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RASSPLOSION: Blame it on the weatherman
Jan. 5th, 2007 09:18 amIt starts out like any normal day for Phoenix Wright -- wake up, cup of coffee, brush teeth, take a shower. That sort of thing. When he steps out of his apartment his coat is on. Los Angeles in the winter rarely gets extremely cold, but on lower temperature days like today it never hurts to keep a jacket on.
He heads out of his own portal, emerging in the familiar yet oddly incongruous apartment complex he used to refer to more as home. He heads downstairs and opens the door, ready to greet yet another (probably uneventful) work day...
...and staggers back, shutting the door as the sweltering heat hits him.
He blinks. Yes, Los Angeles is hardly the midwest when it comes to matters of cold, but it shouldn't be THIS hot. Global warming hasn't gotten THAT bad, has it?
He removes his coat and walks out again, tolerating the heat a little better. Balancing briefcase and coat, he shuts the door, looking around. People are wearing shorts and sunglasses as if this is the most normal thing to happen in the winter ever, which only further serves to confuse our young lawyer. Of course, he tends to be confused easily.
He walks over to a newstand, hoping to see if any news has come out about this heat wave. He tries to converse lightly with the newstand operator, but it seems English is not his first language, and so the most Phoenix can get is a little bit of "Hi, how are you, 75 cents please," that sort of stuff.
He flips through, looking for something about a heatwave, but the newspaper seems just as oblivious as the crowd of teen girls passing by in bikinis and sarongs. It doesn't really make any sense at all...
...until his eyes brush past the date of the newspaper. June 1, 2017
2017. As in LAST year.
He stares flabbergasted at the paper for a minute, then blurts out the only thing that comes to mind.
"Fucking NEXUS!"
A few people stare at him in bewilderment as he dashes back to his apartment complex, hoping to get some answers to this bullshit.
He heads out of his own portal, emerging in the familiar yet oddly incongruous apartment complex he used to refer to more as home. He heads downstairs and opens the door, ready to greet yet another (probably uneventful) work day...
...and staggers back, shutting the door as the sweltering heat hits him.
He blinks. Yes, Los Angeles is hardly the midwest when it comes to matters of cold, but it shouldn't be THIS hot. Global warming hasn't gotten THAT bad, has it?
He removes his coat and walks out again, tolerating the heat a little better. Balancing briefcase and coat, he shuts the door, looking around. People are wearing shorts and sunglasses as if this is the most normal thing to happen in the winter ever, which only further serves to confuse our young lawyer. Of course, he tends to be confused easily.
He walks over to a newstand, hoping to see if any news has come out about this heat wave. He tries to converse lightly with the newstand operator, but it seems English is not his first language, and so the most Phoenix can get is a little bit of "Hi, how are you, 75 cents please," that sort of stuff.
He flips through, looking for something about a heatwave, but the newspaper seems just as oblivious as the crowd of teen girls passing by in bikinis and sarongs. It doesn't really make any sense at all...
...until his eyes brush past the date of the newspaper. June 1, 2017
2017. As in LAST year.
He stares flabbergasted at the paper for a minute, then blurts out the only thing that comes to mind.
"Fucking NEXUS!"
A few people stare at him in bewilderment as he dashes back to his apartment complex, hoping to get some answers to this bullshit.
