Would you like a cigar?

[The True Ace Attorney]

Seriously, I can write/speak a load of bollocks but never actually say anything. I really should be a politician.

[spoiler=Would you like a cigar?]James Crawford. Me. The mayor. “Mayor of where?” people ask, when I introduce myself while out of town. “No business of yours my friend, now would you care for a cigar?” I reply. At that point I wipe my left hand through my short, neatly trimmed brown hair while reaching into my left breast pocket with my right hand. To be fair, I’m a pretty odd guy, though you probably guessed that already. Anyway, I, James Crawford, always dressed in one of my many bland black suits, am the mayor of a small town in the south-east area of England. Often, many people ask me how my day was. Generally, it’s quite dull. Today, however, was a journey into the extraordinary. It was filled with more excitement than a fairly exciting roller coaster and left me feeling downright lucky. And slightly empty, though that emptiness was more physical than emotional. Want to know how my day was? If not, then piss off. I have no time for dilly dallying. If you’re reading this, then you do want to know how my day was. Congratulations! You’re one step away from finding out. Just let me rub my well groomed moustache and I’ll let you be on your way. Mind the fall, the step is quite low.

This is a step.

As the dark space of my office brightened slowly as the clouds moved across the sky and let the sunlight slip through the blinds, all was well. Except, well, it wasn’t. It’s hard to define a situation as “well” when you have a bullet in your left kneecap and a gun in your face. The weird thing about these moments is that you don’t think about the immensely little time you probably have left. Instead, your mind drifts. Things like “Did I feed the dog before I left this morning?” and “I wonder if I can consolidate all of my loans into easily affordable monthly payments.” pop in and out of your head. Occasionally you feel the slight sting of pain, but the adrenaline keeps that away. Anyway, before I carry on with this incessant rambling, I should probably let you in on the big secret.

I’m in my office and have a gun to my face...

Big shocker, I know. It’d be more of a shocker if it was that simple. The gun is being held by someone... Not so shocking now, eh? Probably wasn’t even a shock the first time though. Still, you should probably know who’s holding the gun. Well, it isn’t me, for starters. It’s actually being held by the huge behemoth of a man that broke into my office during my customary morning hot chocolate. Okay, you probably didn’t need to know about the hot chocolate, but still, the point is that this guy broke into my office. He didn’t leave it there though, oh no he didn’t. He pulled out the previously mentioned gun, it’s a pretty bog standard handgun by the way and by “bog standard” I mean a dull, black handgun. Anyway, he breaks in, pulls out this gun and starts yelling about “The Boss” and that he wants me dead and just pulls the trigger. No aiming at all, he’s flailing his hands around in a bit of a panic when it goes off. By some dastardly miracle, the bullet tears through my desk and lodges itself quite cleanly in my knee. I’m not panicking though. In fact, he’s the one panicking. He’s just shot me, a well dressed gentleman who just happens to be the mayor, and now there’s a small puddle of blood by my foot, not that he can see that though. As he looks at me, and at the time I had quite a bored look to me, he goes into a bit of a rage. He probably thought I’d be at least a little worse off than he was. Then he takes a firmer hold of his gun and aims it squarely at my face.

Now, I’m looking at this guy and as the stupid thoughts are whizzing through my head, one catches my attention. This guy has a glass eye. Clearly, it has no real significance to anything at the moment, but then my mind starts racing with these other thoughts and ideas. “Where did he get it?” and “I wonder if he’ll let me keep it.” are just a couple of them. Then, as I hear him take a deep breath, I spurt out the first question that came into my head, “Where did you get that glass eye from?”

Something miraculous happened. He lowered his gun and stared confusedly at me. Taking the opportunity, I take the gun from him and take aim at his face. Now, the situation is in my favour. Unfortunately, with this, the adrenaline is ebbing away now and the pain in my knee is becoming more and more noticeable, sort of like a small child on an aeroplane or on a bus. As I’m wincing, I ask him, “Who’s your boss?”

The poor man was dumbstruck. He’d just been taken advantage of by a man who has been shot in the knee. This level of embarrassment seemed too much for him and he fainted, right where he stood. Though that seems obvious, where else would he fall? As the lumbering giant hit the floor with a dull thud, I dropped the gun, pushed my chair away from the desk and stood up, putting a lot of weight onto the desk. As the pain really begins to settle in, I let out a small yelp. Stumbling around the desk towards the fainted man, I look at him and search for anything that might help. Noticing the telltale lump of a mobile phone, I reach into his breast pocket and pull it out. It was broken. Typical, I finally have something life threatening happen and I have nothing to go on. Throwing the phone away, I climb to my feet, letting out another yelp, and limp slowly out of my office.

Passing my assistant, who was ten minutes late for work, I tell them, with a cheery face and a bloody knee, “Lovely day today isn’t it? Could you do me a favour and call the police. There’s a man in my office that has had quite an experience. Oh, and an ambulance would be nice as well, I may need some blood.”

With that, I fell to the floor, only to be rudely awakened a few hours later at a very white hospital. By the barrel of a gun.
[/spoiler]

[color="#FFFFFF"][size="1"]I'm quite sure that that was more purple than... a purple thing.[/size][/color]

[Lord Smeagle]

Is this man perhaps related to a certain Pegasus J.?

Other than that, I'm quite lost, but the story is absurdly engaging enough that I actually read the whole thing. A couple of times, actually.

[A20thCenturyBoy]

[spoiler=Chapter 3: Three's A Crowd]
[b]Alright, today we’re going to be reviewing [url=http://forum.yugiohcardmaker.net/topic/239777-would-you-like-a-cigar/]Would you like a Cigar[/url]

Let’s hope this is better than the other two. At least better than the last one. PLEASE.[/b]



James Crawford.

[b]Dio: Hello, James.

Daisuke: Oh yes, we’ve never seen this sort of opening before. This is frighteningly unique. No one in history has even so much as fathomed that he or she could begin a story with the character‘s name in a not-sentence.[/b]

Me. The mayor.

[b]Dio: You're The Mayor? I LOVED POWERPUFF GIRLS!

Daisuke: This is a common main character among YCM fiction we have here. See, he suffers from a type of amnesia that will make him forget even who he is if he does not remind himself every few minutes.[/b]

“Mayor of where?” people ask, when I introduce myself while out of town.

[b]Dio: "Yes." "No, mayor of WHERE?" "Yes!" "You're the mayor of where?" "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?!"

Daisuke: So he always introduces himself like “James Crawford. The Mayor.”

He is so badass. Badassness is shining through his every pore. It’s sickening.[/b]

“No business of yours my friend, now would you care for a cigar?” I reply.

[b]Dio: No thanks. Drugs can cause serious problems later on in life! NOW YOU KNOW!

Daisuke: At this point I’m thinking James just WANTS us to think he’s the Mayor of some mysterious town, when in fact he works a minimum-wage job. Or the amnesia already made him forget what town he’s a Mayor OF.[/b]

At that point I wipe my left hand through my short, neatly trimmed brown hair while reaching into my left breast pocket with my right hand.

[b]Dio: Fabio?

Daisuke: OMFG, description. Now we know he trimmed brown hair. I can almost picture this guy standing in front of me due to this amazing description.[/b]

To be fair, I’m a pretty odd guy, though you probably guessed that already.

[b]Dio: Compared to the last two main characters we went through...not really.

Daisuke: Yeah, remember Mr.WeirdFetishJailEscapee?

[color=blue]My fetish was weirder~[/color]

Daisuke: Shut up, Yorui, no one wants you.

[color=Blue]B-but I have yet to show my fetish to the world![/color]

Daisuke: Then go around traveling with your Pokemon and let me and Dio do our jobs.

[color=Blue]What’s a Pokemon?[/color][/b]

Anyway, I, James Crawford,

[b]Dio: "Being of sound mind and-aw, who am I kidding, I know that's a boldfaced lie."

Daisuke: See, there are the signs of amnesia again. He needs to remind himself of his own name. Fight it James, FIGHT IT.[/b]

always dressed in one of my many bland black suits,

[b]Dio: Mr. Anderson...

Daisuke: If you think they’re bland, go buy a different color. Or have you forgotten how to buy stuff? Amnesia sucks.[/b]

am the mayor of a small town in the south-east area of England.

[b]Dio: No wonder you're odd! You're the missing Monty Python member!

Daisuke: Come on, James, you can do it. Tell us the name. Tell us that small bit of exposition. YOU CAN DO IT![/b]

Often, many people ask me how my day was.

[b]Dio: They don't live to see tomorrow.

Daisuke: Wait, what? The train of thought just shifted so much it’s not even funny! “I’m the Mayor of a town, but they kicked me out cause I forgot the name of it, an- OMFG PPLZ TALK 2 MEE A LOT”[/b]

Generally, it’s quite dull.

[b]Dio: Like this story, for example.

Daisuke: “Because I have forgotten how to speak, and thus cannot reply in any way shape or form.”[/b]

Today, however, was a journey into the extraordinary.

[b]Dio: Into a dimension of light. A dimension of sound.

Daisuke: What a unique journey. Most people pick the Journey into the Unknown to start their quest.[/b]

It was filled with more excitement than a fairly exciting roller coaster

[b]Dio: So it's safe to assume it was exciting?

Daisuke: It was slightly more than fairly exciting. Which, by the way, sounds really extraordinary.[/b]

and left me feeling downright lucky.

[b]Dio: Well, there goes my Dirty Harry joke.

Daisuke: And, following this story’s usual manner, instead of telling us why he felt lucky, or why the journey was more exciting than a fairly exciting roller coaster, I’m going to assume James just drifts off into an unrelated thought now.[/b]

And slightly empty, though that emptiness was more physical than emotional.

[b]Dio: "Trust me, those Taco Bell tortillas go right through you."

Daisuke: See, I was right. Now he’s going to begin a deep, profound, and psychological inner monologue…right?[/b]

Want to know how my day was?

[b]Dio: Well-

Daisuke: Apparently I was mistaken. WHY am I not surprised?[/b]

If not, then piss off.

[b]Dio: Fine! I wanted to, but if you're so RUDE about it...

Daisuke: Hold it, I just realized. We have not moved. Any thought James could have that would further the story was interrupted by his apparent lack of attention span, and at the end of all those mindless thoughts, he just reveals himself to be a dick.[/b]

I have no time for dilly dallying.

[b]Dio: Pish posh![/b]

If you’re reading this, then you do want to know how my day was.

[b]Dio: I have no choice in the matter.

Daisuke: Then why did he ask us? Was it supposed to be funny? Does he think he can be ironic to the reader’s face and have them LAUGH at it? I dislike you, James. More than a certain fetish.

[color=blue]I promise not to talk about pajamaaas…can I be let back in?[/color]

Daisuke: …fine, but stay in the corner, and don‘t interrupt unless you‘ve got something productive to say.[/b]

Congratulations!

[b]Dio: A winner is you!

[color=blue]I get told that all the time when I wear other people’s pajamas and then they become wet and sticky.[/color]

Daisuke: …[/b]

You’re one step away from finding out.

[b]Dio: Oh, the tension.

Daisuke: Finding out…this story’s over? Pleas let me be right.[/b]

Just let me rub my well groomed moustache and I’ll let you be on your way.

[b]Daisuke: Oh, no, please take your time, I’m in no rush. *looks around for the exit*

Dio: I imagine that as being a handlebar stache, like so many stereotypical Brits have.[/b]

Mind the fall, the step is quite low.

[b]Dio: YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT BEFOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo...

Daisuke: Where did this thought come from? Am I MISSING something? Like, the actual grooming of the mustache? I mean, can‘t you even show us THAT much?[/b]

This is a step.

[b]Dio: This is your brain on drugs. Any questions?

Daisuke: Oh, thanks for clarifying it was a step. I really couldn’t tell.[/b]

As the dark space of my office brightened slowly as the clouds moved across the sky and let the sunlight slip through the blinds, all was well.

[b]Dio: Yes, a WELL written sentence! I'm as surprised as you are!

Daisuke: I’m more surprised with the fact I’m actually NOT writhing in pain like with the last fic we reviewed.[/b]

Except, well, it wasn’t.

[b]Dio: Yes it was. The grammar was correct, it wasn't a run on, and i-oh, you mean your day.

Daisuke: So the only well-written, descriptive sentence was irrelevant to the plot? Aww, I thought we were about to get out of the character’s head and into some concrete stuff.[/b]

It’s hard to define a situation as “well” when you have a bullet in your left kneecap and a gun in your face.

[b]Dio: You seem like a "glass half empty" kinda guy, amirite?

Daisuke: The transition was so sudden, I almost fell out of my seat. We went from a bunch of random thoughts to a fake description to GUNTOTHEFACEGUY.[/b]

The weird thing about these moments is that you don’t think about the immensely little time you probably have left.

[b]Dio: In fact, you could say...TIME HAS STOPPED! *shot*

Daisuke: That sentence would have SO much more impact if he HADN’T been wasting his ‘immensely little time’ with inner monologues.[/b]

Instead, your mind drifts.

[b]Dio: I thought it cut to black in the middle of a Journey song.

[color=Blue]My mind drifts all the time~[/color]

Daisuke: yeah, that happens when you have ADD.[/b]

Things like “Did I feed the dog before I left this morning?” and “I wonder if I can consolidate all of my loans into easily affordable monthly payments.” pop in and out of your head.

[b]Dio: Well, if you switch to Geico...

Daisuke: No…when GUNTOTHEFACEGUY is right in front of me, I usually… like… shiver in fear…with my mind focused on the more pressing matter: THERE’S A F*CKING GUN POINTED AT MY FACE[/b]

Occasionally you feel the slight sting of pain, but the adrenaline keeps that away.

[b]Dio: "Right. It's adrenaline. Nothing else."

Daisuke: Adrenaline really doesn’t ease the pain of a BULLET in your KNEECAP[/b]

Anyway, before I carry on with this incessant rambling, I should probably let you in on the big secret.

[b]Dio: "I'M BATMAN."

Daisuke: So…he WASN’T incessantly rambling BEFORE?[/b]

I’m in my office and have a gun to my face...

[b]Dio: WHAT A TWEEST!

[color=blue]Didn’t he mention that already?[/color]

Daisuke: He did, but see, he forgot he did, due to his chronic amnesia, and thus felt the need to tell us this again.[/b]

Big shocker, I know.

[b]Dio: See above.

Daisuke: Not really, since you don’t seem shocked at all. So I assume you’re going to ninja yourself out of this.[/b]

It’d be more of a shocker if it was that simple.

[b]Dio: But it can never be simple, can it?

Daisuke: Oh how I wish it could be…[/b]

The gun is being held by someone...

[b]Dio: I was under the assumption the gun was sentient.

Daisuke: I was under the assumption this story made sense. Oh no wait, I wasn’t.[/b]

Not so shocking now, eh?

[b]Dio: IT'S TEN TIMES AS MUCH

Daisuke: I am awestruck.[/b]

Probably wasn’t even a shock the first time though.

[b]Dio: See previous.

Daisuke: Maybe we’d be slightly tensed-up, if, instead of telling us about the gun a second time, and that it is held by someone (which is such a rarity) you were focused on the gun, and your feelings showed through. All I can imagine is this guy smiling with a calm face as GUNTOTHEFACEGUY is in front of him.[/b]

Still, you should probably know who’s holding the gun.

[b]Dio: A person!

Daisuke: We have no idea. But I’m predicting we won’t get to know who it is so easily.[/b]

Well, it isn’t me, for starters.

[b]Dio: OR IS IT

Daisuke: I was right. Go figure.[/b]

It’s actually being held by the huge behemoth of a man that broke into my office during my customary morning hot chocolate.

[b]Dio: "I'M HERE TO-oh, wait, you got hot chocolate. No, no, I can wait."

Daisuke: Wait, what? He broke into the office? I’m actually sure the police are on the way, since a huge behemoth of a man holding a gun breaking into a building’s office MIGHT just draw the attention of…oh, I don’t know, most people in the building?[/b]

Okay, you probably didn’t need to know about the hot chocolate,

[b]Dio: We didn't need to know about a lot of things.

Daisuke: Like half the things you told us, and Yorui’s pajama fetish, among other things.[/b]

but still, the point is that this guy broke into my office.

[b]Dio: THERE IS NO POINT TO THIS

Daisuke: No, I’m pretty sure there’s a point, but since this story seems determined to withhold almost every useful bit of information from us, we shouldn’t expect to know the point for a WHILE.[/b]

He didn’t leave it there though, oh no he didn’t.

[b]Daisuke: Oh no he didn’t!

Dio: He left it about 2 feet back.

[color=blue]I’m not really experienced at this, but wasn’t that sentence really pointless?[/color]

Daisuke: It WAS.[/b]

He pulled out the previously mentioned gun,

[b]No, he had it pointed at your face. Unless I missed some sort of transition to the past.[/b]

it’s a pretty bog standard handgun

[b]Dio: Never heard of BOG standard. Must be for people like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Daisuke: I’m not an expert in guns, but if BOG was supposed to be BIG, then two things. One, there should be at least one comma in that sentence, and two-

[color=blue]Ooh, can I say? Pleeeeease?[/color]

Daisuke:….fine.

[color=blue]Yay! *clears throat* PROOFREAD! *kicks Ace Attorney in the face* TSUNDERE POWER![/color]

Daisuke: …Eh, I’d save the kicking for AFTER we are assured he meant “big”[/b]

by the way and by “bog standard” I mean a dull, black handgun.

[b]Dio: Couldn't you just say a dull, black handgun?

Daisuke: See, he really meant bog…for…some reason. Anyway, apologize Yorui.

[color=blue]*blushes* F-fine…sorry for kicking you in the face…[/color]

Daisuke: Good little tsundere. Anyway, I’d have opted for description over “bog”.[/b]

Anyway, he breaks in, pulls out this gun and starts yelling about “The Boss”

[b]Dio: "I WANNA KNOW WHO WROTE THIS AND WHY!"

Daisuke: I’m guessing he went through every other office in his path asking for “The Boss” instead of just pointing the gun at the receptionist and asking where “The Boss” was. Unless James himself is “The Boss”, in which case there’d be no need for the thug asking about “The Boss” as if he didn’t know where he was.[/b]

and that he wants me dead and just pulls the trigger.

[b]Dio: Mmm whatcha saaaaaaay~

Daisuke: Why does he want him dead? Is HE “The Boss”?[/b]

No aiming at all, he’s flailing his hands around in a bit of a panic when it goes off.

[b]Dio: Anyone reading this would be the same way.

Daisuke: I find it funny how he switches to PRESENT TENSE to tell us something that happened IN THE PAST.[/b]

By some dastardly miracle,

[b]Dio: Dastardly being the key word, since you're LEAVING HIM ALIVE.[/b]

the bullet tears through my desk and lodges itself quite cleanly in my knee.

[b]Daisuke: Yeah, it went in cleanly, it didn’t hurt or anything.

Dio: Unfortunately, he had multiple chambers in his gun.[/b]

I’m not panicking though.

[b]Dio: "I'M FREAKING THE F*CK OUT!"

Daisuke: By this time amnesia has taken such a toll on his mind, he forgot how to feel fear…or pain…or to have common sense…[/b]

In fact, he’s the one panicking. He’s just shot me, a well dressed gentleman who just happens to be the mayor,

[b]Dio: And just happens to make me want to stab my eyes out with scissors...

Daisuke: “Ooooh sh*t, I shot a well-dressed guy on purpose. I am in sooo much trouble.”[/b]

and now there’s a small puddle of blood by my foot,

[b]Dio: Not a lake?

Daisuke: I miss ‘lake of blood’…[/b]

not that he can see that though.

[b]Dio: Unless it spills out on the floor.

Daisuke: If he didn’t see it, why was he freaking out about shooting the Mayor (who he came to kill, by the way) when he wasn’t even sure it hit?[/b]

As he looks at me, and at the time I had quite a bored look to me,

[b]Dio: Reading this too, huh?

Daisuke: “Yeah, my leg just got shot. Nothing new there.”[/b]

he goes into a bit of a rage.

[b]Dio: He wasn't in one before?

Daisuke: No he was just…uh…panicking after having shot his target when he wasn‘t even sure it hit? For some reason?[/b]

He probably thought I’d be at least a little worse off than he was.

[b]Dio: You are. You just have no emotions.

Daisuke: He really doesn’t. Or he doesn’t feel pain. He got shot IN THE KNEE and had a BORED look in his face.[/b]

Then he takes a firmer hold of his gun and aims it squarely at my face.

[b]Dio: Could've done this before, but nooooo.

Daisuke: No, remember, he’s the sort of thug that panics when they shoot someone. Oh no wait, there aren‘t any thugs like that.[/b]

Now, I’m looking at this guy and as the stupid thoughts are whizzing through my head, one catches my attention.

[b]Dio: "I just lost the game."

Daisuke: Out of all stupid ones, one catches his attention. One extremely pointless to the story, I bet.[/b]

This guy has a glass eye.

[b]Dio: GASP

Daisuke: It’s too easy to be right these days.[/b]

Clearly, it has no real significance to anything at the moment,

[b]Dio: What-he-no signi-IT EXPLAINS WHY HE MISSED, YOU DUMBASS!

Daisuke: Eh, holds about as much significance as anything else in his thoughts.[/b]

but then my mind starts racing with these other thoughts and ideas.

[b]Dio: "I just lost the game AGAIN!"

Daisuke: Thoughts even more stupid than the glass eye one.[/b]

“Where did he get it?” and “I wonder if he’ll let me keep it.” are just a couple of them.

[b]Dio: Instead of, "OH DEAR GOD I'M GOING TO DIE HE JUST SHOT ME I NEED TO CALL WHATEVER THE BRITISH 911 IS"

[color=blue]He really is interested by that glass eye, huh? Thinking about it to such extent while a gun is pointed at him.[/color]

Daisuke: Alas, our protagonist never really learned guns could kill people.[/b]

Then, as I hear him take a deep breath, I spurt out the first question that came into my head, “Where did you get that glass eye from?”

[b]Dio: "Oh, well, I worked on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean, and they gave me it as a going away present."

Daisuke: WHY IS THIS PROTAGONIST SO FREAKING MENTAL? He has a GUN pointed at him, and he yet he has all these random thoughts about a thug’s glass eye![/b]

Something miraculous happened.

[b]Dio: The story ended?

Daisuke: Don’t just say that, explain what happened that was miraculous. Please.[/b]

He lowered his gun and stared confusedly at me.

[b]Dio: "Is this REALLY what you should be worried about?"

Daisuke: I’d be freaking puzzled too. He had like, a gun to the guy, and the guy is like “Yo, dude, where’d you get the eye? It’s sooo gnarly”[/b]

Taking the opportunity, I take the gun from him and take aim at his face.

[b]Dio: Psyche!

Daisuke: Aww, and this fic was actually going better than the last ones. Then the crappy protagonist that I can’t even call Mary Sue because he’s not, he’s just mentally retarded, had to flash step to the thug and take the gun from him, all the while he had a bullet in his kneecap.[/b]

Now, the situation is in my favour.

[b]Dio: THERE'S the British speaking.

Daisuke: Yes, because you used main character hack to get around your desk and to the thug before he could raise the gun again and shoot you.[/b]

Unfortunately, with this, the adrenaline is ebbing away now and the pain in my knee is becoming more and more noticeable, sort of like a small child on an aeroplane or on a bus.

[b]Dio: Heh heh. Aeroplane.

Daisuke: Yes, small childrens’ knees become more noticeable while they’re in [s]airplanes[/s] aeroplanes or buses.[/b]

As I’m wincing, I ask him, “Who’s your boss?”

[b]Dio: Is that the British version of "WHO'S YOUR DADDY," or-ooooh.

[color=blue]You see, it’s funny because the thug came in asking for the boss, and now JAMES is the one asking for HIS boss, and…yeah, I’ll stop…[/color]

Daisuke: Oh what, a thug can‘t work for his own self? What are you trying to say, every big guy holding a gun HAS to have a boss? Huh? HUH?![/b]

The poor man was dumbstruck. He’d just been taken advantage of by a man who has been shot in the knee.

[b]Daisuke: We just saw that, why tell us again? Actually, isn’t this from James’ POV? What’s he doing reading the thug’s feelings?

Dio: Actually, he has an evil pla-[/b]

This level of embarrassment seemed too much for him and he fainted, right where he stood.

[b]Dio: - nevermind.

Daisuke: Wuss.[/b]

Though that seems obvious, where else would he fall?

[b]Dio: Oh, maybe, TOWARD YOUR DESK?

Daisuke: He would fall so low to the level of being a lowly thug when instead he was made to be something that doesn’t involve guns, because obviously he wasn‘t made for that stuff.[/b]

As the lumbering giant hit the floor with a dull thud,

[b]Daisuke: He doesn’t weight much, then? I mean, if a big guy holding a gun fell on the floor and I was near, it would probably be loud as hell.[/b]

I dropped the gun, pushed my chair away from the desk and stood up, putting a lot of weight onto the desk.

[b]Dio: He must be a HEFTY British gentleman.[/b]

As the pain really begins to settle in, I let out a small yelp.

[b]Dio: "COR BLIMEY!"

Daisuke: When I finally feel the pain of a bullet in my kneecap, I yelp slightly too.[/b]

Stumbling around the desk towards the fainted man, I look at him and search for anything that might help.

[b]Dio: Like 50 pounds.

Daisuke: Might help do what?[/b]

Noticing the telltale lump of a mobile phone,

[b]Dio: That's not his phone.

Daisuke: This sentence made me realize just how much tell we’ve gotten in this story thus far. Everything, basically, is told through a “I saw” or “I noticed”, we hardly get to see anything that isn’t told.[/b]

I reach into his breast pocket and pull it out. It was broken.

[b]Dio: "Wait, no, that's the battery case."

Daisuke: And he was carrying it around because…?[/b]

Typical, I finally have something life threatening happen and I have nothing to go on.

[b]Dio: Do intercoms not exist in Britain?

Daisuke: Remember, he has amnesia. He probably forgot they exist. Or maybe there aren’t any cell phone repairmen in Britain. Also, for someone who’d enjoy a life-threatening experience, why was he bored when he got shot?[/b]

Throwing the phone away, I climb to my feet, letting out another yelp, and limp slowly out of my office.

[b]Dio: WOULDN'T A MAYOR HAVE HIS OWN CELL PHONE?

Daisuke: He forgot how to dial numbers, most likely. If not, then he’s just an idiot for not calling for medical attention as soon as possible. For that matter, wouldn’t some people actually, you know, HEAR the sound of a gunshot and go see what happened?[/b]

Passing my assistant, who was ten minutes late for work, I tell them,

[b]Dio: Them? Is it a Siamese twin?

Daisuke: It was a team of ninja assistants that switch places almost instantly.[/b]

with a cheery face and a bloody knee, “Lovely day today isn’t it?

[b]Dio: "Sir, did you get drunk again?"

Daisuke: “Oh yes, my leg is bleeding. Pay no heed to it.”[/b]

Could you do me a favour and call the police.

[b]Dio: "Well, you did turn me down for that promotion..."

Daisuke: Or you could call them yourself. It’s really not all that hard. But I suppose a team of ninja assistants is faster at doing almost anything than a single amnesiac Mayor.[/b]

There’s a man in my office that has had quite an experience.

[b]Dio: He just saw Coldplay in concert.

Daisuke: And at this, and the fact the guy’s leg is bleeding, the assistant is just standing there listening silently.[/b]

Oh, and an ambulance would be nice as well, I may need some blood.”

[b]Dio: Just a gallon will do.

Daisuke: Just some blood, not any other form of medical assistance, like removing the bullet from my kneecap.[/b]

With that, I fell to the floor, only to be rudely awakened a few hours later at a very white hospital. By the barrel of a gun.

[b]Dio: ...bloody hell.

Daisuke: The gun was a cousin of the semi-sentient bog gun, and thus was yelling at him to wake up.

Wait, it’s over? SWEET.

Alright, I’ll say this now. This story was a BIG step up from the previous two stories. And it was quite hard to review because really there was nothing much to review. I mean, 90% of the time we were inside the character’s head. To be honest, I’d prefer this story to be in third person, to avoid going too far deep into the character, who I am impartial to. Simply because he, while at the same time of having a unique personality, can prove to be extremely senseless at times. This story definitely has potential, and I WOULD read more of it, but simple things can be made better, such as leaving out useless details like “But he didn’t leave it there, oh no he didn’t!”, because they just slow down the story, and have no real purpose.

[color=blue]A-and you should make your story more believable…and stuff…[/color]

Daisuke: Yes, that is true. If I look back, there’s a lot of things that don’t make sense, like a big thug guy fainting from simply having his gun taken from him and pointed at him.

Dio: And now for my two cents-If you want to keep us hooked, speed it up, and make us WANT to know what this guy is thinking. Make us care if he's in trouble. You know...MAKE HIM LESS OF A CLOUD CUCKOO LANDER, AND IF YOU HAVE TO, MAKE HIM LIKEABLE! This story can go places, if it would stop staying in one.

[color=Blue]Um…can I say it now? You know, the thing we planned? As a closing message?[/color]

Daisuke: …fine.

[color=blue]Yay! * gives thumbs up* This review is Pajama Approved~[/color]
[/b][/spoiler]

[The True Ace Attorney]

Thanks for reviewing this. You guys did an epic job. Just to address some points you made:

[code]Bog Standard = Dull, Boring and Generic. It's an actual phrase.

Your mind does tend to wander in life threatening situations. Perhaps more for some people than others but it happens, it's one of many coping mechanisms. Another being shitting bricks.

A lumbering behemoth of a man doesn't mean a musclebound badass. It could be a rather tall, overweight/muscular guy. Throw in whatever psychological state you want and presto! A lumbering behemoth!

The way it's told is the way a lot of people actually tell stories. They tend to wander off to add irrelevant stuff just to make sure you're still listening. Sure, it doesn't translate well when actually written but I was bored.

And James' "Cloud Cuckoolander" mentality is there because it's odd, at least with the given situation.[/code]

But yeah, that was awesome. Looking forward to more reviews from you.