By the way, even though we’re back to Phoenix and Ema talking, and no longer watching the video, the Blue Badger Theme of Lazy Shitty Chiptunes is still plonking away. If I rush through this scene, please know I have a really good reason. Anyway, Ema thinks the Blue Badger looks somehow familiar to her, but Phoenix ignores this, because they suddenly notice a deranged individual “dancing with the Blue Badger.” I immediately picture this individual grinding on it like they’re at the club.

There’s no way this would be funny if we didn’t already know the goofball dry humping the Blue Badger, which means it has to be either Gumshoe or Larry. And sure enough, Gumshoe spots them staring at him and runs over to see what their problem is. Phoenix asks why he’s dancing with this demented Disney ripoff, and while Gumshoe hems and haws, Phoenix blue-fonts, “Well, at least he doesn’t seem to be busy. This is our chance to get information!” To which Gumshoe responds, “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a very busy man, pal.” EEEEEEEK.

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Among the unimportant background details here at the police department are a banner announcing a “Crime Fighting Campaign,” which no one thinks is a weird thing for the police to require a PR campaign for; a patrol car that Ema thinks was painted to look like a panda; and a patrolman and a detective sharing some HIGH-LARIOUS joke about a guy sticking his dick in soup. I don’t know, and I’m not going to examine them again. Finally, even though Gumshoe’s theme had saved me from the Blue Badger Theme of Lazy Shitty Chiptunes, I have Phoenix examine the mascot again and start the whole fucking thing over. Worse, Gumshoe tells them he is the father of this mess of paint and plywood. He says it’s his “masterpiece,” which speaks volumes about Gumshoe. As they watch it dance some more, Gumshoe explains, “The chief threw together some designs and I just did my thing, pal. ….It’s battery-powered, so it can go anywhere! There’s no switch, so it just dance dance dances until the batteries die!” That is maybe the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone who works here must want to strangle Gumshoe to death with his own tie. Ema reflects, “Poor Blue Badger…fated to dance until he drops.” At least while he’s annoying the shit out of people on an infinite loop, someone could glue a sign to his hands advertising an office furniture clearance sale. The Blue Badger is added to the court record, which is not a promising sign of things to come.

And don’t encourage him, either.

Phoenix decides to try and pump Gumshoe for information about the case just like Gumshoe was pumping the Blue Badger. Among the flurry of items he tosses at the detective from the court record is the ID card he found at the garage. Gumshoe identifies it as a detective’s card and insists Phoenix shouldn’t have it, but once he gets over that he takes a closer look at it. “Hmm…let’s see…” he ponders. “‘Bruce Goodman‘…Goodman… Sounds familiar… Nah, my mistake.” Ugh, can we just get on with this? Ema reminds him that they were both detectives and that he should at least know the man that way (that way), and then Gumshoe goes, “Whoa!!! Now I remember! Bruce Goodman! He’s the victim!” And to my immense surprise, Phoenix blue-fonts, “That’s what I thought…” Holy shit, he figured that out on his own? What’s next for our hero, remembering details in court without four flashbacks and three helpful reminders from the prosecution?

With that mystery for the ages solved, Phoenix can ask Gumshoe about Bruce Goodman. It becomes immediately clear that he knows nothing about him other than his name and occupation. At least his long hours being grilled by Edgeworth have allowed him to retain those facts. But more importantly, with the benefit of the larger photo, I now notice Bruce Goodman has a douchey chin beard to go with his white fedora, making him look like a total “nice guy” who owns a dogeared copy of The Game and considers Mystery a personal hero. But back to Ema and Gumshoe. Ema is wondering why they found Bruce Niceguy’s ID card so far away from the car trunk, and Gumshoe is wondering why he was even in the parking garage, since, “There was an evidence transferal for a case he handled two years ago.” I’m sure it’s a totally different two-years-ago case than the one Edgeworth and Lana worked on. Nothing to see here.

Gumshoe is crazy jealous of Detective Niceguy right now.

When Phoenix asks Gumshoe about the case, though, Gumshoe warns him he’d better not be considering taking on Ms. Skye’s defense, because she’s hella guilty and stuff. “She says she summoned the detective to the Prosecutor’s Office and…she killed him,” he tells them. Bruce Niceguy probably totally thought that was a booty call. He’d been negging Lana pretty hard, so it was bound to pay off. “But what if she’s not telling the truth!?” Ema demands. Gumshoe’s like, “Come on, she did that shit,” but Ema keeps throwing progressively crazier objections in his face, like the possibility of faked evidence. Finally, Gumshoe frowns and asks Phoenix to have a little stage-whispering session with him because Ema is freaking him out. “Why is this little girl so peeved at me?” he asks. Phoenix explains, over Ema glowering at both of them, that she’s the defendant’s sister, and that’s enough to get Gumshoe to relax a little. He knows Phoenix just loves hanging out with teenage girls for some fucking reason. “Oh, by the way,” Gumshoe adds, “You might want to keep your voices down. You don’t want to be overheard using words like ‘faked’…” Apparently the police department has a bit of a panty-twist about such allegations. Yet another thing I’m sure we’ll never hear about again.

Finally, Ema asks what Gumshoe’s doing here, bumping and grinding with a cartoon character, if there’s a murder investigation going on. Turns out he’s been booted out of criminal affairs because the Lana Skye case is so important that “Only the highest-ranked people are being let into Criminal Affairs now… The lowest ranking guy in there is our chief of detectives.” Even Phoenix thinks it’s stupid to keep detectives out for an important case, and he wonders if there’s something else going on. Especially since Gumshoe could be, like, at the crime scene. “The Chief of Police himself is directing this investigation, pal,” Gumshoe answers. “And Officer Marshall was assigned to the parking lot.” Ema indicated earlier that ol’ Rooster Cockbutt was a detective, not an officer, but Gumshoe is sure to add, “A patrolman in charge of a crime scene… It’s unheard of, pal!” It is now obvious to everyone except Gumshoe that he’s being stonewalled out of this investigation, if some weirdo in a cowboy outfit who’s not even a detective was asked to handle it over him. Did he bring the wrong flavor of lube to the police department orgy night?

It’s not that enjoyable, but he just keeps pumping away!

Presenting the King of Prosecutors trophy or the other Edgeworth-centric evidence just makes all three of these love-struck clowns go “POOR EDGEWORTH” at each other at length, and we have plenty more of that coming, because now Gumshoe too wants to talk about the evil rumors surrounding his companion in penetrating trust. As we flash back to the Robert Hammond murder and the dickboat again, Gumshoe says the murder trial has made the subtext of Edgeworth’s dirty dealings supertext, and nobody can shut up about what a slimeball he is now, whether or not there’s evidence of his misdeeds. “Mr. Edgeworth has always had unusually strong ties to the department higher-ups,” he tells them as well. “It’s only natural that people would be suspicious.” That doesn’t really make sense in this specific context, not even when Gumshoe seemingly ties that to another rumor: “People say the only reason he took this case…is because he’s aiming for the Chief Prosecutor position himself!” Oh, come on. Do you move up the list for the office because you’re present when the previous occupant is sent to jail? How stupid. In fact, you’d think the reverse would be true and anyone associated with the case at all would be total poison for a higher position. Of course, Gumshoe doesn’t believe this evil lie, and knows Edgeworth is “biting the bullet” and taking on a case he doesn’t want so justice can be done. I’m so glad I can only see Gumshoe from the chest up right now.

Sadly, gossip about his beloved Edgeworth is all Gumshoe really has to share, because as was already implied, he’s not working the case. Rooster Cockbutt, real name Jake Marshall according to Gumshoe, was appointed directly by the chief of police to handle the case. I feel like I’m saying this a lot, but wait and see how stupid that’s going to look by the time we’re through. “Officer Marshall…” Phoenix wonders. “Is he some kind of Wild West sheriff or something?” I don’t know why Phoenix feels such a need to explain Marshall’s wardrobe choices. I mean, I know why, but come on, man, there’s a murder to solve, here. “No, Jake Marshall’s just a regular officer…” Gumshoe says with a grin. “From West LA.” West LA! Do you guys get it? Well, DO YOU? If Marshall ever meets up with Yanni Yogi and they start talking about western pasta traditions, I am going to pour cement on my feet and take a swim.

Gumshoe at least has one way to help Phoenix, and hands him a letter he can use to gain access to the crime scene. “I’ll be surprised if this gets us anywhere,” Phoenix thinks, just like he does with literally every item Gumshoe has ever given him. The envelope containing the letter has a conspicuous bit of writing in black marker with a big X over it, so Phoenix uses his scientific investigation techniques to examine it more closely. Meaning Ema just reads it for him. “Let’s see…’Annual Bonus: $20,'” she reads, and immediately wonders if someone forgot some zeroes. Phoenix is like, “Noooooope.” They should really treat the poor man better–just like Edgeworth is the only prosecutor in the city, it seems like Niceguy’s death has left the department with only one actual detective. Granted, one that wants to get a piece of plywood pregnant behind the police department.

Armed with this surely infallible piece of paper from a powerful detective who is not a department joke in the slightest, Phoenix and Ema return to the prosecutors’ office parking garage to deal with the fucking cowboy again. They walk in just in time to overhear a conversation between two people labeled “???” which I think literally everyone in this recap other than Phoenix has been so far. One of them, totally not Angel Starr, says, “I have to be getting back to the shop…” and the other replies, “Sorry… Looks like I’ll be in this pit ’til the sun sleeps.” Oh, I’m so sure that’s not Marshall. And then one of them goes, “I’ll see you in my dreams tonight, then, baby.” That must be Marshall because Angel doesn’t remotely seem that sentimental and is also a lesbian. Angel herself finally appears just to make Ema uncomfortable. “Why the surprised looks?” Angel says sweetly. “Didn’t I mention…? I’ve got a boyfriend in Criminal Affairs, too.” Pfft. I’m starting to think, aside from Marshall who’s probably getting something out of an arrangement with her, that Angel’s boyfriends are all fake Canada Boyfriends. If Angel, Lana, and Mia are the game’s Ambiguously Lesbian Trio, then Angel is totally the Larry of the group. “What happened to the security guard!?” Phoenix blue-fonts in horror, like he was rooting for those two crazy kids to make it work.

But everything is bigger in Texas, Phoenix! Everything.

Enough about Angel for now–we’ll have an upsetting amount of time with her later. Marshall appears and leaves Phoenix wondering again why anyone would put this demented drunken cowpoke in charge of a murder scene. When Gumshoe is the competent, reasonable alternative, I don’t even know what to say. Marshall is literally cockblocking Phoenix from examining the Penismobile or anything else in the area, and suggests that they have a “duel at sunset” for the right to touch all of Edgeworth’s stuff over there. “I think one body per murder case is enough, thanks,” thinks Phoenix in a truly annoying bit of foreshadowing.

Presenting any evidence to Marshall or talking to him is a colossal waste of time unless you’re interested in hokey western speak, which I am emphatically not. The only thing that will make him open up is Gumshoe’s letter, though not because he takes it seriously. He calls Gumshoe an “old cowdog,” a tough but fair description, and then asks, “Hmm… He holding a birthday party or something?” No, because he has no money and nobody would come. Poor Gumshoe. Marshall points out to Phoenix that Gumshoe wrote “invitation” instead of “introduction,” but fear not, Phoenix! “No worries,” Marshall says. “This proves it’s from Detective Gumshoe, better than a blood test.” Ouch. Gumshoe felt that burn all the way back at the police department.