Title: Godotcom
Author: My little sister. She doesn't have an account, or an intrest in anything besides Godot.
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor
Status: WIP
Summary: He just wanted a normal life.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3791525/1/Godotcom Here is the original on our joint account. It has the first five chapters on it.

Spoilers for GS1, 2, and 3.






“So what is your defense for that accusation?” the little instructor in the red velvet suit inquired.

“…”

“Sir, can you please answer the question?”

Godot was not a deaf man. And he would not be treated as such.

“I say that is complete and utter hypocrisy, considering in your previous accusation you stated he was strangled with a window cord by Evander. Now you are suggesting he was bludgeoned to death by a bystander. Make up your mind, Vernondell.”

“But…”

“Sir, there is no point in continuing this practice trial. Clearly the defense has nothing more to do than make feeble claims about how the man was murdered.” Godot stated bluntly, pushing his visor up with two fingers and a sense of finality. Vernondell turned an unpleasant shade of salmon pink and muttered incomprehensibly.

“Very well. The jury may decide. Those in favor of Mullen’s complete acquittal…”

After the practice trial, Godot left the detention center in his red Mercedes. He felt no sense of pride for winning the final exercise in prosecutor training. This was just another job well done. Done by Godot, the legendary prosecutor. The prosecutor who’d never lost a case. The prosecutor who had started prosecuting last Thursday.

As he was driving back, some elementary school age-kids playing on a playground beside the road caught his eye. He groaned, knowing full well what was coming next.

“Look, it’s MISTER GODOT! Let’s go, guys!!” The kids bent down and picked up a few stones. The lawyer jammed his foot into the pedal, but he was still not fast enough to escape the barrage of small rocks that dented and scratched the brand new car. Uttering a few choice oaths, Godot wiped his brow with his palm and took a deep breath. Someday he would get revenge on those little whelps.

After re-painting his recently abused car, the spiky haired prosecutor returned home and plopped into a chair with a mug of steaming hot coffee. As the bitter, refreshing taste of his favorite blend filled his mouth, he picked up the newspaper and began to read. He flipped through the newspaper when a huge headline caught his attention, “Orange Prices Skyrocket, John Cunningham Accused of Fraud.”

“These are difficult times…” he murmured, taking another sip of the expensive coffee with a dramatic sigh. He knew what Mia would have said at that moment and tried not to think about it too much.

That night, Godot flipped open his laptop and propped it up against his knees. He went to a search engine and, just out of a combination of boredom and curiosity, typed in “prosecutor.” Over 10,000 results came up:

“…As pure evil as a prosecutor…”

“Prosecutor Claims Mentally Impaired Defendant to be a Moron…”

“…And I said, “Your dad’s a prosecutor? No wonder you’re so…”

“When Prosecutors Attack!!!”

The exasperated man shut his laptop with perhaps more force than necessary and turned off the light. After a few minutes he drifted off into dreams full of coffee and hard cases.

And yet another lovely morning of Godot’s life began. He was prepared for the worst.

That is, there was one difference.

Was Godot prepared for the worst?

Even for a mediocre defense attorney sporting hair that greatly resembled a porcupine? No, he wasn’t. Or he wouldn’t have lost.

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Last edited by Rae08 on Fri Feb 01, 2008 7:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.

A/N: WARNING spoilers if you haven’t played Trials and Tribulations.

2. Preparation is the Key

The dismal beginning of another morning found Godot in the courtroom. His first case.

“Coffee!” he bellowed, interrupting the judge’s opening statement. A hot mug skidded across the desk. Godot stopped it neatly with one hand, and lifting the mug to his lips, slurped a bit of the beverage loudly. “Continue.”

The judge flinched and started to speak again with an oddly panicked air, as though he was expecting the fatal blow at any moment. Godot allowed himself another sip of the bitter coffee, swishing it around in his mouth and pondering the case. Had MaskDeMasque interfered with the body?

His thoughts were interrupted when the judge stuttered, “P-p-please make an o-opening statement, Mr.--um--Gobot.”

“Godot. It’s Godot, not Gobot.” This sort of thing happened a lot.

“Gobot, right.” the judge tried again.

The aforementioned prosecutor rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh of, “Never mind,” so that the ever-spastic justice cringed again.

“Coffee is like my soul, dark and bitter.”

The judge stared blankly. “That’s it?”

“Many foolish words do nothing, but a few wise words are seldom wasted.” Godot was marginally impressed with himself.

The porcupine-headed attorney was irritated. “Just start already, please.”

“A man can’t be hurried when--”

“All right, Your Honor, continue with the case, even though we know the defendant isn‘t guilty,” Pheonix said loudly. Godot was a bit miffed.

“Mr. Trite, that is a fruitless lie and you know it.”

“Mr. Trite” scowled. And so the case came off to a wonderful start.

Murphy’s Law: If anything can go wrong, it will.

The law demanded that all prosecutors lose their first case. And so it was.

Ron DeLite was declared not guilty, after somehow Mr. Trite wormed him out of both charges pressed and humiliated Godot. Wow. There were no existing words to describe the feeling he had after the case. He wished he was a defense attorney again, wished Mia was alive, wished he could just go home and drink a nice, hot cup of coffee.

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All your fancics are very very bad.
No quality,no interet.
The bests are mines,I'm the best fanfic writters,very beter at you.

*slaps*

@Rae: You don't need to put T&T spoilers in your posts when it's in the title.

And this may become a good fic in time...

no.
It's a bad fic.
The best are mines.

I don't know... I've never seen a mine hold a pencil. Have you?

@Rae's little sister: Keepy uppy! You've got potential; don't listen to the trolls. :D

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Learn some f-ing manners. And spelling, for that matter, as well as proper grammar.



Anyway, I like it. More, ne?

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