I was finally on my way outta the joint after

I was finally on my way outta the joint after the bum Grand Theft Auto rap that got pinned on me. My cousin Tony had come up on a Caddy and when he got pinched by the fuzz he put

his T-Top Firebird on "ice" and lawyered up like his name was OJ Simpson. When Johnny Cochran showed up he had big black bag full of assorted

emptiness to hide damning evidence in. "Don't question the bag," Cochrane told his client. Unfortunately, Cochrane didn't count on the one man who could best him: Miles Edgeworth.

Miles was a man that no one messed with. At 6'5 with a gleaming bald black head and a body that look like it would win a fight with a mac truck anyone who knew anyone knew not to

make fun of his macrame vest. Anyone who guffawed at the lavender hearts and olive daisies would be counting their teeth off the bar. It was Miles only gift from his mom.

His mom, he smiled remembering her memory. Hair in tight curls, the smell of fresh food always cooking on the stove. Then one day she said she was going to get the dry cleaning and

brought it back just as she had said. His mother was always so dependable like that. Which made it so much harder when he found out she was killed in a tragic memorabilia accident.

It is hard to describe just what that many Mickey Mouse ears can do to the human body. He received his mother's remains in a souveneir mug from Its A Small World.

Let her watch Snow White by herself. Apparently Walt Disney didn't consider the fact that ladies who are senile may take his stories seriously and go out eating poisonous apples