He seems to have coated them in a flame retardant substance.
But were you expecting anything less? Thankfully, they aren't immune to being thrown in the blazing fire of your building's furnace.
§
Dom reports to you that a couple suits are at the door.
I will wait for them in conference room with Ringo devoid of weapons. When they enter, I will say, "Gentlemen. I've been expecting you. How may I be of service?"
"This is Agent Orange and I'm Special Agent Noone. In the course of our investigation we have determined that you are a prime suspect. We will be detaining you until your court hearing."
Ringo responds, "I'm sorry, gentlemen. This building is not under your jurisdiction. This man is the diplomatic ambassador of another planet, and until we have a lawyer down here to talk business sensibly, I'm afraid you can't take him anywhere. You're dismissed."
The two agents don't seem to know what to say.
"Oh, yes; if you would be so kind as to send Joseph Merann, it would be my client's honor and priviledge to work with him; our assumption being that as you had wanted to make him Pharaoh's lawyer, he must be an extremely capable man. We will not work with any less."
The agents are bright red with anger, but they turn and walk out.
"Damn. You ARE good, Ringo!! You mean to tell me they might be aware of versers? Perhaps you could give me a brief history lesson of this world?"
"Nope, not versers; but the law does provide diplomatic immunity for alien diplomats to the country when they're in their embassy. Essentially I have declared this building part of the nation of Kaiser Sozei, of which Pharaoh is the supreme ruler. That will keep them from imprisoning you until you're charged. The history is very similar to the history of many earths with some subtle differences."
"Brilliant!. Well, let me know. In the meantime, I think I'll go to the target range with Dawn and take some shooting lessons from her."
I'll ask Dawn if she'd like to give me shooting lessons, while we wait for their next move.
She agrees. She loves spending time with you, even if she isn't the best teacher.
§
The next day, Joe Merann comes to visit you. He's as disorderly as ever. He sits down and lays out all the state's evidence against you.
Ringo says to him, "Let's make a deal."
Joe answers, "um, but, um,"
Ringo interrupts him, smelling blood in the water. "You want to go to court? Look at it this way; would you rather be the prosecutor who put Pharaoh away on a deal, or the bum on the street who was a lawyer once?"
Joe responds, "Um, no, uh,"
Ringo finishes, "15 years probation."
Joe says, "No. No, your client killed hundreds of people! If we're making a deal, it's got to be life in prison for each of them!"
Ringo sighs, and says, "I guess we'll have to go to court after all."
Joe says, "Don't be ridiculous! You haven't even remotely made a offer! ... 60 years for each count of murder and we'll throw out the other charges. And he serves for each of the counts seperately."
"Concurrently, and it's a deal."
They shake hands (Ringo is wearing a latex glove) and hash out the paperwork.
Joe leaves looking like he accomplished something.
Ringo removes his glove and tells you, "Well, that was easy."
60 years. Alot better than I figured.
"Man, that cat reminds me of somebody from my past. But that's not here nor there. Well done, Ringo! Whatever I'm paying you, double it!"
I'll send word quietly to the others. Then I guess it's just a matter of waiting for court.
"Great, so now I'm making... let's see... carry the four... absolutely nothing!"
It takes another week before you receive notice; court is one week after that.
I'll just train while waiting.
The day comes when you are to be in court.
Let me guess, jeans, a t shirt, sunglasses, and a hat.
The judge calls to order, the prosecution presents their deal, and the judge asks you if you understand.
You got the wardrobe dead on.
"Yes, your honor. I completely understand. 60 years flat."
The judge thinks for a moment, looking severe, then says, "I suspect some sort of foul play here, but my hands are tied." Ringo passes you a note; it reads, "Small differences."
The judge orders the plea bargain into effect, and you're led from the room. The police don't handcuff you, but they put you in the back of a squad car and start to drive.
Any actions at this point?
I'll give Ringo a questioning look, as if to say, "What's that supposed to mean?"
No. I can't really think of any actions, right now. Guess I'll just wait to be processed at prison, meet my cellmate (if any.), and wait to begin a 60 year stretch.
They put you in population with several other guys; the clothes they provide are are very dark brown; probably to conceal the blood stains.
One of the guys here takes you under his wing as soon as you get here; he looks vaguely familiar and tells you his name is Cedric. He tells you who all the other people here are; "Let's see, there's, Dougie Formage, he's the low man on the totem pole, we all call him Suxdixfertreis. And Nickels Baldwig, over there with him, that's the only guy who'll talk to'm; they both get a beatdown at least once a week. They're both lifers, Nickels for drugs and Dougie for three strikes on ag stat rape.
"We got Tiny over here for fraud and murder," everyone says "Murdah!", and he continues, "and Old Bill the Texan over there for killin his fifth wife. The three over there playin cards are Ky, Camron, and Miguel. They do tha pretty much all day, but they pretty much always have cigarettes and herb, so they're good."
"Thanks for the 411. Let me ask you something. Who's the guy in here everyone is afraid of?"
Cedric laughs, and responds, "You, man. You think we don't watch the news?"
"Ok. Next question. Who has the most resources. I'm sure you know what I mean by that. Who's the man to go to around here?"
"Well, between the three of them, Ky, Camron, and Miguel can get pretty much anything they want around here; cigarettes and herb aren't really easy to come by around here, so as far as pecking order goes, they're usually right at the top."
A guy comes out from one of the cells. "Hey guys, look, it's that guy from TV!"
Most people ignore him, but Nickels says, "He has a name. Faro."
"Yeah, Faro! Hi! I'm Trib!"
Cedric says to you, "Just ignore him, hopefully he'll lose interest."
*Sigh*. It never ends. Perhaps I shouild have taken trial by fire.
"Pardon me a moment, Ced."
I'll walk over to Trib and punch him dead in the face.
How hard are we talking?
Knock him out?
Mess his teeth up more than they already are?
Or dead?
Just knock him out, but hard enough to send him flying a few feet. Last thing I need is another murder charge.
Trib is now sleeping on the ground with a large bump quickly swelling his eye shut.
I'll look at his unconcious body and say, "Have an autograph."
I'll look back a Cedric. "Now, where were we? Ah yes. The go to guys. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to introduce me? They will definitely be of use to me in here. By the way, anyone messes with you, just let me know. I'll give then an autograph."
Cedric grins, and answers you, "I was the scary guy before you came. I can handle myself against these guys."
He introduces you as Pharaoh to the three guys playing cards. They acknowledge you, deep in their game of three man spades.
The one named Ky looks vaguely familiar; but it's been a very long time since you last saw the nine year old version of the man sitting here.
I don't think I will look familiar in my present appearance, so I'll let it lie.
Gentlemen. It's come to my attention that if a man in here needs anything, you're the people to talk to. If you could procure herb for me, I would consider it a great boon. Just let me know what you want for it, and I'll make it happen. Keep me in the loop. And tell numbnuts over there when he wakes up, that speaking to me unsolicited about nothing important, is foolish and costly. Where's the weight room around here?"
They think what you did to Trib is funny, and invite you to join them for cards. They don't ask for anything; Ky tells you, "We don't bogart, man."
They tell you that they're allowed to go to the weight room on Wednesdays and Mondays.
I'll sit and join them.
They redeal for a game of four man spades.
The boldness with which they sit here smoking their cigarettes and pot is respectable.
Dougie Formage comes over and asks if he can get in on the rotation.
"Doug," Ky responds to him in annoyance, then takes a long pull and mostly holds it in, saying, "In order to smoke this, you must unsuck that which you have sucked."
"Wuuuut?" Doug asks in confusion.
Wothout looking at Doug. "You want a hit? I can arrange that."
"Yeah, man, let me hit that," Dougie answers. His teeth; I don't need to say more, do I?
He's so slow it's almost a pity.
I'll stand up, grab the back of his head and slam it into the table, hopefull enough to knock his teeth out.
Smash! And Dougie Fresh goes down like a drunk prom date!
There's blood pouring out of his mouth and nose, and he doesn't look conscious.
Three large corrections officers enter the room, and ask you to come with them.
"You gentlemen forgot to say the magic word."
Two look confused, and the third says, "Please, come with us, Pharaoh."
"Much better, Manners count, even in here."
I will get up and go with the 3 guards.
They take you to a large private cell, complete with wall-to-wall carpeting, window overlooking a decent sized garden with a pond in it, bookshelf with several books, exercise machine, king-size bed, fully stocked kitchen and pantry.
They tell you the warden will be in to talk to you soon.
I'm assuming this is Rinog's handy work. But it should make my time more pleasant in here. Either that or it must be a reward for busting up Trib and Doug. Lol!
Guess, I'll work out, shower and wait for the warden.
The Warden takes his sweet time coming in. When he does, he's accompanied by four thugs, er, corrections officers, that is.
"I'm the final say so in this place. If you don't like it, tough. You're no different than the others here, scumbag, no matter how tough you think you are."
"With all do respect, warden. You're beginning to bore the hell out of me. And for the record, I am FAR different from anyone in here I can assure you. Now, don't go away mad, just go away. You're dismissed warden. Or do you want an autograph?"