The Curiously Curious Case of the Missing Sloth
Jan 26, 2021 22:04:29 GMT -5
Dave D-Flipz, Justin, and 4 more like this
Post by The Colossus on Jan 26, 2021 22:04:29 GMT -5
The Judge sat at the dias and viewed the scene spread before him. He looked at his documents.
“Mr. Wasp?”
The Red Wasp, who was wearing his mask, and a suit so straight out of the nineteen-eighties, one might forgive you for thinking he came out of a time machine. You’d think wearing a mask might hide the several days of stubble from an “overnight” drunk that had lasted seven days. But you’d be wrong. It’s not visible, but the smell of cheap cologne is wafting across the United States and triggering all manner of weather warning.
“Uh. Yes!” The Wasp announced loudly, jumping to his feet and..
… just
.. barely
... keeping his balance.
“Approach.”
You might recognize his paralegal, MECHA-HARAMBE, who likewise is still masked, and wearing a suit that mostly is buttoned up and containing his barrel chest. Also seated in the general vicinity of the table, was Scott Steel, who for what can best be described as REASONS is also wearing a mask, and several ties around his “neck”, and his wrestling gear. Angus, who managed to dress in such a way today that said “I can’t even.” “I CAN’T FUCKING EVEN.” Looks both immensely worn out, but also nervous about the future outcome.
Scott Steel has an opossum on his shoulders as well. A live opossum. In a court. Of law.
The Red Wasp ambled up to the Judge, who winced visibly.
“What is this charade, exactly?”
The judge motioned to the defense table, Angus facepalmed.
“Well.. uh... Your. honor?”
“Are you even a lawyer in this state?
… OR ANY STATE?”
This was said loud enough that the prosecution, your normal set of suits with high and tight haircuts and weekend triathlon bodies chuckled.
“Crescent City Community College Night Correspondence! Licensed by the bar in this fine state!”
Wasp seemed proud of this. Angus knew why Scott had chosen this... person as his lawyer, he said he could get Scott off on the trespassing and theft of a certain sloth. He knew because he had badly botched the case earlier this year in such a way that he lost his P.I. License, been sued by the Zoo, declared bankruptcy at his lawsuit hearing, and entered the prestigious CCCCNC Law program, graduating dead last in his class.
What the man lacked in skills, he certainly made up for in senseless alcoholism.
The Zoo hadn’t even been interested in pressing charges, they wanted the Sloth back. They had video footage(what hadn’t been lost by the Wasp at least.). So Scott had started wearing a mask. Reasoning, If they didn’t know who he was, they couldn’t arrest him, try him, and put him in the hoosgow. Angus tried to point out things like logic, Scott stared stoically into the distance, obviously ignoring him, Angus had just stopped mid-sentence.
“And the mask, Mr. Wasp?”
“Oh, well I wear a mask professionally. I wouldn’t want my IDENTITY revealed!”
Attempting a superhero flourish, he instead in the depths of a raging hangover, ended up ass over tea kettle. Suit intact, however. Don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Regaining his feet with a level of grace that only the recently drunk have, he made his way back to the judge, who was no selling the whole scene.
“And him?”
“My paralegal for the same…”
“NO, YOUR CLIENT.”
“Oh. Oh. Uh, I’m unsure your honor?”
The Wasp looked hazily back at Steel, who nodded solemnly in his direction, stood and started clapping robustly, MECHA-HARAMBE followed suit. Angus needed coffee.
The Gavel somehow worked to silence the two men. The Wasp bowed and turned back to the judge. Who was not amuse.
“Are you aware under state code…”
The Wasp kind of drifted off, the lingering effects of the drunk wearing off, and a piercing and bright noise. He was nodding.
“MR. WASP!”
Back to reality.
“Of course your honor.”
A few errant coughs in the courtroom. Angus stood up, the Bailiff made ready to tackle him, Angus tutted him down with his hands.
“She asked if you were aware you need to recuse yourself because of your conflict of interest.”
The Wasp rubbed the chin of his mask and considered this.
“What does that mean?”
The Judge was turning several shades of red, growing towards purple.
“If this WASN’T just a bond hearing. I would hold the lot of you, the clowns, and that responsible one there in CONTEMPT!”
The Wasp shrugs.
Angus facepalms again.
“Bail is set at one-hundred dollars.”
The Wasp eyes shoot wide.
“I can’t afford that!”
The Judge rubbed his temples.
“You don’t pay it, your client does.”
More exasperated sighs from the adults in the room. The suits took this time to object.
“Scott Steel is a flight risk. We ask for no bail.”
Shaking his head the judge struck his gavel, making the bail set.
“While I appreciate the point of view, I do not believe Mr. Steel has the wherewithal to flee permanently. He doesn’t even know that a mask doesn’t hide his particular identity.”
Later, out in the hallway, the Wasp and Steel shook hands. Angus had tried engaging with MECHA-HARAMBE in small talk, discovering the man spoke literally no English, thought better of it.
“Well, I think that went pretty well.”
Angus had seen enough, Dane didn’t care how it got sorted out mind you, He needed Steel in NPW to make sure that Mack, Lord Dominicus, and Alex Turner were flattened into hammered shit, his words, not Angus’. He needed to talk to Eric, and try and get him competent legal representation. The thought of the Syndicate’s muscle being defended by a drunk, who he was pretty certain he had seen sleeping in the park across the street in the same suit, and a man who spoke no English did not settle Angus’ nerves. That Scott and Jesse had been steamrolling the Tag Team Division and the Syndicate had decided to grow the targets on their backs, had done nothing to settle them as well.
And if that goddamned sloth waved at him one more time.
Angus might just go Scott Steel himself.
“Mr. Wasp?”
The Red Wasp, who was wearing his mask, and a suit so straight out of the nineteen-eighties, one might forgive you for thinking he came out of a time machine. You’d think wearing a mask might hide the several days of stubble from an “overnight” drunk that had lasted seven days. But you’d be wrong. It’s not visible, but the smell of cheap cologne is wafting across the United States and triggering all manner of weather warning.
“Uh. Yes!” The Wasp announced loudly, jumping to his feet and..
… just
.. barely
... keeping his balance.
“Approach.”
You might recognize his paralegal, MECHA-HARAMBE, who likewise is still masked, and wearing a suit that mostly is buttoned up and containing his barrel chest. Also seated in the general vicinity of the table, was Scott Steel, who for what can best be described as REASONS is also wearing a mask, and several ties around his “neck”, and his wrestling gear. Angus, who managed to dress in such a way today that said “I can’t even.” “I CAN’T FUCKING EVEN.” Looks both immensely worn out, but also nervous about the future outcome.
Scott Steel has an opossum on his shoulders as well. A live opossum. In a court. Of law.
The Red Wasp ambled up to the Judge, who winced visibly.
“What is this charade, exactly?”
The judge motioned to the defense table, Angus facepalmed.
“Well.. uh... Your. honor?”
“Are you even a lawyer in this state?
… OR ANY STATE?”
This was said loud enough that the prosecution, your normal set of suits with high and tight haircuts and weekend triathlon bodies chuckled.
“Crescent City Community College Night Correspondence! Licensed by the bar in this fine state!”
Wasp seemed proud of this. Angus knew why Scott had chosen this... person as his lawyer, he said he could get Scott off on the trespassing and theft of a certain sloth. He knew because he had badly botched the case earlier this year in such a way that he lost his P.I. License, been sued by the Zoo, declared bankruptcy at his lawsuit hearing, and entered the prestigious CCCCNC Law program, graduating dead last in his class.
What the man lacked in skills, he certainly made up for in senseless alcoholism.
The Zoo hadn’t even been interested in pressing charges, they wanted the Sloth back. They had video footage(what hadn’t been lost by the Wasp at least.). So Scott had started wearing a mask. Reasoning, If they didn’t know who he was, they couldn’t arrest him, try him, and put him in the hoosgow. Angus tried to point out things like logic, Scott stared stoically into the distance, obviously ignoring him, Angus had just stopped mid-sentence.
“And the mask, Mr. Wasp?”
“Oh, well I wear a mask professionally. I wouldn’t want my IDENTITY revealed!”
Attempting a superhero flourish, he instead in the depths of a raging hangover, ended up ass over tea kettle. Suit intact, however. Don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Regaining his feet with a level of grace that only the recently drunk have, he made his way back to the judge, who was no selling the whole scene.
“And him?”
“My paralegal for the same…”
“NO, YOUR CLIENT.”
“Oh. Oh. Uh, I’m unsure your honor?”
The Wasp looked hazily back at Steel, who nodded solemnly in his direction, stood and started clapping robustly, MECHA-HARAMBE followed suit. Angus needed coffee.
The Gavel somehow worked to silence the two men. The Wasp bowed and turned back to the judge. Who was not amuse.
“Are you aware under state code…”
The Wasp kind of drifted off, the lingering effects of the drunk wearing off, and a piercing and bright noise. He was nodding.
“MR. WASP!”
Back to reality.
“Of course your honor.”
A few errant coughs in the courtroom. Angus stood up, the Bailiff made ready to tackle him, Angus tutted him down with his hands.
“She asked if you were aware you need to recuse yourself because of your conflict of interest.”
The Wasp rubbed the chin of his mask and considered this.
“What does that mean?”
The Judge was turning several shades of red, growing towards purple.
“If this WASN’T just a bond hearing. I would hold the lot of you, the clowns, and that responsible one there in CONTEMPT!”
The Wasp shrugs.
Angus facepalms again.
“Bail is set at one-hundred dollars.”
The Wasp eyes shoot wide.
“I can’t afford that!”
The Judge rubbed his temples.
“You don’t pay it, your client does.”
More exasperated sighs from the adults in the room. The suits took this time to object.
“Scott Steel is a flight risk. We ask for no bail.”
Shaking his head the judge struck his gavel, making the bail set.
“While I appreciate the point of view, I do not believe Mr. Steel has the wherewithal to flee permanently. He doesn’t even know that a mask doesn’t hide his particular identity.”
Later, out in the hallway, the Wasp and Steel shook hands. Angus had tried engaging with MECHA-HARAMBE in small talk, discovering the man spoke literally no English, thought better of it.
“Well, I think that went pretty well.”
Angus had seen enough, Dane didn’t care how it got sorted out mind you, He needed Steel in NPW to make sure that Mack, Lord Dominicus, and Alex Turner were flattened into hammered shit, his words, not Angus’. He needed to talk to Eric, and try and get him competent legal representation. The thought of the Syndicate’s muscle being defended by a drunk, who he was pretty certain he had seen sleeping in the park across the street in the same suit, and a man who spoke no English did not settle Angus’ nerves. That Scott and Jesse had been steamrolling the Tag Team Division and the Syndicate had decided to grow the targets on their backs, had done nothing to settle them as well.
And if that goddamned sloth waved at him one more time.
Angus might just go Scott Steel himself.