55

Chef PeePee couldn't sit still. Back and forth, back and forth, is how he paced around in his cell while fidgeting with his hands. He occasionally picked at his mustache and his hair. He didn't even have his chef's hat on him. Could he even call himself 'Chef PeePee' without his hat or uniform? He didn't even have time to worry about that at the moment. It was 9pm. Court would be in 12 hours.

Even with all the preparation he did, he still didn't think he was even close to ready. All the worst scenarios circulated around his mind like a kid on a carousel. He was trying very hard not to hyperventilate, but it was getting harder by the moment. Sitting down wasn't doing anything, he had to keep moving or else he'd feel like he was trapped.

A tap on the bars of his cell snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Brooklyn Guy out of his cop uniform looking back at him. "Hey, PeePee." He said.

"Uh, hi?" Chef PeePee replied, not having a clue on what else to say.

"I uh... well, I overheard your conversation with Marvin earlier. And... I just wanted to say, if you don't have a lawyer yet... I'm available." Brooklyn said awkwardly.

Chef PeePee gasped, his eyes widening in shock and happiness. "Really?! W-why?! I mean, thank you, but why are you just deciding this now?" He rambled.

"Well... I had heard everything from my buddy Simmons's perspective at first, and since we're close I didn't want to believe you and go against my personal bias. But Marvin going against his, and coming here to talk to you, and me basically being forced to listen... It kinda made me realize some stuff." Brooklyn explained. "I talked to my wife about it, and she said I should help you out, so... Tell me everything I need to know."

"Alright, but wait. I don't really have anything to pay you with. Are you going to put me on a plan, or..." The chef questioned.

"Don't worry about it, I'll do it as a favor. That kid can be an asshole, but no one deserves to live in an abusive household with no way out." Brooklyn said. "Now, I need all the info you can give me so we'll have the best chance we can at winning this thing."

Chef PeePee smiled, before nodding. "Yes, of course. Thank you so much."

Chef PeePee info-dumped every single piece of dirt and every single fact he could about Bowser, Junior, himself, and the rest of the household. Brooklyn listened alertly and even took notes on it for later. He knew he was going to make Karen worried by staying late at work, but he knew she'd understand. The more he listened, the more disgusted he felt for not only believing Bowser at first, but also thinking nothing of the previous calls he'd gotten from that house.

Once Chef PeePee had gotten done rambling, Brooklyn saw him in a completely different light. He wasn't just some cranky chef who showed him where things were downstairs and called him for stupid things, he was a fighter. He was smarter and braver than Brooklyn had most likely ever been. It was nearly 11:30 by the time Brooklyn Guy bid the chef farewell. The chef fell asleep, still very uneasy, but at least a little bit less stressed than he had been before.

He was as ready as he could ever be.