"I hereby announce the defendant, Russell D. Franco, not guilty!" An old man up front said, slamming his gavel down with his declaration. An entire courtroom gave their three-cheers for the sentence, like it was the most amazing thing in the world.
Everyone except the defendant, that is. Russell just sat down in his wooden chair, wearing a suit he'd been instructed to be put on by his lawyer.
Everything outside of the courtroom after meeting the gypsy (or whatever he wanted be called) had gone relatively normal. Russell had opted not to use his newly acquired powers for now, not wanting a guard to pass by his cell and finding that he finding him missing. Instead he chose to act like a good little inmate, waiting patiently for his trial day to arrive.
And what a day that was. Inside the courtroom was an entirely different story. People constantly grinning at him, the prosecution and defense bouncing off each other constantly like they were reading a script, and the judge just nodding along to everything. To say the man was perplexed when he had all charges dropped against him; as well as no probation period or community service required afterwards was not just baffling. It wasn't even lucky. It was completely insane!
And now there he was, outside the sixth courtroom as the guards gave him an indescribable look of... joy? "See you around." One of them said, Russell grimacing at the strange send off as he made his way to the fourth courthouse door, still dressed in his uncomfortable suit and shiny dress shoes.
He (eventually) did make it to the fourth courtroom, finding a familiar small, dinky man sitting down at a bench. His old eyes immediately locking onto Russell, flashing him a nearly toothless smile. The young man hurried over to him.
"Trial go well?" The man asked, a sly smile on his face.
Although Russell didn't give an answer. "How did you do that shit?" He asked, the question being enough of an answer for the "gypsy" who's grin nearly went to his ears.
"Friends, that's all."
This time around Russell didn't say a word, just staring at him as he casually pulled himself up from his seat and adjusted his attire. The former convict couldn't help but think that, for someone who was supposed to be in jail, the geezer was pretty nonchalant. "Alright, son. It's time for your real mission to begin."
"Real mission..." Russell repeated, rubbing his forehead. "Let me guess, it's got something to do with these powers you gave me?"
The old man nodded.
"And you'll "drag me by my underwear with some missing teeth" if I don't comply, right?"
Again, the man nodded.
Russell internally sighed. He couldn't help but think that maybe he'd be better off doing some community service instead of all this.
"Come now." The man gestured, signaling Russell to follow him.
What does the old man do?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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