Finally, Ema gushes over Edgeworth’s sofa again. No, not like that! Stop, Ema! “I bet he pours [sic] over his case files here until the wee hours of the morning…” Ema sighs. “Then he takes off his jacket, rolls up his sleeves… And goes to sleep using his arms as a pillow!” Phoenix is aghast at this extremely personal fantasy of Ema’s, but she keeps going, “I bet in the morning he has sofa hair, and little creases in his cheek from the seams! He’s so cool!” Jesus Christ. I think Oldbag just found the vice-president of the Miles Edgeworth Fan Club.
And while Ema is cleaning up the mess she just made on the sofa before Edgeworth turns around, Phoenix takes another look at the trophy sitting on it. Edgeworth grimaces and mutters, “*mumbles* of Prosecutors…” Phoenix is all, “What’s that, sweetheart? Can you try not mumbling this time?” and Edgeworth snaps at him, “It’s the ‘King of Prosecutors’ trophy,” adding in the world’s least convincing tone, “It’s a great honor. They send that shield to the best prosecutor each year. What! So?” All Phoenix and Ema get out of this? The “K” stands for “King.” Good job, team.
Edgeworth probably wants to throw the fucking trophy out the window, but instead it’s added to the court record so Phoenix can taunt him with it some more. He’s going to pay for this tonight. When Phoenix waggles the trophy in his face and asks if this means Edgeworth was “the best of the best this year,” Edgeworth tells him to stop fucking smirking. “I lost a day of work to receive that travesty,” he moans. This statement requires a level above First World Problems. Woe is Miles! He had a paid day off work to receive an award! Edgeworth does tell them the ceremony was at “the Police Department,” and then has to waste time explaining to Phoenix that this is next door to the police station. “Where Detective Gumshoe works? Yeah,” Phoenix replies. Who knew?! Anyway, Edgeworth is apparently upset at losing this day of work because it was a busy one here at his office, but we’ll get to that in a minute. Phoenix also takes a moment to examine this trophy and finds a metal plate on the bottom with a list of past winners. There is another name listed here that Ema should notice, given later developments, but she glosses over it entirely and just notes that some dude named Manfred von Karma is listed a whole bunch. Phoenix is like, “Uh yeah, he must be foreign,” and changes the subject.
A quick aside: is Edgeworth the only prosecutor in the city or what? Because, while we know his record used to be spotless, he hasn’t exactly had a banner year, between losing two cases to Phoenix and being a defendant in a murder trial. I know the only person who had a worse year was von Karma, so it’s not like he should have won it, but there had to be someone else who fared better in court.
Stop, boys! Ema’s still in the room!
Okay, enough fucking around. I could probably fill an entire recap with my ruminations on Edgeworth’s office, but it’s time to move on. Sigh. The silver lining is that Phoenix gets to talk to Edgeworth about a body being stuffed into the trunk of his car. “Go ahead, say it, Wright,” Edgeworth snaps. “You think I did it, don’t you? After you went through all that trouble to help me last year, no less.” These two clearly have not worked out all their issues yet, though their penises are sore from the trying. Ema insists that they don’t think Edgeworth was the culprit, and unfortunately adds, “I mean, it was my sister who stabbed him…” Oof. Edgeworth just now realizes that she is Lana’s sister, despite that bit about meeting him earlier. “Ah, now I remember,” Edgeworth lies. “You’ve…really grown.” I’m pretty sure that line has launched roughly ten thousand delusional, inappropriate Edgeworth/Ema fanfics.
Edgeworth helps me steer the conversation toward something less disturbing: the fact that his car trunk is a murder scene. This is also a euphemism–Phoenix was rough on him last night. “More surprising still…” Edgeworth goes on, “Now I’m forced to prove my superior’s guilt.” Phoenix is all shocked about this revelation, and I was about to make fun of him for that, but I realized he’s right. How in the world is it appropriate for Edgeworth to be prosecuting this case? It gets even worse in this regard later, but the fact that his car was involved alone should be enough for Edgeworth to recuse himself. He explains, “Lana Skye is the Chief Prosecutor…the top prosecutor in the district. She can’t prosecute herself, so I’ll be the prosecutor at the trial tomorrow.” This is lending more credence to my “Edgeworth is the only prosecutor in the city” theory.
On the subject of his own troubles, Edgeworth drama queens that he’s lucky to have a job at all. “Rumors. You’ve heard the rumors about me, haven’t you?” he asks. Those aren’t rumors to Phoenix! Or to anyone with eyeballs. But of course he means, per Phoenix’s daydream about Edgeworth and his phallic pointing finger, “Forging evidence, arranging false testimony, illegal searches, you name it…” Edgeworth says he was found innocent of murder once, but that haters are already lining up on his left to throw this current murder in his face, too. I mean, we know he didn’t do it, but it’s not that difficult to imagine why other people think he did. Edgeworth even thinks he was given the King of Prosecutors trophy as a joke, which admittedly makes more sense than him getting it for real.
Regarding the defendant, Edgeworth says they first worked together two years ago on some case I’m sure we’ll never hear about again. Ema also remembers this and looks all sad, but again: probably some throwaway reference. Forget about it. Edgeworth drama queens some more, “Since then, I always felt that she was looking out for me… It appears I was mistaken.” Yeah, I think we can all agree Lana fucked him over pretty good here. Just one more reason he shouldn’t even be involved. But Ema doesn’t get this and asks, “Why? I mean, I know she’s not the warmest person… But I’m sure she felt some responsibility for you!” Edgeworth is like, “Body! In my fucking car! HELLO!” But it gets better: “Not only that… She stabbed him with my knife.” And next to Edgeworth’s head floats the fuchsia-handled knife we saw Lana wielding in the video. WHAAAAAAAAT?! THAT’S EDGEWORTH’S?!?!?!?!
That face says there’s been some stabbing in his trunk before.
Edgeworth clarifies that the fuchsia-handled knife was in a toolbox in his trunk, and I’m picturing a rhinestone-encrusted affair with nothing but fuchsia tools inside, including a fuchsia socket wrench that has been used extensively, but never once to tighten a bolt. “Um, Edgeworth?” Phoenix asks. “Are you sure you didn’t do it?” Ouch, Nick. He doesn’t need that shit from you. Edgeworth just glowers at him, and Phoenix blue-fonts, “C’mon, can’t he take a joke?” Oh, please do NOT be that boyfriend. If Edgeworth wants a man like that he’ll put on his Kiyance wig and go crawling back to Larry.
Finally, Phoenix asks about what was going on the day of the crime. “Yesterday was the annual cleaning day at the Prosecutor’s Office,” Edgeworth says. “Working with the Police Department, we sort and file all evidence for solved cases. We call it ‘evidence transferal.'” I really want to put another “r” in there, but the dictionary is backing it up as an alternate spelling, so I can just stow it. “Oh, and another thing…” he adds. “A ceremony was held at the Police Department. There’s an annual review and awards for outstanding police officers and prosecutors.” This is, of course, when he received the possibly passive-aggressively intended King of Prosecutors trophy. But Edgeworth indicates, as do others later, that both these events happen on the same day each year. Why would they do it like this? Edgeworth can’t be the only one who thinks he’s too busy for awards if there’s all this cataloguing going on. This is like the one-day version of “That was a really busy year.” But more on this subplot later, because it reaches incredible new depths of stupidity, even for this game.
Edgeworth says he got back from the awards gala and parked his car at 5:12. Why so red, and specific? Ema thinks it’s because Edgeworth, like her, is some kind of detail-oriented savant, but it’s actually because Edgeworth has “evidence,” namely his parking stub. As Edgeworth gently but firmly inserts it into Phoenix’s court record, Phoenix notes that the murder took place a whole three minutes after he parked.
Right when Phoenix is about to “joke” one more time that it sounds like Edgeworth did it, they are rudely interrupted by someone looking for Edgeworth. This someone bursts into the office, making it immediately clear that he is WACKY character Exhibit C. He’s clearly a police patrolman, given his uniform, but he is just as clearly a complete fuckup goon, given his bandaged hand, overeager salute, and beady eyes that are windows to a not-very-bright soul. His eyebrows are also a hot mess, but Phoenix doesn’t have any tweezers in his court record. Once Edgeworth identifies himself, the officer shouts at a rapid clip, “I’m here, sir, at the request of the Chief, sir! I’ve got your report, sir!” Edgeworth asks, as sinister music booms out from the fuchsia speakers in the office’s surround sound system, “Report? What? Did you find new evidence in the case against Chief Prosecutor Skye!?” But that actually is not it. The officer fingers his Jay Leno-sized chin (it is actually the size of Jay Leno) and answers, “Er, Skye, sir? No, sir! No name of that kind, sir! Not in this report, sir!” Ugh. Edgeworth gives the officer the exact same look I have right now. Phoenix blue-fonts, “I think I just heard Edgeworth’s lid blow.” But then–oh my God–Ema says out loud, “Mr. Edgeworth’s lid isn’t on very tight, is it?”
Okay, let’s take a quick break from Edgeworth bludgeoning this young police officer to death with a fuchsia candlestick. EMA CAN READ PHOENIX’S INNER THOUGHTS. WHAT THE FUCK. Or have Phoenix’s blue-font moments been out loud this whole time? There’s no way. No fucking way. But unless Ema is Jean Grey or a long-lost Fey sister…what the hell is going on here?
This is me right now.
Back to Edgeworth, who is reading this young man the riot act for bringing him some surely irrelevant report when he specifically requested a moratorium on anything unrelated to the Skye case. The officer, making a truly horrible constipated face, begs Edgeworth to have mercy on him because he’s just following orders. Edgeworth demands his name. “M-M-Meekins, sir! Officer Meekins!” he replies. Because he’s meek! So funny! “Right. Officer Meekins?” Edgeworth sneers. “Take your report and leave. And good luck with that raise next month.” Meekins whimpers, complete with a giant tear welled in his eye and a dribble of snot in his nose. WACKY. Meekins disappears as Phoenix reflects, maybe out loud and maybe not, “Poor guy. Looks like he was absent on the day they gave out brains and good luck.” Phoenix must have seen him when he was out of the line, too.
Edgeworth pulls him out of his reverie, and I hope to God for Phoenix’s sake that Edgeworth can’t read his mind, too. He tells Phoenix to get the fuck out of his office, but adds, “The victim was a detective from the same department as that patrolman just now. Go down to the Police Department. You can ask more there.” Phoenix doesn’t react at all to this actual new piece of information, instead thinking to himself that Edgeworth has at least stopped breathing fire. I am now freaking out every time he is a huffy bitch in blue font. With Edgeworth now stonewalling him, he and Ema decide to follow his advice and check out the police department.
That is no time to talk.
When they arrive at the police department, Ema and Phoenix spend a minute trading clumsy, soon-to-be-relevant exposition about how far away it is from the prosecutors’ office. Phoenix also says it’s his first time here, even though the police station housing criminal affairs is literally next door. He needs to stop making such a big deal of all his “firsts.” It’s making him look like an idiot. Thankfully he’s distracted from taking a selfie outside the entrance to put in his baby book, because he spots a disturbing piece of scenery behind Ema’s right shoulder. The game, once again ready to showcase its new graphical prowess, switches to a video of this object, a pale blue cartoon mascot with a crown-shaped head. It’s obviously supposed to be a police patrolman, what with its sash and utility belt, but is otherwise nude. Well, that is probably the police department’s actual dress code. The plywood creature is waving its arms up and down–one with a baton, the other with a little flag for directing traffic–in a creepy herky-jerky motion that is making me rethink how I visualized the titular character in The Windup Girl. Worst of all, its undulating movement, per Ema, is accompanied by the most obnoxious, earwormy, piece-of-shit chiptune in history. But Phoenix, for once in his life, remembers something without prompting and tells Ema this is the Blue Badger, the presumptive mascot for the police department as envisioned by the chief of criminal affairs. “Wow, Mr. Wright!” Ema says. “You know a lot about the Police Department!” No. Do not encourage him.