Thoth Law Firm Episode 2

An Alraune was in her living room, Steppenwolf blasting. She lay in a small harem of stoned men. Various men, women, and mamono also lay scattered about in her living room. A communal lovemaking session had just ended. It was an absolutely beautiful experience, according to all involved. When the post-coital coma started wearing off, they began to stand and leave, they dropped by the Alraune to say goodbye. The Alraune plucked a leaf from her body for them to take home with them.
With a grin and a nod, they headed for home with their gifts. Eventually, the alraune was left alone in her home. Seeing no point in moving, she just flopped down onto the floor and conked out.
When she woke up, it was because a number of SWAT policemen were standing around her, pointing high-powered flashlights at her.
"Frona Jeffery, you are under arrest for narcotics distribution," one of them said to her.
"What?" Frona said.

Foster sat across from a Mothman, lecturing her quite sternly.
"Yes, I realize they are obnoxious and loud," Foster acknowledged, "But that doesn't give you the right to give them all a dose of a powerful depressant without permission. Then act surprised when this incites them into a riot. You essentially forced them all to get egregiously drunk."
"Let me ask you this, Mr. Hawking," she crossed her arms, "If a bunch of Ku Klux Klan members got drunk and ran around attempting to lynch people, would you blame the booze?"
"Miss Fey, the booze in this case was a Mothman purposely intoxicating these men, turning an originally harmless situation into a 'crusade,' as they called it," Foster explained, "To make matters worse, this wasn't even a demonstration by The Order, which might have at least given you the benefit of public opinion in your case. This was the damn renaissance fair. You attacked a peaceful reenactment of a time and place that, while a very difficult and painful time for mamono, is actually hosted by an accepting community. You didn't notice that many of those men had brought their wives and girlfriends to join in the fun? Their mamono wives and girlfriends?"
The Mothman was silent. This was the most aggressive Mothman Foster had ever met, and yet was making it difficult for him to not believe the stereotype about them being simple-minded.
"I don't know whether you mistook it for an actual gathering of neo-Paladins, or whether you disagreed with the revelry being had in reenacting a dark time in history," Foster slid his wheeled chair over to his filing cabinet, "But I'm afraid there's no angle I can work to help your case here, Miss Fey. If it makes you feel any better, the crusade did relatively little damage outside the fairgrounds, so at worst you're going to be stuck with a few weeks of community service. Also a public apology would be in order, because a lot of people lost their jobs."
The Mothman stood up with a huff, "I'll find another law firm then, I can see this one isn't up to standard!"
She stomped out, slamming the door. Foster filed her case in his quickly-growing rejection pile.
"Hawking!" Abbey shouted as she threw his door open suddenly.
Foster stood up quickly, sending his chair rolling across his office and into Akila, who had apparently snuck into his office beforehand and stood silently in the corner. Foster wanted to feel bad for hitting her with the chair, but she really needed to work on announcing her presence.
Before Foster could ask Akila how long she had been standing there, Abbey spoke up, "We've got a new employee! An intern, we pay her nothing."
Foster looked over at Abbey, she had her hands on the shoulders of a small kraken who came up to her midsection. She had bright pink hair and yellow eyes and looked to be about middle school aged.
"Oh…interesting," Foster acknowledged, "How old is she?"
"Twent--
"I don't know," Abbey cut her off, "Her name is Vivi Ottosen, and she's fresh out of law school and has already taken the bar exam in this state, she's ready and eager to get some experience under her belt."
"And I'm twen--
"You will be her mentor, Hawking," Abbey suddenly pushed the young girl forward.
Foster looked at Abbey with surprise, "What? Why me?"
"You haven't had a case in days, if you're going to be sitting around doing nothing, you might as well be teaching someone else to replace you."
"Hey, I'd have a case if you'd stop sending me people you didn't feel like telling no to," Foster pointed out, pulling his chair back over to his desk, "That Fey case was a dud and you had to know it, she didn't even have any money to pay legal fees…that's a surprisingly common occurrence with my clients."
"You're good at turning down hard work," Abbey pointed out, "Anyway, show the kraken the ways of law. Then clear out your desk."
She slammed the door behind her as she left, leaving Vivi and Akila alone with Foster.
Foster collapsed into his chair with a sigh.
"How old are you?" Foster asked again.
"I turned twe--
Foster's phone rang. He held up a finger to indicate that he needed a moment. He answered his phone.
"Foster Hawking," he greeted the person on the phone.
"Ok! I'm back from overseas!" Michelle said on the other end of the line, "Sorry about the delay, did you wait for me?"
Foster stiffened, "Oh! Michelle, I didn't check my caller id. I haven't pursued any other relationships if that's what you're asking."
"Of course that's what I'm asking!" Michelle cried, "You can try to be a little romantic about it. How about a, 'Of course I waited for you, baby!' or a 'I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole time you were away!'"
"Throwing up some red flags, Michelle," Foster said casually as he wrote something down on a sheet of paper.
"Yeah, waiting outside your office by your car wasn't a good enough clue," she pointed out, "So, about that date…"
"Sure…where would you like to go?" Foster finished writing on the paper and held it up to Vivi to read. It said 'Coffee, two creamers, three sugars.'
Vivi tilted her head at him.
"Well, where would you like to go? When are you next available?" Michelle asked.
"Right after work…I clock out in, uh…" he checked his watch, "Two hours."
Foster shooed Vivi away to get his coffee. Vivi continued to look at him with a blank expression. He slammed a palm on his desk. It spooked Vivi and she turned away to run. She ran into his door, busting her nose. She yelped and clutched at her face. She opened the door and waddled out with shame.
"What was that?" Michelle asked.
"I dropped a paperweight."
"How about that new horror movie in theaters?"
"I don't keep up with movies, which one are you talking about?"
Vivi came back in with some coffee in a styrofoam cup. She placed it on Foster's desk, with two creamers and three packs of sugar. Well, she knew how to count.
"It's an installment in a long-running series," Michelle explained, "If you haven't seen the other two, I've got them at home, if you wan--are you drinking coffee?"
Foster had been in the middle of pouring some creamer into the brew, "Err, well, no, not yet. I just got some."
"French roast, brewed five hours ago," she stated matter-of-factly.
Foster glanced around, "Are you…here?"
"No, I just have a sixth sense for coffee…"
"That's weird…"
"Hawking!" Abbey shouted as she swung his door open, "Are you taking a personal call?!"
Foster spoke quickly, "I'll call you back."
He hung up and pocketed the phone, "Yes."
"You ''are'' taking a personal call?!" she demanded.
"Yes, I said yes," Foster repeated.
"Oh…" Abbey expected him to be more artful, "Well…you know, knock that shit off. You have a case."
She holds up a file, dropping it unceremoniously on his desk. Foster sighed and flipped it open, "Is this one for real, or are you sending them to me for rejection again…"
He read the main details of the case, "Oh my, over fifty pounds of confiscated narcotics! Cut and dry, pun intended. This is going to be a snap."
"Not at all," Abbey corrected him, "You're defending."
Foster slammed the file closed, "Abasi, come on…"
"Yeah yeah, you seem to work well with plants," Abasi pointed out, "So you're going to defend the alraune. She's paying absolute top-dollar for our services."
"Great…" Foster sighed.
"It'll be an opportunity to show the intern the ropes, the ups and down, the ins and outs," Abasi chuckled to herself lewdly, before straightening out, "Sorry, that was out of line. I do not condone interoffice relationships. Defend the Alraune, Hawking."
She turned walked out of Foster's office. Akila attempted to follow her, but got the door slammed in her face. Foster grasped his forehead in stress.
"I didn't get it," Vivi finally spoke uninterrupted, "Why did she start talking about interoffice relationships?"
"Huh?" Foster looked at the short kraken, "Oh, uh. She got carried away with a pun, that's all…"
There was an awkward pause.
"Who was it on the phone?" the girl asked.
"Oh, uh…another lawyer, weresheep," Foster answered, "She's interested in dating…but she works for a different company. It's not interoffice."
"I should go in and speak to my client…" Foster flopped his briefcase open on his desk, throwing Frona's file into it, "Get her side of the story before we go before a judge."
"Should I come along?"
"Well, I'm going to get chewed out if I don't, so yeah…can you drive?"
"No, I took a bus here."
"Seriously? Dammit, I was hoping to go over the case notes on the way there…"
"Oh-oh! I can read them! I'll read them to you!" she offered excitedly.
"Sure, why not?"

Foster stepped out of his vehicle, slamming the door very forcefully behind him. He straightened his tie and cufflinks. He actually exited out of the back seat.
Vivi stepped out of the passenger side. Actually, it was more like a tumble. She tumbled out of the car, covered in inky vomit. She turned around and pulled the briefcase out of the passenger seat. It was also full of puke.
Foster held up his keys and remotely locked the doors of his car, "Close your door, Vivi."
Vivi closed the door with some difficulty, doubling over and dry-heaving a bit.
"You'll be paying to have the interior of my car cleaned, and my suit dry-cleaned," Foster told her curtly, "Consider it payment for your first lesson: Always keep a spare suit in your car."
"Do you th--
She dry heaved.
"Do you think you can show me how to change suits in the backseat of a car and have it not wrinkle?" she asked politely.
Foster glared at her, looking at the interior of his car, then back at her. He sighed, "How about no?"
Foster took his briefcase from her, it leaked fluid. He cleared his throat and proceeded into the police station. Vivi quickly waddled up after him, "I'm sorry…I've never heard of people getting sick from reading in cars…"
"It's fine," Foster lied.
"I mean, I've never really ridden a car before today."
"What?" Foster looked at her, opening the door to the police station, "How did you get through law school?"
"Umm…private tutor, he came to us," she explained while rubbing her arm guiltily.
Foster stepped inside the station without a word.
A harpy police officer sat behind the reception desk. She regarded Foster, "Attorney?"
"You got it," Foster confirmed.
"Frona Jeffery?"
"That's the one."
The harpy waved a wing at another officer, a jinko. She guided the two to the holding cell. The prisoners lay around the alraune, stoned. Foster was immediately hit with a wave of smell.
"Ugh, that's dank…" he groaned.
The prisoners all began laughing simultaneously at him. He was not sure why. The alraune was 'uprooted' and was sitting in the middle of the prisoners. Her skin was green, but her hair and eyes were purple.
He stuck a finger out at the alraune, "Are you Frona Jeffery?"
"Yeah, buddy," she said with a sleepy look in her eye, "Are you my lawyer? Chocolate Frosting?"
"Hawker Fosting," Foster shook his head, "Foster Hawking…"
"Yeah, you came to get me out of here, yeah??" she nodded at him.
"It's not that simple," Foster corrected her, "We can post bail, we offer that service. But I'm mostly here to discuss your case."
"Hey man, I don't wanna stress the details, I just want to go home and put this all behind me," she held up her hands dismissively at him.
Foster sighed turned to Vivi, "I'm going to call the office and get her bail money, you go ask how much bail we need…"
Vivi nodded and slithered off. Foster got on the phone.

Abbey spoke with another client, "Not at all, we're definitely on top of that. She's just on some PTO is all…"
The phone rang, a direct line from Foster.
She muted herself, "Akila! Hawking's on the other line, see what he wants…"
Akila stood and nodded. She picked up a secondary phone, "Hello, Akila here."
"Hey, we need bail money. Miss Jeffery refuses to speak without bail…" Foster said.
"What's the total?" Akila shouldered the phone and pulled out a sticky note and pen.
"Vivi! How much did th--what?! Are they insane…" Foster went mute.
Akila glanced around nervously with her exposed eye, "F-Foster?"
Foster unmuted, "Yeah, Akila…it's a quarter-mill."
"Thank you for calling Thoth Law Firm," Akila hung up quickly. She stood there for a few seconds, stressed. She sighed and wrote down the bail amount, she turned and held it up for Abasi to see.
"Absolutely we can get someone else to take…a…look…" her sentence slowed to a halt when she saw Akila's sticky note.
Akila got the phone thrown directly at her skull, she squealed and clutched at her head.

Foster lowered the phone, "Dammit…"
He turned to Frona, "Yeah, I can't get you the bail money, sorry…"
"Naw, man, that's, like, your job or something, right?" she protested.
"No, my job is to get you cleared of charges…we don't need bail money to do that," Foster explained, "Listen, just give me your side of the story, and I'll try to help you out the best I can."
"I ain't saying a word to the feds until I'm out of here," she crossed her arms and turned up her nose.
Foster exhaled loudly with irritation, "I'm not a fed, I'm your damn lawyer…"
He got a text, "Bail bondsman wants double normal rate and you're cleared to charge it."
Foster sighed, "Can you muster fifty-thousand dollars?"
"What? I thought you paid for it," Frona looked at him with frustration.
"Listen here, we're paying 80% of it, you pay 50K, and we'll cover the rest…"
"Alright, fine, do they take credit cards? Checks?" Frona pulls a wallet from her pants, which hung loosely from her hips.
"Y-you have that much money just lying around?" he asked her.
"Well, duh," she giggled at him, "I've been saving up in case something like this happened…"
"So, you knew this was going to happen?" Foster asked, "Well, at least you have that much foresight."

Foster pulled into Jeffery's driveway.
Vivi and Frona both sat in the back, nobody opting to sit in the ink-smeared passenger seat. The pheromones Frona had released passively and slowly intoxicated the others in the car. Foster stepped out of the car.
"And then she said that I wasn't strong enough," Foster continued to tell the story he started in the car. That is to say, he started several stories, he did not finish any of them. Except one, the one about how hungry he was.
Vivi and Frona stepped out of the car, carrying large plastic bags full of tacos, burgers, and french fries. They could not decide which they wanted, so they stopped by two different fast-food chains. Foster did not protest. He insisted.
"And I told her, of course I'm not physically fit, I'm a lawyer," Foster shouted, leaning into his car and pulled out the six different soft drinks, "I'm a modern man, with modern ideals. I don't physically train as a lifestyle like the olden days. And ''no,'' I will not physically fight you before sex. No, I will not exchange insurance before sex. No, I will not pretend you're raping me. No, that is ''not'' the spirit…"
"Foster! Foster!" Frona shouted, "The slushies! Don't forget the fucking slushies!"
Foster slapped the side of his head, "Oh! Damn, I nearly forgot!"
He turned around and tugged the door handle. It did not open. Foster looked very confused.
"Keys, sir," Vivi pointed out.
Foster withdrew his keys and unlocked his car. He leaned in and grabbed the trio of slushies they bought at a gas station. There was quite the argument when they were pouring those slushies, Foster believed two was the absolute maximum that should go into a slushie. The girls wanted to try all the flavors. Vivi wanted to keep the flavors separate, Frona insisted they be mixed. It made her nervous to see the colors separate, she said that for the sake of her OCD, the flavors must be mixed.
Foster bumped the door closed with his hindquarters and walked to Frona's front door. Frona walked past him and opened the door, stepping inside.
"No lock? Must be a nice neighborhood…" Foster pointed out.
"Nah, man. They keep breaking my windows when I lock it, so I don't lock it," Frona corrected him.
"Smart, simple. Sometimes I wish I could wrap up problems with solutions like that…" Foster mused before he stepped inside.

Michelle called Foster for the fifth time in the last hour, she sighed, resting her cheek on her palm and blowing a frustrated raspberry. She was sitting on the steps outside of Thoth, a blue oni stepped out, stepping down the stairs. She was wearing a dress suit and wore her hair in a ponytail. She had a very serious look in her topaz eyes.
"Excuse me, is Mr. Hawking working late?" Michelle asked the oni.
"Mr. Hawking is with a client right now," the oni explained, "If you wanted to speak with someone, we have a reception desk…"
"No no, it's nothing related to business, it's personal," Michelle said dismissively
"Oh, then you're making an excellent impression by sitting on the steps outside his office, not desperate-seeming at all," she said seriously, continuing her stride.
"I, uh…" Michelle began to protest. She went back to pouting, mumbling under her breath, "I thought it would be romantic…"
She dialed him again, it rang before his answering machine picked up, "Hello, you've reached Foster Hawkin--Hawking! Are you making a personal call?! No, just setting up the voicemail on my new cell. Hang up!"
It was funny the first time she heard it. It had since lost its value.
Michelle got a determined expression on her face and dialed another number, "Hey, Mark…yeah, it's Michelle again. Could you do me a solid?"
"Michelle, if you have me track ano--
"Yeah, that's what I'm having you do. You know me so well," Michelle interrupted the male voice on the other end.
"Michelle…tell me this, how many boyfriends have you lost because of obsessive behavior?" Mark asked.
"I haven't been counting," Michelle said innocently, sipping a triple espresso coffee without a care in the world.
"The answer is six. Seven if you count me…" Mark reminded her, "And frankly, the fact that you're able to continuously find my number every time I change it…"
"So, the number I need you to track is as follows, you ready?" Michelle ignored his pleas for sanity.
Mark sighed, "Of course I do, I have caller ID…can you ever just call to say 'hello'?"

Vivi slept lazily on Foster's chest as he watched the second movie in the series of horror movies Michelle talked about. Frona had fallen asleep as well, hours ago. She had a long day after all. There was a knock at the door.
Foster called over to Frona, "Hey, Miss Jeffery…"
No reply, she was out like a light.
"Miss…Frona!" he tried her first name. Still no reply.
Foster sighed, pushing up from the beanbag he had melded with. He stumbled over to the door, having a pretty severe body high.
He opened the unlocked door, Michelle stared at him curiously.
"F-Foster??" she reacted with shock, "Are you ok?"
She peered over his shoulder at the den of debauchery, "Is this…what is this?"
Foster looked behind him, "Oh! Let me introduce you."
He pointed at Vivi, "That's Vivi, the new intern at Thoth…"
He pointed at Frona, "That's Frona Jeffery, she's my client…"
Michelle was speechless. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She went right to work unbuckling Foster's pants.
"Whoa, what? What's going on??" Foster protested.
When she pried his pants open she fell to her knees. She then took a deep whiff of the contents of his pants, which surprised Foster, since he was expecting something wholly different.
She exhaled with relief, having satisfied some morbid curiosity no doubt.
She stood back up and straightened herself out, "Ok…so we'll both pretend that didn't happen…what are you doing here?"
Foster looked at her for an extended period. He did not know quite how long, because his perception of time was a little off.
"Foster?" Michelle tilted her head at him, "What are you doing here?"
Foster blinked and shook his head, "Sorry, what?"
"Foster, are you high?"
Foster shook his head, "No, I haven't even had a drink…wait…"
He glanced at the alraune, "Uh oh…"

"The sample you brought in was alraune tissue, female," the forensics technician explained, "Well, I mean, of course it's female…I don't know why I'd have to specify that. Anyway, as you suspected, there was a high concentration of THC in the tissue. And it was also filled with a constant-release pheromone, typical of your standard alraune, that was also heavily THC-based…"
Foster nodded, drinking heavily from a glass of water. The technician was a Gazer of surprising tall stature for her race. She nonetheless only really met Foster's height. As Gazer features are largely homogenous throughout their species, there was nothing notable about her appearance. The number of eye stalks a Gazer has however does vary, this one had nine.
"Next time you want to bother me in the middle of the fucking night, why don't you bring me an actual challenge?" the gazer concluded.
"Please, Daniela, we all know you're here all night…" Foster quipped.
"Hey, fuck you, I have a life," Daniela denied with reddened features.
"I'm sorry, is this always how you interact with your coworkers?" Michelle asked.
"Just a few…Daniela's a bitch," Foster pointed out.
Daniela threw the results of the test at Foster, "Get out of my fucking lab, Hawking."
She stomped away. Michelle turned to Foster, "Are you ok? Does your head hurt?"
Foster looked up at her skeptically, "What? No. Have you ever even smoked pot? Uh, nevermind. So, I learned an important lesson about alraune clients today…"
"Yeah, there are a lot of clients that secrete mind-altering substances…or mind-altering magics…" Michelle said casually, "Hell, I myself have mind-altering dandruff."
"Oh, ew," Foster grimaced at her.
Michelle got defensive, her face flushing, "H-hey! It's not nasty, it's just sort of a sleeping powder…it even effects me, making me dense and woozy all the time."
Foster laughed to himself, "Michelle, you are the least dense and woozy person I know. In fact, you're full of energy, a little too much energy."
Michelle giggled, holding up her cup from a nearby coffee shop, "This is my secret. I worship the stuff. Sweet, sweet coffee. Without it, I'm this dopey little girl."
"That aside, what was with that crotch-sniffing earlier?" Foster asked with concern.
"Oh…uh…" Michelle glanced around, "Why were you watching those movies without me? You know I wanted to see them with you."
Foster scratched the back of his head, "Well, I was trying to catch up to the third one so we could see it together in theaters. Hey, you didn't answer my question."
"I offered to watch it at my place, I've got both of them, and plenty of popcorn," she said.
"Michelle, you don't think that's kind of…" Foster shook his head, "No, crotch-sniffing, explanation now."
Michelle looked hurt, and then guilty, "I was…afraid you had sex with one of those other girls."
"Afraid? What? We haven't even gone on our first date," Foster reminded her.
"Yeah, you just kinda disappeared…I waited outside your office to pick you up," Michelle covered her mouth like she just said a bad word.
"You ''waited'' outside my office? Michelle…" Foster cringed at the social failures of this weresheep.
"Oh, that bitch crazy, Hawking…" Daniela suddenly said, one of her eye stalks peering around the corner at them, "You gotta drop that hot potato before you get burned."
"Daniela, please," Foster attempted to dismiss her.
"No no!" Daniela refused, stepping around the corner, "I'd love to see how this goes! It's just like one of my japanese animes! Go, weresheep, make your best crazy face."
Foster looked at Michelle. Michelle had, in fact, put on a face that could freeze a lava golem and then shatter it into tiny pieces. Truly scary.
"Ooh, that's right…now, watch her face when I tell her our little secret," Daniela moved in close, "Hawking and I were once an item."
Foster shot upward into a standing position, "Alright, Daniela! That's enough!"
Too late, Daniela had snapped a picture of the weresheep with her smartphone, "Oh my god! You missed it, Hawking! It was blood-curdling! Her pupils were pinpoints! I'm going to die tonight in my sleep! Just to let you know, weresheep, gazer's don't sleep and we see everything! Good luck!"
Foster whistled sharply. So sharply Daniela actually recoiled and covered her ears, "Jesus fuck, Hawking."
"I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs, and stop making false claims of us being in a relationship…the very thought of it," Foster said sternly. Daniela looked hurt.
"Hey, man…sorry. I was just kidding around," Daniela backed away slowly, "Shit, I just…sorry, ok?"
She turned and walked briskly around the corner, out of sight.
Foster turned to Michelle, his hand on his head like he always did when he was stressed. She looked fine, no crazy face at all. Well, good.
Foster sat down next to her, "Sorry about all this. The case, the drugs, it was all really bad timing. Listen, maybe we can try to work something out next week?"
"N-no!" she cried. Foster looked up at her with concern, "I-I mean, I was looking forward to it all week is all."
"Fine, I guess we can do something tomorrow," Foster conceded, "I do have to look into the evidence the prosecution has though."
"Why not now? Are you tired?" Michelle asked innocently.
"Well, yes, very," Foster broke the bad news.
Michelle held her coffee out to him.
He shook his head, "I really think a good night's sleep would do me worlds better…"
Michelle pushed the coffee close to him, insistent, "Listen, we took my car here, so you owe me."
"Oh, right…" Foster sighed. Someone had apparently made off with his vehicle while he was stoned. He forgot to lock the door. In fact, he had left the keys in the cup holder after grabbing the drinks.
"Fine…what would you like to do then?"
"My place! Let's pop those two movies in and watch them the right way, without being high," she suggested, her green eyes twinkling with excitement.
"What? Both of them? I was halfway through the second one when you found me…wait, how did you find--
"You've got to see them with a clear head! You probably don't even remember the first one! Come on, it will be fun!"
Foster sighed, snapping the coffee out of her hands. He drank deeply from it.

Foster sat on her couch. It was a rather nice home. She had a condo, and she seemed to be doing very well for herself. She must have been a very successful lawyer. Or one who charged far too much for their services. Foster himself only lived in a townhouse.
He sat on her rather oversized couch, watching the DVD menu continuously loop the same music as it awaited selection. Michelle was in another room, preparing him some coffee.
She came out bearing a carafe, "Irish or no?"
"I think I've had enough drugs today, no thanks," he politely refused.
She laid out the coffee, Foster helped himself. She was wearing pajamas. Cutesy little pajamas covered in little rams.
Michelle began to rave about the particular bean she used, and how she ground them. She almost started to go on about how she brewed the coffee, but Foster interrupted her.
"Let's just start the movie, I'm not a coffee connoisseur."
Michelle frowned, "Are you ok?"
Foster shook his head, "I'm fine…"
Michelle sighed, flopping down on the couch next to him. They sat there for a while.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little over-enthusiastic about relationships…"
"You think?" Foster gave her the eye.
She lifted a pillow off the couch and hid her face with it, "I'm sorry! I mean well, I really do! I just thought…I dunno, you would enjoy being pushed into something fun and a little crazy. I won't force you to watch these movies."
"If at all possible, I would prefer just to sleep off the day," Foster admitted.
"You can sleep here!" Michelle offered, popping her head out of her pillow.
"Michelle…" Foster sighed, "I'm not sure if you're just a bold girl who's not afraid to be straight with what she wants, or a psycho."
Michelle pulled her legs up onto the couch, crawling upon it on her hands and knees towards Foster, "I'm serious…"
Foster looked at her, his eyes still bloodshot, "Yeah, psycho."
She lowered her hindquarters, sitting somewhat like a cat, "For someone who acts so wary of my behavior, here you are. In my house, on my couch, watching my TV…"
"I dunno, I guess I'm a pushover," Foster stated, "Or because you actually seem to listen to me. That's pretty rare for me these days."
"Nobody listens to you?" she tilted her head.
"It's nothing, I'm griping about work…" Foster told her, sipping his coffee.
"Well, I hang on your every word."
"Michelle…"
"You just say my name every time you're uncomfortable, like you're trying to give me the chance to backpedal what I said," she leaned in, Foster felt her breath hitting his ear, "It's very cute."
"Mich--
Foster stopped suddenly, realizing he was about to just say her name again, "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not in the mood for romance right now."
Michelle leapt upon him, sinking his nose into her hair. Foster inhaled reflexively. It hit him, her sleepy dust. His fingers slipped around his coffee mug, causing it to fall from his grip. Michelle caught it before it fell too far. She pulled back from him, looking down at him with hungry eyes. She smiled and brought the cup up to her nose. She took a deep whiff. With a pleasurable moan, she downed the rest of the cup and placed it on the table.
"You will wake up very refreshed, I guarantee it," she told him with a grin. Of course, he was so utterly tired at that point that he could only fall gently asleep.

Vivi woke up in Michelle's car, she glanced around curiously. She did not remember how she got there, or where she even was. She tried the door, it opened for her. She slid out of the car and looked around. Well, the car was clearly parked in the driveway of a condominium, so she crawled up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

Foster woke up in a bed he believed was far too big for any single person, or couple for that matter. Michelle had her arm draped over him. Foster attempted to pry himself from her. She grunted and pulled him tighter.
"Michelle…" Foster said, not bothering to whisper.
The doorbell went off again. Michelle's eyes shot open. Deep red and full of bubbling rage. Foster recoiled in terror. She rolled over and snapped up a bottle of pills and one of those energy drink shots that were supposed to keep one up for five hours. She popped open the bottle and threw back a pair of pills, she chased it with the energy shot. She exhaled forcefully, letting her head hang for a while. Eventually she blinked a few times and looked at Foster.
"I'm sorry…I'm nothing without my first cup of coffee," she told him, holding up the bottle for him to see. Caffeine pills.
Foster stood up, his clothes were missing, "Michelle, where is my suit?"
"They're sitting on the chair by the door…don't you want to grab a shower first?" she offered.
The doorbell rang again. Foster looked at the weresheep, "You should answer your door."
"It's probably just Illias' Witness…"
"No, it's probably Vivi, we left her in the car last night, remember?"
Michelle sighed and sprung out of bed, clopping out of the room. Foster promptly got dressed.
Vivi was welcomed inside.
"Would you like some coffee?" Michelle offered.
"No thank you, I don't drink coffee," Vivi refused, "Is Foster in here? How did we end up here?"
"Long story…"
Foster stepped out, heading straight for the door, "Come on Vivi, I've called a taxi, we can wait outside."
Michelle whipped around to look at him, "W-what? You can wait in here, it's no trouble."
"Michelle, I think it would be for the best if we never--
"Stop!" Michelle cried suddenly.
Foster and Vivi looked at her curiously.
Michelle walked over and retrieved something from her kitchen, returning to Foster's side. She pushed something at his chest, "I got you something."
Foster took a look at it, it was a respirator.
"It's for interacting with clients like yours…" she explained.
Foster waved the mask at her, leaning in close so only she could hear him, "If you think I'm going to take this as a peace offering for last night…"
Michelle shook her head vigorously, "I just dosed you so you could get some sleep! I didn't do anything but move you to the bed…and take your clothes off. But I swear that was it!"
"I don't believe you."
"I swear, I have cameras all over my house, I can show you the footage!"
Foster looked at her like a madwoman, stepping backward a few times, "As I said…I don't think we should contin--
"I'll make you breakfast! What do you want? Eggs? Pancakes?!" she said, her eyes wide.
She ran past Foster, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Foster and Vivi sat in the back seat of the taxi, silently waiting to arrive.
"You two are a cute couple," Vivi suddenly spoke up.
Foster snorted, stifling a laugh, "I'm sorry? What?"
Vivi blushed a bit, "You guys act a little like my mom and dad. She's so caring about him, and is always doting on him. And he's so cute about it, being shy and stuff."
Foster cleared his throat, "And how long have your parents been together?"
"Well, they had me soon after they fell in love, so I'd say twent--
"Well, Michelle and I haven't seen much of each other at all yet…I'd say the combined amount of time we've spent in each other's company is around one day…"
Vivi looked at him with an expectant expression. Foster looked at her, "Well?"
"Well what? My mom and dad got married the day after they met."
Foster buried his face into his palm. The taxi stopped suddenly. The youko driver announced that they had arrived. Foster paid and slipped his respirator on as he approached Frona's door. He gave it a few firm knocks. A hellhound answered.
"Miss Jeffery is in, I presume?" Foster asked.
"Hey, you must be Hawking, you're the lawyer," the hellhound pointed out. Her eye flames were a gentle blue color. Hellhound flames did not work like normal flames, so Foster had no idea if they were hotter than the normal red flames, "My name's Christiana, no last name. Nice to meet you."
Foster held out a hand to shake, but she retreated from the door way, allowing him inside. He wiped his hand on his trousers and stepped inside. It appeared to be a drug den, various people of different backgrounds were strewn across the floor, sleeping or otherwise stoned. Foster navigated around them, stepping over to Frona, who gently caressed a young man's head on her lap.
"Hello, Miss Jeffery, I have questions I'd like to ask you," Foster pulled up a beanbag chair, flopping into it casually, "First and foremost, what is your primary income."
"What?" she said lazily.
"Income…umm, have you a job? A career? What do you do for money?"
"I don't have a job, man."
"You conjured fifty-thousand dollars out of thin air when asked, how in the world did you get that kind of money?"
"I don't know where every dollar I have comes from, man," she waved dismissively at him, "Do you?"
"Yes, I do, actually. I'm an adult," Foster corrected, "And I'm sure I'd know where 50K came from at least."
She waved at him dismissively again.
"Seriously, money…where do you get it," Foster asked.
"From these, man," she indicated the room, "People pay me just to come hang out and party, man. You got a freebie last night."
Foster glanced around curiously, "You host parties for income? Interesting, but not illegal."
"Have you ever sold parts of your body for money?" he followed up.
"What? Like a whore?"
"No, like a drug dealer."
"No…I mean, I give out my leaves as gifts."
Foster grinned a bit, "Also not illegal. Do you advertise that you will give our your leaves as gifts if people come and pay to party with you?"
"What? Advertise?"
"Like, tell people that you'll give them your leaves if they attend your party, pay you."
"Oh, talking to people. Nah, man. I don't leave this house very often. I hang out on the balcony when I sunbathe. But the people just sorta come on their own."
"They…uh…" Foster scratched his head, "Interesting."
Foster snapped his fingers, "Last question, promise. Taxes, do you pay them?"
"What? Taxes?"
"That bodes well."
"Her taxes are handled, and are paid in full well in advance," Foster heard a voice declare defiantly behind him.
It was the hellhound, her eye flames were a normal red hue. She looked down at him in his chair, clutching a specialized pipe to her hip. Inside the bulb of said pipe was a kesaran pasaran, snoozing quietly. The hellhound herself wore nothing but a pair of male boxers and a blouse.
"And you would know?" Foster asked.
"Yeah, I do them…" she told him, wiping her nose, "Pro bono."
She brought the pipe up and ripped off it. The girl inside the bulb giggle and squirmed in her sleep as the wind rustled past her cottony body. The hellhound inhaled the spores and gave a satisfied smile, her eye flames tinting back to blue, "I know my way around finances, not that it's terribly hard to do taxes. She's fine."
Foster gave her a nod, "Well, I'll take your word for that one. Vivi."
He turned to see Vivi lying in a pile of other stoners. He had forgotten to perhaps give her a means to prevent her own intoxication as well.

Foster pulled up to the firm around lunch, eating a granola bar as he stood and walked to the entrance. Vivi stumbled about behind him, trying to keep up. The taxi drove off and he opened the door to the lobby.
"Do you have an appointment?" Dalila asked without looking up.
Foster and Vivi walked past her without a word.
"Hello?" she asked the thin air, still not looking up.
Foster and Vivi stepped into his office, Foster checked his office phone messages. They began playing as he sat in his chair and began going through his emails. A number of the voice messages were Michelle, pleading for him to answer his cell or asking him his location. A number of emails were also from her.
Abbey did not wait long before busting into his office, "Hawking!"
"I'm here," Foster acknowledged.
"Why did you not log your client hours yesterday? Why are you late this morning?" she demanded.
"I was caught up with the client."
"Oh, really? You realize you are a professional? You are her lawyer."
"If you're implying that we were meeting on less formal matters, you are incorrect. Her case is airtight. She's done nothing illegal," Foster assured her, pulling a pen from his pocket and spinning the cap on it, "I'm going to wipe the floor with the prosecution."
Abbey looked at him seriously, before cracking a small smile, "Hawking, you beast. Here I was about to toss her in the rejection pile."
Foster's sly grin drooped into a distasteful frown, "Oh, great."
Abbey let forth a hearty laugh, "Well, you stay on top of her then, don't let this slip through your fingers."
She laughed once more, wiping a tear from her left eye. She cleared her throat, returning to her serious default, "Log your hours, Hawking. We're reaching the end of this pay period."
She turned and left his office, slamming the door behind her. Akila was, again, on the wrong side of the door when it closed. She sighed.

When Foster was wrapping up his day he heard someone honking their horn outside his window. That reminded him to call for a taxi. He began to dial his phone only for the honking to resume outside. He walked over to the window, phone to his ear. He looked down to see Michelle peering up at him, her arm going into her driver's side window. She saw that she got his attention, standing up straight and giving him a smile.
Foster hung up, he had a ride now at least.
"Hey! What the hell is your problem?! Some of us are trying to work!" Dalila opened the external door and screamed at Michelle.
Foster packed up his stuff and headed down to meet her. He opened the door and looked around for her. She was no longer next to her car. He suddenly felt his arm being grabbed.
"Boo!" the weresheep said as she pounced from behind the door.
Foster cleared his throat, "You intend to drive me home?"
"Yes! But don't worry, I already know where you live," she assured him.
"That's not comforting."
"Oh, but it is. It means that you lose nothing by letting my drive you home, since I already know where you live."
Foster sighed and placed his palm on his face, "Your self-awareness disturbs me more than this behavior."
The two sat inside her car and began making their way to his house.
"I'm going to make a fair guess and say you're not just going to see me off at the door," Foster said.
"Not if you invite me inside, Foster," she winked at him.
"Let's say I have no intention of inviting you inside…"
Michelle frowned, "Why are you being so mean? I told you, I didn't do anything last night."
"It's not that."
She continued to watch the road but made a pained expression, squeezing the wheel, "I'm trying my best here, Foster. This is the only language I speak. Going all in is all I know, and it's all I'm comfortable with."
Foster sighed but remained silent.
"Talking, that solves everything, that's why we're lawyers. What's wrong, Foster? Tell me, I'm listening."
"You ready for this?" Foster looked over at her.
She looked away from the road to look at him, "I'm ready."
"You seem to know what you're doing is weird, and socially unacceptable, but you do it anyway…"
"My philosophy that if you're not hurting anyone, who cares what's socially acceptable?"
"I…" Foster actually thought she made an excellent point. In fact, one of the points of lawyers is to defend legal behavior, no matter how unpopular, "You've got to know that this isn't good for your chances…acting crazy."
"I'm not acting, expressing myself honestly is how I'm most comfortable," she stated with a guilty look, "If you could worry less about how different I am, and more about what I'm actually trying to say…"
"And just what are you trying to say, Michelle?" Foster asked.
"I'm trying to say I like you…" Michelle said, "I would never hurt you, and I haven't. I've driven you places, let you stay the night, bought you a gift…just because I do it a little more enthusiastically than the world says is acceptable, doesn't mean I'm less genuine."
"This conversation itself is a little uncomfortable," Foster pointed out.
"I don't mind if you don't return my affections," she conceded, "And if you find my behavior to truly be repulsive, not because it's socially unacceptable, but because you really don't like it, then I understand you wanting me to leave you alone. But I've been trying to avoid calling you at work, or getting in your way. Keeping my crazy contained until we're alone, you know?"
"If you're asking for me to extend my understanding and let you have the benefit of the doubt…"
"Yes, that's it. All I'm asking. And please don't call me crazy, I prefer 'enthusiastic'."
"Fine," Foster sighed.
"Yay!" she exclaimed.
They pulled up to Foster's townhouse shortly. Michelle parked and looked at him expectantly, "Are you going to invite me inside?"
Foster looked at her seriously, "Am I going to regret this?
"I'm not a fortuneteller, Foster."

Michelle brought the horror movie DVDs with her in the car. She planned ahead. And once Foster was able to stop thinking about her obsessive behavior and just watch the movie, he was able to enjoy her company.
"This scene right here is a testament to the low budget of the film in general, but really showcases the true-to-vision approach they took with the movie," Michelle pointed out, "It's really the advantage of not caring about appealing to the lowest common denominator. More money, more problems, no?"
She picked up her coffee and sipped it fondly, she really did love coffee. She sighed with contentment. Leaning back on the couch. She looked really snug on the couch, wearing her pajamas like last time. She brought her pajamas over. But now that Foster thought about it, he guessed he did not mind. She looked cute in them, and he was not completely opposed to having her stay the night. She was correct about her magic dandruff, the sleep he got that night was unrivaled.
She looked over at him, catching him staring. She gave him a pleasant smile, "See something you want?"
Foster shook his head and turned back to the movie.
"I don't mind it," she said to him. He looked back at her. She looked at him shyly, bringing her hands up and unbuttoning her pajama top slowly, exposing a little more cleavage. Her skin was a very pearly white. It was tempting, looking at the space between her pajama top and her smooth breasts. If he were to reach over and open her top just an inch more, he would be able to see her nipples. He wondered what color they were, a chocolatey brown, a pretty pink.
"You look hungry," she pointed out, "It's no problem, I'm all yours if you want me. Are you submissive or dominant in bed?"
Her awkward questions were actually pretty conducive to lewd situations. It was exciting Foster.
"Ok, I'm not one to hide it," Foster confessed, "I'm horny."
"I can tell," she grinned, reaching over and caressing his member in his pants, "So?"
"I'm both," Foster explained, "It depends on my mood."
"What are you in the mood for, Foster?"
He looked at her ravenous eyes as she stroked him. She lowered herself onto her elbows, bringing both her hands over to work with his pants. She unzipped them and pulled his cock free. She held it in her hands, admiring it.
"Which category does receiving a blowjob fall under?" Foster asked.
She rolled her eyes up to glance at him impishly before returning her gaze to his penis. Without another word she licked her lips and wrapped them around his dick. She sucked greedily at it, producing lewd sounds over the movie playing on the television. Foster sighed and allowed himself to melt into the sensation. He looked over at her hindquarters, raised up into the air. Her little lamb tail wiggled excitedly in her pajama pants. Foster reached over, grasped the elastic, and pulled it down her thighs, exposing said tail and the wall of fluff lining her butt. He clutched at her creamy butt-cheek and gave it a firm squeeze, causing her to squeal a little with her mouth full. He ran his fingers down the crack of her ass and felt the slavering entrance of her pussy. He penetrated her with his middle finger. The wet sucking sounds coming from her blowjob were joined with her moaning lasciviously.
He wondered if she was truly enjoying it, or just putting on a show for him. She answered his question when he noticed her hooves pointing out, like she was curling her toes without actually having toes. She crossed her ankles and bent her knees as the two of them approached climax.
A particularly important plot-point in the movie went by as the two of them shivered with orgasms. He bumped the back of her throat as his hips spasmed. When she felt he was all done, she vacuumed out what was left in the shaft and pushed herself back into a sitting position. She swallowed and gave him a loving, satisfied look.
"Did you really have a thing with that gazer?" she asked suddenly.
Foster sighed, "Michelle…"
There was a silence.
"Is that a no?"
"No, we never did…"
She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, she lifted the remote from his armrest and pressed the previous chapter. They continued the movie from where they left off.

The court date arrived. Foster awaited Frona's arrival, though she was making it a point to be very late. And to not answer her phone.
The judge was announced as a Kiyoko Mori. She came out, a very refined-looking crow tengu. She took her seat.
"Are both parties ready to begin?" she asked simply.
"Eh, no, your honor," Foster explained to her, "My client may be stuck in traffic."
"It's no problem, it can be pretty bad out there this time of day," she gave him a nod, "I would like to wrap this case up quickly, however, so should she fail to appear, I would like you to present your findings so that I may render my sentence."
Foster swallowed the lump in his throat, "Your honor, I fear you may have already concluded."
"I am not the jury, Mr. Hawking, cases like these are pretty standard, if we could wrap it up with a nice, little bow, I can prevent this from ever coming across my desk again."
"Yes, your honor…" Foster nodded and glanced backward at the door, hoping she would walk through it.

It had been an hour, Foster had left at least two dozen messages on Frona's voicemail.
"It seems to me abundantly clear that we have a failure to appear, Mr. Hawking," the judge sighed, "I would very much like to proceed without her. Prosecution, you may begin."
Foster slapped his forehead, "Jesus."
A defendant not appearing for her trial did not bode well in any case. Now Foster was going to have to hope he could pull this off.
A fairly skinny succubus lawyer presented the prosecution's case. She brought forth only a few pieces of evidence. A sample of Frona's leaves, a lab result showing the high THC content. Several witnesses who got immunity from their drug ownership charges came forward and did in fact claim they were provided the drugs by Frona. The evidence was…lacking.
Actually, as the prosecution presented each bit of evidence, Foster just nodded. Nothing they were saying was false. Every witness he cross-examined, he only asked one question.
"Did Frona sell you her leaves, or provide them as a gift?" he would ask.
And each would deny. Except for one, a beelzebub who was purposely being difficult to the court. She said 'no' in response to everything, including her name. She was held in contempt of court and then beaten by the bailiff. The bailiff was a wurm. She was not told to beat the beelzebub, she did so of her own accord. The wurm was then held in contempt of court and was beaten by her mentor, another wurm. It was apparently her first day.
The prosecution was sweating bullets and it was not even the defense's turn yet. Foster had already hammered all the nails to their case's coffin, it was just a matter of burying it.
The tengu concluded the prosecution, and called up the defense, Foster stood up. He turned around, suddenly noticing Akila sitting right next to where he was. He had not noticed her there until just now.
He cleared his throat, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Before you has been brought a case of drug dealership, the dispensing of illicit materials for monetary gain…"
He scanned the jury. Five were asleep.
"But what we've seen here is an alraune woman, doing nothing but gifting portions of her body to her friends and customers. Free of charge," Foster pointed out, "Have you not heard of housewives trading goods produced by their own body for the sake of enhancing their marriage? How about to promote the health of their children? A holstaur is entitled to gift her breastmilk to friends and family without the law getting involved. A manticore is similarly entitled to hand out her mature spines for use however the receiver of her gift deems fit. Frona Jeffery is a proud woman, whose body is behaving the way it was formed at birth. And if she feels like another may enjoy the products of her body, it is within her right to provide them. The law only dictates the ''trade'' of such goods. Frona has traded nothing, no money or good changed hands with the receipt of her fronds. The prosecution, far too eager in its pursuit to control intoxicating substances, have arrested and dragged through the courts an innocent woman with a heart of giving and charity…"
"Dragged through the courts," the succubus lawyer repeated.
"You will keep your petty remarks to yourself, Mrs. Hedge…" the tengu pointed her gavel at the woman.
Foster nodded, "The defense rests, your honor…"
"The jury is dismissed to deliberate, make it quick, I wanted a bench trial…" the tengu commands.
Foster returned to the defense and leaned in to Akila, "Akila, could you do me a solid and drop by Frona's house?"
"I'm supposed to stay here and watch the trial," she protested.
"You saw the damn trial, woman. All that's left is the verdict. I need you to make sure she's at home so we don't come down with a case of Whitney Watson."
Akila gasped, "I'll head over right now…"
Foster nodded and watched her leave.

The jury returned with a verdict. Foster, in spite of his self-assuredness, was on the edge of his seat.
"We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty," the juror announced.
Foster pumped a fist, "That's how you handle that, Vivi."
"The prosecution will cover the legal fees of the defense, save for her bail," the judge banged her gavel.
"Payday, Vivi," Foster nodded.
"What about bail," she asked.
Foster pulled out a celebratory cigar from his briefcase, clenching it in his teeth, "Not our problem…"
He suddenly surged forward and spat out the cigar, "Ech, it's got ink on it!"
Vivi blushed with shame.
"Though to be honest, I get the feeling that hellhound is going to appear in here soon enough," Foster said before he lifted a glass of water and gargled it.
"What?"
Foster spat the inky water back in the glass, "Did you not get the strange feeling she was the mastermind behind this?"
"Was that something I was supposed to see?"
"Nevermind, Vivi."

Foster wrapped up the paperwork on the case, when Whitney Watson suddenly busted his office door inward with his boot.
"Oh, fuck," Foster swore.
"Foster Hawking!" he shouted, pointing a finger at him like a pro-wrestler, "I've come to collect!"
"Save it, Watson, the client has been located, she didn't go into hiding."
"She's going dow--sh-she's been located?"
"Yeah, as it turned out, she thought bail money was a 'get-out-of-jail' fee that she paid once…" Foster grimaced, disdainful of his former client's tenuous grasp on the law; her grasp on reality in general, "She's working out a payment plan as we speak."
"Foster, who is he?" Vivi asked curiously.
"Whitney Watson…bounty hunter."
Whitney Watson was the over-enthusiastic bounty hunter of Thoth Law Firm. He rarely appeared in the office, but was universally hated by the employees. He got hospitalized at least once a week, and raped at least once a month. It was abundantly clear that he valued the job itself more than the pay it offered. He was still employed because he always delivered. He fancied himself a modern-day paladin. Perhaps with some pro-wrestler mixed in. And definitely some super-sentai and Batman thrown in for good measure.
He was an absolute jackass.
"Fuck off, Whitney," Foster dismissed him.
"I'll be back, Hawking!" he announced, "You reject me now, because things are peaceful, but when the night falls on this law firm, you will all look up to me and cry for help. And I will whisper, 'no'!"
Oh, and some hardened noir detective.
He brandished his cape and disappeared from Foster's office.
Foster buried his face into his palm.
"He's…so…cool!" Vivi exclaimed with stars in her eyes.
"You what?" Foster looked at her incredulously.
She pressed her little white face to the glass of Foster's window and watched Watson drive away in 'The Justice Train'. It was a sports car Watson purchased and got custom painted. Clients who are caught by him complain that he never stops making the pun "The Justice Train has no brakes!" whenever they ask him to stop or let them go. Other clients say that he makes the pun repeatedly, regardless if they actually speak or not.
"Please don't like him, Vivi. If you want to be liked around the office, you'll hate him like the rest of us…" Foster warned her.
"I wish being a lawyer was that awesome…" she reiterated.
Foster sighed.