edgeworth’s arrest. “I’m sorry, Lotta,” he says, not remotely sorry. She promises to fulfill her end of the bargain and provide him the information he needs, assuming she doesn’t die of a broken heart first.

Finally, this opens up a new conversational option with Lotta, “Case information.” She heaves another big, melodramatic sigh and says, “A promise is a promise, I guess… I overheard the cops around here saying something about the witness tomorrow… They said he’s the caretaker of the boat rental place up the path here.” Maya says she thought it was deserted, despite all the reasonably well maintained boats sitting right outside. “Just an old guy, living by himself,” Lotta replies. “Y’all should go check it out.” Nah, I think they went through all the trouble of disproving the existence of Lotta’s aquatic Lord and Savior just to call it an early night. But Lotta has one more item for them: “Yeah…the night of the murder. My camera clicked twice, you know.” This means, as Maya deduces, that Lotta has another photo, but this one is an empty photo of the lake. But it might be helpful–meaning that it absolutely will be helpful–so Phoenix adds it to the court record. And with that, Lotta packs up her dildo microphone and her shitty camping gear and goes back to the Ozarks.

“Poor Lotta…” Maya says for some reason. Yeah, she might have to get a job that doesn’t involve the Weekly World News. And in this economy, with no discernible skills! She’s the real victim here, if you think about it. Phoenix replies, “It’s all Larry’s fault. The legend still lives on, I guess.” Maya has not heard this legend, so Phoenix repeats it for her: “Yeah, the legend of Larry, familiar to all who know him for any length of time…’When something smells, it’s usually the Butz.'” Maya’s response? “Someone should whip that Butz into shape.” I think several someones have probably tried, Maya.

Outside the boat rental shop, of course Phoenix and Maya have to establish that this is the place Lotta meant, like there’s some other discreet sex boat rental business on Gourd Lake. They still don’t see anyone around, but barge into the building anyway. Inside the “caretaker’s shack,” a single-room house, they find a tiny, shitty television sitting in one corner, with a conspicuous green safe perched on top of it; labeled sketches of various fish species adorning the wall; and a low dining table surrounded by a checkered blanket, so we remember this takes place in Japan Los Angeles. Ah, the rich family dining traditions of Los Angeles! But the obvious oddity in the room is a red parrot, sitting on a perch and shitting on some newspapers.

Before Phoenix can even process this sad little room, a rather strange man pops into view. For starters, let’s just get out of the way that he’s wearing a pale pink sweater and establish that this means he’s the murderer. Now, that does not mean, like most pink-wearers in this game, that he is dapper or snappily dressed. He’s also pulled a brown beanie over his unkempt gray hair and tied a dingy white ascot around his neck. The pink sweater tops another sweater, this one beige and shapeless. If he weren’t in jail right now, I’d think Redd White went on the lam, took up as a hobo, was thrown off the train near Gourd Lake, and just gave up on life.

If his wardrobe choices and place of residence weren’t enough of a clue, the man’s sprite wobbles from left to right, as if he’s either drunk or mentally checked out. It could be the former, but we are to conclude it’s the latter, as the man, helpfully labeled “Old Man,” shouts at Maya, “Meg! That you!?” Maya goes “Eeek!” again, as Grandpa adds, sounding like Abe Simpson in my head, “Hey, is that Keith with you!? Where have you two been! I’ve been worried sick.” Maya is not used to dealing with doddering old geezers, and she doesn’t know enough about the Great War to hold her own in conversation with them, so she asks Phoenix to handle this guy. But as we know, Phoenix can barely have a coherent conversation with anyone of any age, so he replies, “Uh, I think I’ll leave this one up to you, Maya.” And just like that, they have embraced roleplaying the bickering children who don’t want to deal with their senile father, which he apparently thinks they are.

“Meg!” Grandpa wheezes again. Maya responds, “Y-yes!?” like she’s scared to death of the Alzheimer’s Killer here. “Finally made up your mind, have you?” he asks. When Maya goes, “M-my mind?” he clarifies, “You’ll run the pasta shop when I’m gone?” All Maya can utter to this is “P-pasta?” because she’s suddenly turned into Shion. Grandpa isn’t actually listening, though. “Glad to hear it, glad to hear it!” he babbles. “You make your old man proud. When you kids left the house, I didn’t know what to think. How’m I supposed to keep this place running, an old man like me?”

As if this could get any weirder, Grandpa turns and calls out, “Polly! The kids are home!” Now, not only is “Polly” the most stereotypical parrot name in existence, but he’s looking right at the bird. Nonetheless, when the parrot replies, “Hello! Hello! *squawk*” Maya wigs out like she’s seen a ghost that doesn’t have giant breasts. Phoenix, who has seen several such birds in Edgeworth’s private aviary, where they do it a lot, calmly tells her it’s “A parrot…the one on that perch.”

But Grandpa is jealous of the attention his bird-wife is getting, so he shouts at Phoenix, “Keith!” Phoenix goes, “Y-yes!?” only for Grandpa to get back on the subject of his pasta shop. “I leave the ‘Wet Noodle’ in your capable hands, sonny,” he tells Phoenix. Oh, that is the best. Obviously Grandpa couldn’t use his first choice, the Limp Noodle, since that’s never a problem in this universe.

Hee hee.

Once Maya and Phoenix have discussed the name a little more and I’ve stopped giggling, Grandpa “talks” some more with Polly. Grandpa expresses his relief that “Keith” is going to take the Wet Noodle firmly in hand, Polly says “Hello! Hello!” again, and then Grandpa falls asleep, complete with anime-style snot bubbles.

Now that Grandpa is napping upright, Keith and Meg have a chance to examine the room in more detail. Obviously, the safe is locked, and the fish sketches aren’t even of local fish, as they’re all saltwater species–I’m guessing they’re supposed to be the delicious varieties of fresh fish in his noodle bowls. When Phoenix examines the counter behind Polly, he observes, “Looks like a kitchen unit. It’s pretty clean. Funny, he doesn’t look like the type who’d keep things tidy like that.” Grandpa does, indeed, look like a hoarder. But Maya reminds him, “He’s running a pasta shop, here!” And nobody wants a dirty wet noodle.

Maya looks with envy at the electric blanket beneath the table, and tells Phoenix they should steal that idea for Wright and Co. Law Office. “We can sit down with our clients, snug and warm, and drink hot cocoa!” she says. That sounds awesome enough, but Phoenix asks, “And what, talk about murders?” Maya calls him a “party pooper” for this remark, which I am trying hard not to take literally. But I think that sounds pretty great. If you have to sit around and discuss details of a murder anyway, why not have a warm blanket and a hot beverage? Plus, that setup would be great for private handjobs. If Phoenix can find a fuchsia-and-blue model of that blanket, he should jump on it.

Finally, they take a closer look at Polly. Maya tries to talk to the bird, but Polly completely ignores her, which of course makes Maya cry. But Grandpa chooses this moment to wake up, in one of the game’s grossest animations: one of his snot bubbles bursts, scaring him awake with a wide-eyed blowjob mouth. Ugh. Cannot unsee. “What, you forgot, Meg?” he asks. “You gotta call her name first!” Maya repeats back “Her name?” just to piss me off, and Grandpa demonstrates, “Polly! How ya been!?” At that, Polly says “Hello! Hello!” again and squawks. Maya’s takeaway? “Neat! So the parrot’s name is ‘Polly’!” Jesus Christ, Maya.

Polly is added to the court record, which virtually guarantees she’s going to say something incriminating about her geriatric housemate. But Maya ignores this possibility, lamenting that she can only say one word. Grandpa keeps digging his own grave, though. “Har har har!” he guffaws at stupid Maya. “Old Polly can say lots of things! You just need to know the secret words!” He is not, of course, forthcoming with those secret words, leaving us to figure it out later, or speculate.

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Even though Grandpa has nodded off again, Phoenix tries talking to him anyway, first about the Wet Noodle. Once I sit through his too-long, disgusting wake-up animation, he says, “To think, the ‘Wet Noodle,’ will live on after I’m gone!” He’s staring at the ceiling as he wobbles now, as if planning his own funeral in his head. “My father started it you know. So that makes you two the third generation!” So are Meg and Keith siblings, or married? If they even exist? Phoenix hopes it’s the former. He goes on to Maya, “Tomorrow, we’ll start the secrets of dough tossin’!” Phoenix thinks he’s getting to skip this lesson because of his experience with salad tossin’, but Grandpa adds, “You too, Keith. You’ll be the best pasta wrangler the west has ever seen!” Pasta wrangler? Wow. This just keeps getting better. I think Phoenix, Edgeworth, and Larry should start up the Wet Noodle for real after all this is over: Gourd Lake’s first combination Italian eatery and bath house.