Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

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Ferdielance
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Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by Ferdielance »

Fun for the Whole Family
Spoiler : Harmless party games :
Did Edgeworth find Franziska's eighth birthday party awkward? Of course. But there was no denying the cake was delicious, the streamers were surprisingly tasteful, and the noisemakers were made of real silver. All in all, he enjoyed it.

That is, until it was time for the party games.

"I will crush you," whispered Franziska, wielding a licorice whip menacingly. "I have played this game all my life! It is a von Karma tradition."

"What game?"

What Manfred was carrying looked suspiciously like a satchel filled with evidence bags. Bloody evidence bags, and a knife.

Franziska smiled. "Pin the Murder on the Bystander."
----

On the Statistics of Forged Evidence Lists
Spoiler : Manfred Poppins :
The tension was palpable.

"Do you mean to say," said the Judge, "that Mr. Edgeworth's charges are accurate? And that autopsy report... isn't?"

"Bah!" Von Karma waved a hand. "The Defense is in the throes of desperation. Not once has a prosecutor been convicted of evidence forgery in this state's history, not once!"

But Gregory Edgeworth was undeterred. "True. But Prosecutor von Karma, my contacts in the Justice Department have been reading over the evidence lists from California trials over the past ten years, and they've found disturbing trend."

"This is absurd!" roared von Karma. "Your Honor, I demand that you silence this imbecile!"

"Objection denied. Go on, Mr. Edgeworth."

"On average," said Gregory, "no fewer than 1.3 pieces of prosecution evidence per trial have shown 'serious defects in collection or verification.'"

"Oh, my!" said the Judge. "That's shocking!"

"The imperfections of other Prosecutors have no bearing on this case!" Von Karma regained his composure. "The statistic is surely quite different for my record."

"True. Over all of the trials that Prosecutor von Karma has run in the state of California," said Gregory, "the average is closer to 3.5, not taking into account -"

"How dare you!" von Karma slammed the bench. How dare you present such rank stupidity in this courtroom! This - this stupid California list statistic! How atrocious!"

A brief silence.

"Why do you say nothing, Edgeworth? Your statistic is -"

With utmost composure, Gregory said, "Would the Prosecution please repeat their statement? I don't believe I heard it correctly."

Miffed, von Karma rattled it off quickly. "I said your stupid California list statistic is atrocious!"

The Judge raised his eyebrows. "Stupid California list statistic is atrocious?"

Fits of giggling were beginning to make themselves heard in the gallery. Seeing that, somehow, things had turned against her father, a girl in the audience shouted out in his defense: "The stupid California list statistic's ALL atrocious!"

Before the situation could deteriorate further, the Judge brought down his gavel. "Order! Order! The next person to cause such disorderly mirth in the gallery will be penalized, Defense or Prosecution! Is this understood?"

"Yes, Your Honor," said Gregory.

"The fault is entirely with the Defense!" declared Manfred. "Why should I need to raise laughter in the gallery? I am a von Karma, and, as such, am practically perfect in every way!"
---
It's Almost Uncanny
Spoiler : An Unfair Advantage :
As Maya walked away from the championship with her grand prize, a wheelbarrow full of burgers, Edgeworth frowned disapprovingly. "I'm sure that's cheating, Ms. Fey."

"That's 'Ace Elvis Impersonator' Fey to you!"
---
Pearl and Phoenix and Zombies
Spoiler : No apologies will be given :
As Edgeworth lurched towards him, Phoenix raised the gun and placed his finger on the trigger. One shot to the head. One shot, and it would be over. But Miles had been infected while alive, and still looked like his old self.

"Miles, stop. I know - I know you're still in there! Don't make me do this!"

Edgeworth replied by lunging swiping the pistol from Phoenix's hand. And when Phoenix turned to flee, he was faced with the weathered grey wall of the alley. There was nowhere to go, and he collapsed in utter despair.

Suddenly, a resounding CLANG cut through the air, and the zombie crumpled to the ground, right next to the back entrance of the Wright and Co Law Offices. Behind the corpse stood Pearl, a large cast-iron pan raised high over her head.

"Wh-what's that?" asked Phoenix, barely able to form the words.

"It's a wok, Mr. Nick. It's very heavy." As her burst of adrenaline gave out, the wok fell to the ground.

In spite of the grief and guilt, Phoenix was able to mutter a thank you. To this, Pearl only replied, "It is a medium's place to protect people, Mr. Nick."

Slowly, she helped Phoenix to his feet. "There's an old Kurain song about this," she added.

Smiling weakly, Phoenix said, "Do you remember it?"

"Yes:"

I would wok five hundred Miles
And I would wok five hundred more
Just to be the one to wok a thousand Miles
To fall down at your door...
---

Electrochemistry
Spoiler : Spoilers for AAI :
When Calisto Yew confronted Byrne, she was unprepared for his stubbornness. In the end, she just had to rush at him, knife drawn, and hope for the best; the debacle that followed set back the counterfeit smuggling scheme by a few years.

But when Kay intervened, she was ready. She had infiltrated the police as Shih-Na, and when she rushed at the girl, she had the excuse she needed to detain her. The last counterfeit plate made its way safely to Alba, and all was well.

Moral:

It takes two Faradays' worth of charge for one mole copper to deposit a plate.
---

On Canine Name Origins
Spoiler : Clams :
It had been a straightforward question, and Kristoph didn't know the answer. But with his twelve-year-old brother looking up at him that way, he couldn't very well admit that.

"What does vongole mean? Come now, Klavier. Everybody knows that. Why, I'm sure that even the waitress knows!"

Maggey stiffened, not used to being put on the spot. "Uh... yes, sir! It means, um... 'spotted!' Because of the dark clams in the white sauce, sir!"

"You see?" said Kristoph, smiling smugly.

One learns something new every day.
---

Comic Relief
Spoiler : DD spoilers :
The first time it happened, Simon didn't laugh. The joke was too old, and he'd heard it before.

He and Fulbright had just met a bedraggled Detective Gumshoe, clad in a battered trenchcoat and waving a rumpled bag of vital evidence. After shouting a quick apology for the state of the delivery, Gumshoe had thrown on a pizza delivery boy's cap and sprinted off, presumably late to his second job.

"Hey, that reminds me of a joke," said Fulbright.

"Does it," said Simon.

"Do you know what the difference is between Dick Gumshoe and a pizza?"

Simon was silent.

"A pizza can feed a family of four! Ha ha!"

Fulbright grinned expectantly, but Simon only frowned.

"...I'll have to see about that man's salary."

---

The second time it happened, Simon didn't laugh. He didn't even notice.

"Fool Bright? More like Fool Proof!"

"What are you jabbering about?"

"My investigations are foolproof, or my name isn't Fulbright!"

----

The third time it happened, Simon didn't laugh. He was too perplexed, as the joke made no sense whatsoever, at least at the time.

"Why did the detective cross the spy?" asked Fulbright.

"..."

"To get to the other side!"

-----


The last time it happened, Simon was visiting him in the hospital. The sniper's bullet had missed his heart, but mangled his left lung. With painful effort, he propped himself up on an elbow and stared at his visitor.

After a moment's silence, the wounded man spoke.

"Knock, knock," he said.

"Who's there?"

"I have no idea."
----

(Added: 11/20/16):

"But What If Manfred's Other Daughter Had Been a Surgeon?"
Spoiler : AU :
King of Prosecutors Dies of Post-Operative Infection

KARMASTADT, Germany - High Prosecutor Manfred Von Karma died yesterday of an acute antibiotic-resistant infection following what authorities believe to have been a covert surgical procedure performed by his daughter, Angela von Karma. Angela von Karma has refused to divulge the reasons for the operation's secrecy, but a preliminary autopsy revealed evidence that a bullet had been removed from the patient's shoulder. The risk of the surgery was "greatly worsened" by the lack of a proper operating room, said a source close to the investigation, "and the matter was a foolish indulgence from the start."

Services are scheduled for Sunday the 15th at 6:00 PM, at the church on the von Karma estate, Our Lady of Crushing Retribution. Visitors are welcome pending a preliminary background check.
--

Winning Strategy
Spoiler : Another Anecdote of Franziska and Edgeworth's Youth :
"Impossible! A von Karma never loses at hangman!"

"You know, that will happen if if you keep using the same word every time."

"Ah, but there I have you, little brother. You would never expect a genius of my caliber to do THAT!"

CATEGORY: NOUN

----
--

Harry Potter and the Cross-Examination of the Phoenix
Spoiler : Decisive contradiction? :
Phoenix felt a headache coming on.

"For clarification's sake, the killer you saw wore brown robes and broken glasses held together with masking tape? And he had a tattoo of a lightning bolt on his forehead, just above his nose?"

"Yes," replied the witness, "Exactly."

A long pause.

"Do you seriously expect us to believe a Harry Potter cosplayer killed someone?"

"Mr. Wright," warned the Judge, "we've seen far, far stranger things in this courtroom. Do not badger the witness!"

"Yes, Your Honor..." (But seriously? Seriously?)

Edgeworth smirked. "Witness, please repeat your testimony."

--- What I Saw ---

* The killer looked exactly like Harry Potter!
* He had brown robes, broken glasses held together with a piece of masking tape, and a tattoo of a lightning bolt on his forehead.
* He shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
* And Damon Trolmotive fell to the ground like a sack of cloaked potatoes!


"HOLD IT!"

(Present: Crime Scene Map)

"'Lightning bold on his forehead,' you say?"

"Yes!"

"Take a look at this diagram, Mr. Stoatley! If he was sitting where you said he was, you couldn't POSSIBLY have seen the lightning bolt on his forehead!"

The crowd gasped and the gavel fell. "Explain this!" said the Judge.

"Well, um, he got up!" said the witness. "Damon got up to run, and the defendant jumped up to follow him, and when he turned, that's when I saw him pull his wand!"

"You saw him pull a WAND?" Edgeworth felt a migraine coming on.

"Yes!" Stoatley nodded. "He pulled a wand and pointed it at Damon, then shouted 'Avada Kedavra!'"

"And that's all you saw?"

"Absolutely!"

(Is there something wrong with this?)

* No, there isn't.
* Yes, there is!

"OBJECTION!"

Phoenix slammed the bench. "What you have just described is totally impossible!"

The Judge had to silence another commotion. "Please explain yourself, then, Mr. Wright. Why is it impossible for the witness to have seen what he saw?"

Phoenix shook his head. "It's not what he saw, it's what he DIDN'T see. When a wizard casts Avada Kedavra, there's always a green flash!"

Silence.

Edgeworth raised a finger. "Cosplayer."

"Right," said Phoenix, scratching his head and grinning hopelessly. "Cosplayer. Um, can we just do the penalty and move on?"

BOOM.
--

Lawrence Butz: Ace Attorney
Spoiler : Another AU :
"On the charge of murder, this court hereby finds Will Powers... Not Guilty!"

Something in Miles Edgeworth's mind snapped. It was one thing for Larry to find Lana's real murderer - desperation and self-defense could make people do amazing things. But to lose to the Butz twice in a row? It was an outrage!

What sort of person had that kind of luck? A few lunch plates, a hole in the studio wall, a chance encounter with a fanboy, and he'd toppled the Prosecution like a house of cards. And, to make matters worse, he oscillated between competence and eye-gushing pathetic bathos with a frequency of once every five minutes, at the most.

"C'mon, Edgey," said Larry, entirely too familiarly given the circumstances. "It could be worse! What if, like, it was Nick who turned into a lawyer and kicked your butt?"

"What, Phoenix Wright?" Edgeworth scowled. "Don't make me laugh."

Butz was ridiculous, but Wright? That would have been inconceivable.

---

"You have proven nothing," said Manfred von Karma, smirking. "I have no wound, you fool. Give up."

(Crap, crap, crap! Why did I leave that metal detector at the lake?! Why did I take Missile? Think, dude, think... AHA, he was totally turning that shoulder away from me! That's where he got shot!)

"Your Honor," shouted Larry, "I can totally prove that he was wounded!"

Boldly, he walked to the Prosecution Bench. Manfred harrumphed, and suppressed the urge to turn away slightly; there was something unnerving about the idiot's confidence. Was there going to be another surprise witness? Or - what was he doing now?

Larry held up his right hand, fingers pressed flat together and pointed directly at the prosecutor's face. Then, slowly, he began to undulate it back and forth hypnotically. Who knew he'd end up getting so much out of Professor Fine's Torts class, in the end? And they'd called him crazy for writing up that hypothetical class action lawsuit against the Three Stooges, complete with scene-by-scene commentary.

"Whoopwhoopwhoop," said Larry, his expression grim. "Whooopwhoopwhoop." Manfred von Karma furrowed his brow, suppressing the urge to follow the movement of the hand. Did this fool think he could hypnotize a von Karma?

(POINK!)

A two-finger jab to the shoulder made von Karma howl in agony, doubling over. It was still sensitive, years later. When he finally had regained his breath, he said, "You idiot! I was shot there in a hunting accident!"

"You said you had no wound, von Karma!" said Larry with righteous and awesome fury.

"It was not relevant!"

"Nuh-uh! NO TAKEBACKS!"

The gavel came down. "Prosecutor von Karma, I am obliged to sustain the Defense's request that takebacks be barred from this trial. If you do not explain this, it will be necessary to penalize -"

"FOOLS, ALL OF YOU!" Glowering, fist clenched, Manfred von Karma gave Larry Butz the staredown of his life. "You could take the very bullet from my shoulder, and it would prove nothing. The only ballistic link to the crime... mysteriously vanished from the evidence."

(You... you JERK! That's not fair! How am I supposed to do the bullet-matchy thing?)

The judge hemmed and hawwed, and finally shook his head, a little disgusted. "I believe the Prosecution has a point. There is no way to disprove their claim that they were hunting small game with a handgun, and somehow injured themselves and neglected to seek medical attention for six months."

"DUDE! DUDE! THAT IS SUCH BS!"

The gavel slammed down. "Mr. Butz! Do not force me to cite you for contempt. I will now declare a verdict in this case, as soon as the Prosecution has confirmed their story."

"E-excuse me?!" replied Manfred, shrinking back.

"Well, you know," said the Judge, oblivious to the effect of his words, "German law requires that you register your firearms! I'm sure we can clear this up in a few minutes; just have your estate fax us the forms for the handgun you were hunting with."

Larry stared. "Dude. Your Honor-Dude. What if..."

But Manfred only waggled a finger. "I do, in fact, possess such records." He had forged them for just this eventuality. "Shall I have the gun sent as well? But I should warn you.. I filed down the inside of the barrel to clean residue! There can be no match for that reason. Now, have we not wasted enough time?"

Again the gavel came down. "I am forced to agree, Prosecutor von Karma. This is, indeed, a farce. I hereby declare Miles Edgeworth -"

(How did it all get turned around so quickly? Duuude, this is so wrong!)

But then...

"ARF! ARF!"

Silhouetted in the courtroom doors stood Missile, wet with lake water, a soaked plastic baggie dangling from his mouth. And inside the baggie was...

"THE BULLET! CURSE YOU! IF IT HADN'T BEEN FOR YOU MEDDLING FOOLS AND YOUR DOG, I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH THIS! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The trial came to a swift end.

---

"I should warn you, Mr. Butz," said Franziska, "that if you do not take the Guilty plea in this case - Justified Self-Defense - I will crush you!"

"The Prosecution has made its position clear. Mr. Butz, how does the Defense plead?"

"Uh," said Larry, "can I plead for the Prosecution's number?"

---

"You should have protected her, Butz," said Jake, glaring at Larry through his visor. "Where I come from, we got a word for a man who doesn't stand by his gal."

"But Lana wasn't my gal! I mean, there was that one time, but we were really drunk and she said it didn't mean anything, and -"

"Shut yer trap, varmint. I've come up from the depths of Hell to teach you a lesson, and you ain't stoppin' me."

"... do they have whiskey in Hell?"

"No," said Jake, swilling his fourth flask of the day. "That's what makes it Hell, see."

"That sucks. I totally feel for you, dude."

---

"All that time... it was you?"

Mindy looked down and blushed. "I... I had to take Cindy's name. Forgive me... Lar-Bear."

"I knew it," said Larry, crying great manly tears, "I knew the girl I loved wasn't a psycho killer!"

"That... that's so romaaaaantic!" gushed Phoenix, sketching the scene furiously. Maybe afterwards he could get Jake to model for Jake Marshall's Rodeo Round-Up, but for now, he enjoyed the moment.
---

Learning the Ropes
Spoiler : Friendship as a Practiced Skill :
After ten years of knowing Detective Gumshoe (twice fired, twice rehired), four years of anger counseling, and two years spent helplessly watching his marriage disintegrate, Franziska von Karma found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she knew a little more about how 'friends' worked. Who was to know that this would turn out to be important? Given the demands of her studies, she could hardly have been expected to bother with them before her nervous breakdown, but the inexperience galled her now.

It was pathetic. For once in her life, she cared what the great fool felt, but every measure she took seemed to make him worse off. Not only that, his raincoat was clearly insufficient for the weather, but he refused to do the sane thing and replace it. His ex-wife had given it to him, and that was that.

"Detective!" she barked. "I appreciate the work you did today. You performed well." And this much was sincere; it had taken him years, but Dick Gumshoe had finally learned how to document a crime scene properly, disturbing nothing unnecessarily. It had been like training a schnauzer to bark the Aria of the Queen of Night, but it had eventually paid off.

"Thanks, Franziska," he said, faking a smile as obvious as a Band-Aid slapped over a deep cut. At least he was willing to first-name her; getting that across had been an ordeal, and she wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't been a little jealous of the rapport Phoenix Wright always seemed to build with his assistants. "Always glad to help."

What bothered her most was the Pavlovian flinch she got whenever she spoke to him. It was if she were somehow unpleasant to talk to, or he still associated her with pain, even though she hadn't whipped anyone in years. It was all so unreasonable. "I mean that, Detective. And I should like to buy you dinner. Chez Couteuse." She smiled, trying to make the prospect as tempting as possible. "I've heard they've just earned another Michelin star."

Gumshoe looked confused. "What do tires have to do with food? But, um, thanks, but I've eaten. But thanks." Once again, his eyebrows crept downward.

Argh! I know that's a lie! I saw his sack lunch on his desk! Could it be that... he feels intimidated by high-class cuisine? A different approach, then. "In that case, I believe we've collected enough evidence for the day! You may take the day off and go home."

At the word 'home', Gumshoe inhaled sharply. "Um, thanks. Glad I've done all I can do," he said, sounding about as far from thankful as was possible. Could it be that he saw the early dismissal as a slight on his abilities? No, unlikely. Or was it his home? But he had a good apartment, cozy, perhaps cramped when Byrde was living there with him. But with her gone, there should be more than enough room.

("It seems I shall be gone for the entire week. You will be alone in the house. I trust you can manage?"

"Yes, Papa," said Franziska. She was old enough to handle this, of course! What sort of child requires constant supervision at eight?

But, even so, whenever this happened, it was foolishly difficult to focus on her studies, as if she and her books were in the middle of a great, empty stage, and everything she said echoed back at her from the balconies.)


"AH!" she exclaimed. "You, Detective Gumshoe, are lonely!"

A deputy looked up, scowled, and shook his head. What, had she been wrong? No, the detective was nodding. "Yeah. I guess."

"I know just the thing," said Franziska, nodding sagely. "I saw how you dote on Missile, the department dog. Well - he's yours. A gift."

"That's awfully nice of you, Ms. - Franziska. But um, you know Missile died last week?"

Something unaccountable twinged in Franziska's chest. "What?"

"Truck. Sorry nobody told you. I guess they didn't think you'd -"

"I do care!"

She hadn't meant to raise her voice, but now everyone was staring, as if she had said something unexpected. For once, it felt uncomfortable. "What I mean to say, Richard, is that I do care." Looking for the words that would express, as precisely as possible, how she felt, she added, "You have a problem, and I want to help you find a solution."

"HOLD IT!"

Her brother seemed to appear from nowhere, marching out of the rain with an angry scowl. "Detective Gumshoe! Someone has stolen the King from my chess set!"

"What?!" Gumshoe perked up. "But it's - it's one-of-a-kind, sir! Do we have any suspects?"

"Too many," said Edgeworth, pulling out a notebook. "I met with five officers today from 1:00 to 2:00, and I discovered the theft at 2:16. Are you busy?"

"No, sir!" said Gumshoe, grinning. "Ms. von Karma just let me off work for the day!"

"Excellent. Let's go. Thank you, Franziska - we'll talk about this later."

She stared as the two plodded off to solve this unaccountable theft. The piece was valuable, yes, but only as part of a set. Why on earth would an officer risk their career to steal it? But it was all for the best, perhaps. Whoever the culprit was, it was clearly lifting the detective's spirits, and -

Ah. I see.

It seemed that, when it came to cheering up Detective Gumshoe, she was still learning the ropes.
---

The Dankest Turnabout
Spoiler : Can you tell this was written in 2010? :
"Will the Prosecution please deliver its opening statement?"

"Your Honor," said Edgeworth, "the defendant, Mr. Jayle, is accused of accidentally ninety-five grams of cocaine." The court stenographer did a double-take, but Edgeworth just continued as if there'd been no omission. "I heard you like verdicts, Your Honor, so let's put a Jayle in our jail so he can sell in his cell."

Beat that, Wright. "All your case are belong to us."

"LEAVE MY CLIENT ALONE!" shouted Wright. "He's innocent! The photograph was doctored; I can tell from some of the pixels!"

The Judge banged his gavel furiously. "What on earth is going on here?! What is this about 'pixels?' I demand an explanation."

"Your Honor," said Wright, "the Prosecution and Defense are settling a bet... IN AMERICA."

"A bet... about memes," added Edgeworth, keeping his tone absolutely level. "The cancer that is killing this courtroom."

The Judge perked up. "Oh! You mean like 'Kink Memes?'" Seeing the looks of incomprehension, he then added, "Er, never mind. You mean, like 'catchphrases?'"

"A WINNER IS YOU," said Phoenix.

"Oh ho!" The Judge was getting into the spirit of things now. "Well, I know a few memes myself! Like... TIPPECANOE!"

He waited through the blank stares. Nothing. "This is an outrage!" cried the Judge. "You're all penalized for failing to respond in the proper manner! When I say, 'Tippecanoe,' you say..."

A longer pause. Something filtered through Edgeworth's memory, and he finally ventured, "... 'and Tyler, too?' I've never actually heard anybody say that."

The Judge jumped on this. "What, never?"

"No, never."

"What, never?"

"I just said, 'No, never.' I don't see - why are you glaring at me, Your Honor?"

"Court is adjourned," cried the Judge, "while I weep for the state of our youth."

Well, shoot, thought Phoenix. I guess I'd better see if I can get some of my money back from Mr. Astley.
-

Three Impressions and a Flashback
Spoiler : Godot Does Impressions :
"blah blah blah foolish fool blah blah blah," said Godot, making the most intensely constipated face he could while flailing about with the pool noodle. "foolish fools and their foolish faces, blah blah, i have serious psychological issues, blah blah..."

Franziska furrowed her brow. "That is not amusing in the least."

---

"blah blah revenge, blah blah blah Mia humiliated me so bad, blah blah blah i have no boobs, blah blah blah..."

"Prosecutor Godot!" snapped the Judge, before the spirit could escape from Maya's body and float across the courtroom to choke him. "I ask that you show some professionalism, please!"

"blah blah, pwofessionawism, blah blah hmm, i don't think i understand this case, blah blah OH NO WHERE HAS MY HAIR GONE blah blah blah..."

---

"blah blah blah think i'm soooooooo cool," muttered Mia as she plodded through even more paperwork her senior partner had considerately left for her. "blah blah black coffee, darker and more bitter than i was when Cindy the cheerleader stood me up, blah blah - Oh, um, hi, Diego!"
--

Pretty
Spoiler : Drunk-Dialing Witness :
It was mere days after his (rather unfortunate) victory against Mia Fey when Miles Edgeworth's phone rang in the dead of night, waking him out of a deep sleep. He fumbled around the nightstand in the dark, grabbed the receiver, and concealed his grumpiness as best as he could. "Hello?"

"Miiiiles~~~." He could hear the tildes, it was that bad.

"Hello?" His brow furrowed. "Who is this?"

"Heeheeehee. Don't you remember me? It's Missie! Missie Foster!" Hawthorne punctuated that with a hiccup, demonstrating that some people really do make astoundingly stereotypical drunks. In the background, he could hear the sounds of shouting and music; a college party, perhaps.

"Ah. Yes, Ms. Hawthorne. Can I help you?" I hope not.

"Miles... I have a que~stion for you..."

Great. "It's terribly late, Ms. Hawthorne. Don't you think -"

She cut in. "Hee... do you think I'm pretty?"

"What?"

"Do you think I'm preeeeeeetttty?"

Good god. "You are an attractive young lady. Is there anything else?"

"For what it's worth," slurred Dahlia, "I think you're very attractive, too."

"I see."

With a final giggle, she hung up, leaving him to wonder why, exactly, she felt the need to become so astoundingly drunk.

---

Winston Payne's phone rang.
Last edited by Ferdielance on Mon Nov 21, 2016 9:38 am, edited 11 times in total.
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by mercurialSK »

Ferdie I'm still convinced you're like some kind of wizard or something XD These are all incredible lol
Spoiler : :
Pin the murder on the bystander is the best.
And welcome back?
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by SuperAj3 »

OMG THIS ONE! It's great XD
As Maya walked away from the championship with her grand prize, a wheelbarrow full of burgers, Edgeworth frowned disapprovingly. "I'm sure that's cheating, Ms. Fey."

"That's 'Ace Elvis Impersonator' Fey to you!"
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by Acid Rain »

Spoiler : Ohm my God. :
Ferdielance wrote:It takes two Faradays' worth of charge for one mole copper to deposit a plate.
Is this...is this an electroplating joke? Please tell me this is a real, demonstrable equation.
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by Ferdielance »

Spoiler : Chemical details :
Yes, it is!

Dissolved copper is generally "missing" two electrons per ion. You therefore need 2 moles of electrons to turn each mole of dissolved copper into neutral metal. The term for the charge on a mole of electrons is a Faraday.

Now, you might ask: How can we assume that charge? What about the possibility that we're dealing with a mole of Copper (I)?

But that is not the case here. Lang is a copper, and therefore Shih-Na is a copper too.
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
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Acid Rain
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by Acid Rain »

Spoiler : :
Ferdielance wrote:Yes, it is!

Dissolved copper is generally "missing" two electrons per ion. You therefore need 2 moles of electrons to turn each mole of dissolved copper into neutral metal. The term for the charge on a mole of electrons is a Faraday.

Now, you might ask: How can we assume that charge? What about the possibility that we're dealing with a mole of Copper (I)?

But that is not the case here. Lang is a copper, and therefore Shih-Na is a copper too.
I--
You--
Am I following a script here?? Did you plan this?!
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Ferdielance
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Re: Ferdie's Microfanfiction [Fanfics]

Post by Ferdielance »

Opening post updated with more fics. These are all between 4 and 6 years old, so the writing's less polished than usual. Or maybe more polished, seeing as my skill may have actually decreased over time. Either way!
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
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