Queen of Prosecutors
Summary: Franziska sees Edgeworth's "King of Prosecutors" award and immediately begins on a quest to become Queen of Prosecutors.
Franziska von Karma rarely met with prosecutors anywhere besides her own office. Her office was, of course, perfect, so why should there be any reason to meet somewhere else?
That's why the first time she entered Miles Edgeworth was over a year after she had first come to America.
The office was a bit too foolish for Franziska's taste—who puts one of their suits inside a picture frame?—but she couldn't help but notice a strange, K-shaped plaque.
"What is that?" Franziska asked, pointing at it.
"It's the King of Prosecutors award," Edgeworth said. "I won it for being the best Prosecutor last year."
Franziska cracked her whip. "You lie!"
Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Do tell."
"You could not have won an award for being the best Prosecutor last year, because I was the best prosecutor last year," Franziska explained. "My record was far superior to yours."
"Nonsense," Edgeworth said. "I took far more high-level cases than you did."
"I had more victories!"
"And losses. I hear you recently lost to Phoenix Wright for the sixth time in a row?"
Franziska growled. "The foolish Judge was too easily convinced by the defense's foolish theories! Do me a favor and never mention that case to me again, Little Brother!"
"Touchy," Edgeworth mused. "In any case, I have to return the award next week when they hold a vote to decide who gets it this year. Perhaps you will get lucky and win it from me."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," Franziska said, already imagining how good the trophy would look on her desk. "I am the perfect prosecutor. Everyone who works here knows that."
"Ah, but only members of the police department can vote on who gets the award," Edgeworth said. "I wonder, are you popular with the local detectives?"
Franziska frowned. She was not popular with the detectives at all—too many of them had received whip lashes to the face.
"I will...find some way around that particular problem..." Franziska said.
Edgeworth groaned. He knew that look in Franziska's face. Growing up with her had given him a pretty good idea of what she was thinking at most times.
"Franziska, whatever you're planning on doing, don't do it."
"I'm not planning anything," Franziska lied. "I mean, why would I care about a silly little trophy?"
"Because you're jealous that I won it first," Edgeworth said.
"Jealous?" Franziska laughed. "Why would I be jealous of my little brother?"
"Will you stop calling me your little brother? I'm eight years older than you!"
"Seven years, three hundred and sixty-three days! Not eight whole years!"
"Do you need me to explain the mathematical concept of rounding for you, Little Sister?"
"That's Big Sister! And no, I don't need your help!"
"Well, you're going to need a lot of help if you intend to take my trophy from me!"
"Fool! You'll see! This year, I will be the Queen of Prosecutors!"
Later that week, there was a minor incident at the police department.
Detective Dick Gumshoe was in charge of counting the ballots for the annual awards ceremony. At the end of the day, when he came to collect all the votes, the ballot box had mysteriously disappeared.
"I could have sworn the ballot box was there in the room, Pal," Detective Gumshoe said. "There's no reason why the ballot box would leave the voting room. But I checked the whole room, and it was empty!"
Detective Gumshoe did a frantic search of the police department until he found the box on his desk, on the other side of the building.
"But then the ballot box showed up on my desk ten minutes later! I don't know what happened. Somebody must have dropped it off for me."
Could someone have stolen the ballot box? But if so, why would the culprit return the box so quickly? Were the ballots tampered with in any way?
"Oh, no, there was nothing wrong with the ballots, Pal," Detective Gumshoe said. "In fact, they were really easy to count. There were over 300 write-in ballots for Franziska von Karma!"
Detective Gumshoe scratched his head.
"I dunno how that happened because we don't have 300 police officers. Some people must have voted twice."
And so it was that Franziska von Karma was elected King, er, Queen of Prosecutors that year. She insisted that they make a special Queen of Prosecutors trophy just for her—a trophy that was bigger than Edgeworth's.
Edgeworth was allowed to keep the King of Prosecutor's trophy in his office for another year, since it wasn't going to be given to anyone new. But the trophy didn't satisfy Edgeworth—he knew full well that Franziska had somehow cheated in order to take his title away from him.
So he arranged for a little surprise in order to teach her a lesson.
Chief Prosecutor Lana Skye was the MC for the awards ceremony.
"All right, our next award is the King of Prosecutors for this year. I'm proud to announce that for the first time in over forty years, the King of Prosecutors is actually a Queen. Please congratulate Miss Franziska von Karma on her achievement."
There was polite applause as Franziska went onstage and accepted the trophy, flashing her triumphant I am the best prosecutor in the world! smile at everyone.
Oh, just you wait, Edgeworth thought.
"This means we get to resurrect an old tradition: the customary slow dance between the Queen of Prosecutors and the King of Defenders! Please welcome Phoenix Wright!"
"WHAAAT?" Franziska screamed. "There is no way I would ever dance with that fool!"
"But you have to! It's tradition!" Lana said.
Edgeworth smirked. Take that, little sister.