Work Text:
manfred von karma had a problem.
he had been fired from his job as a janitor for cleaning things he was not supposed to (namely, the ceilings, underneath the shelves, the cashier's shoes, and at one point customers at the store). so, trying to reverse his usual bad mood, he had decided to take a visit to the prosecutors' office. it would be a nice trip down memory lane, and might make him feel like he was a cool prosecuting attorney with years of unchallenged experience again.
here is where the problem started.
manfred von karma did not want anybody at his prior workplace to comment on his absence. so he had needed to concoct a scheme that would get him into his old office without being detected. the plan went, basically, like this:
drive to office --> sneak through the vents --> drop down into correct room --> nostalgia --> leave same way --> feel better?
he had gotten to the "sneaking through the vents" part when things went wrong.
manfred von karma had brought a map of the vents, obviously. what kind of ex-prosecutor trying to break into their former place of employment does not have on hand a map of the vents. however, said vents were dusty, and he had dropped the map somewhere while he was trying to stop himself from sneezing. or he might have dropped it trying to keep all the dust off his fine clothes. either way, manfred von karma was now mapless in a place where he needed a map.
manfred von karma crawled in a straight line for a while before coming to rest above a dark room.
"my room should be dark because i am no longer occupying it," thought manfred von karma. "this must be my room."
dropping down into the room with all the grace and agility of an old person mid-sneeze, which he was, manfred von karma landed half on his elbow and half on his shin. this was slightly painful. manfred von karma suppressed a scream that might have sounded as though he had been shot in the shoulder after having been given his first penalty in 25 years had he not suppressed it.
it was dark, and manfred von karma could not see very well. however, when his eyes adjusted, he had the distinct feeling that he was not in the place that he thought he was in.
for one, there was a wall full of guitars.
and a guitar on the floor.
and a miniature guitar on the desk.
before manfred von karma could ask "what in the dickens," there was a flash of light as the lights flashed on and a scream of "JAAAAAA BABYYYYYYYYY".
manfred von karma spun around and came face to face with a blonde person dressed in a purple suit, holding what seemed to be an invisible guitar, and shouting "yes baby" in german.
being a former prosecutor of high esteem, manfred von karma used his formidable powers of logic to conclude that this was the guitar person's office.
"uh," said the guitar person.
manfred von karma blinked.
the guitar person looked up at the open vent, then down at manfred von karma. they looked back up and down again, before an expression came over their face that can be best described as ">:(".
"you broke into my office!" exclaimed the guitar person, finally.
"yes," said manfred von karma.
"wh. why," said the guitar person.
manfred von karma thought about this, and also thought about the possibility of jumping back up the vent and forgetting this ever happened. he concluded that the latter feat was improbable at best.
"because i am a sad and lonely ex-prosecutor who needs to sneeze right now," said manfred von karma. then he sneezed.
the guitar person mulled this over. "well that sounds reasonable enough," they said.
"i am manfred von karma. i mean i am not manfred von karma. manfred von karma is definitely not who i am. i am someone who is not manfred von karma," said manfred von karma, by way of introduction.
"no i know who you are, everybody knows who you are. youre pretty famous," said the guitar person. "like. if youre trying to deflect the guilt of breaking into somebodys office covered in vent dust. it's not working."
"oh," said manfred von karma.
the guitar person stuck out their hand. "anyway my name is klavier gavin. i am a prosecutor but also a rock star but also my band is about the law."
"i can respect that," replied manfred von karma, slowly pushing klavier gavin's hand away from him.
manfred von karma then had a thought.
"wait, your name was--"
"klavier gavin," said klavier gavin.
"but. your name is. piano? what. that. that does not make sense," said manfred von karma.
"i know right. everybody knows i like guitars more," replied klavier gavin.
"and-- and klavier is german. i know that because im german. i am from germany. that is my location of origin."
"yes, i am german," klavier gavin said.
manfred thought about this. "no youre not," he said.
klavier gavin fell down. "how did you know"
"because. of something," said manfred von karma. "i honestly dont know but when i saw you i thought "this person is pretending to be german for their image but in actuality is not, in fact, german."
"well i guess youre right because you knew my pronouns also without asking," said klavier gavin. "nobody else seems to get that."
"i sure did," said manfred von karma. and then they did a high-five and fistbump combination of the sort one might see teenagers do.
then klavier gavin played the air guitar for five minutes. manfred von karma was mindboggled. klavier gavin gave manfred von karma their autograph and free tickets to the new gavinners show, except it was now called just "gavinner" because klavier gavin was the only one left. manfred von karma dry-cleaned all his clothes and had to wear another set of the same exact clothes. gregory edgeworth gave manfred von karma a cup of hot chocolate. manfred von karma was still bummed out over his job situation, but he was a little less bummed out about it.
the end