dizzy_land | Application for Miles Edgeworth (Reply)

This, thought Edgeworth, was distinctly impossible. That, or LAX has changed a great deal since he had last been there and the advances in animatronics in the past few years had been astounding. Believing this explanation made as much sense as believing that he really was speaking to anthropomorphic mouse and cat and so he did not. However, whether or not this explanation was logical, the cat and mouse persisted, and Disneyland refuse to turn into an airport. Ah well. Logic, Edgeworth had found, was often wrong.

Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

“Miles Edgeworth” he paused for a moment. Who knew? Imaginary mice must have interesting crimes. “Esq. My card.” He handed Mickey an elegant white business card.

"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.

“My quest? A simple but complicated question, indeed.” He sighed. “Perhaps my quest is justice, or at least truth.”

"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"

“I can see no reason why someone would offer to grant me three wishes. Doubtless, there is a catch of some sort. I would not accept such an offer. However,” he conceded, “if I were sure of the offer’s validity, for example if I had a contract to look over, then, as a member of the human race, I would of course wish for more wishes.”

"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?" Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"

“Lawyers,” said Edgeworth smiling sarcastically, “rarely fair well in such revolutions.”

The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"

“Dark, of course. The question need not even be asked.”

"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"

“Robots,” he begins solemnly, “are of immense value but little interest, and as such I would not describe them as ‘cool,’ although I assume you do not mean the type that build cars. Pirates were thieves and murderers, foolishly romanticized into being portrayed as entertaining and child-friendly. A fairy is another romanticized concept, beginning as a primarily negative spirit, ranging from simply mischievous to malicious. Bears are of little interest. Ninjas were simply assassins. Monkeys are as uninteresting as bears. A vampire is fictional creature from horror stories, and as such I see no reason why they would be included in this absurd list. Humans fit into both the dangerous and dull categories. And so,” he says finally, “I must choose ‘none of the above.”

"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"

“At the moment, no. I generally carry a knife on my person, but it is currently in my luggage.”

((Edgeworth is taken from right after the last case of Trials and Tribulations.))