Help Bobert out on his case.

From Create Your Own Story

Bobert is nothing much to look at. Actually, you feel slightly uncomfortable looking at him at all. He appears to be in his mid 30's but with all the feverish intensity of a 13-year-old, virgin-for-life, Twinkie-and-soda-guzzling fan boy. His hair is neatly slicked back and his glasses are simple and clean. His shoelaces are tied and his face is focused into a studied frown. You think that maybe it is this frown that makes you squirm. It is the frown of someone who has done something wrong and is prepared to face the consequences with all seriousness, but with the knowledge that it had to have been done. No, it is not the inappropriately serious facial expression that makes you not want to meet his eyes. It is the pink-and-blue 80's Mickey Mouse shirt tucked in over a slight potbelly and the Gameboy in its leather clip case on his hip. You are unsure as to whether you should treat him like a young teen who wants to be treated like an adult or an adult that has yet to grasp his adulthood.

You blink more than is necessary as you stand to shake his hand over you desk. You uselessly hope that by blinking a couple extra times you with either discover Bobert is less uncomfortable to look at or that his shirt and Gameboy were part of your imagination. Bobert opens his mouth to speak and you blink again as his braces glint it the fluorescent lighting of your office-once-closet.

"Hello, Mr. Wrong. I am a huge fan of your esteemed colleague, Mr. Wright, and have followed his cases since his first win in 2001. It is with this knowledge that I chose your firm to represent me in this lawsuit. I have written many letters to Mr. Wright. I had hoped that my situation as well as my familiarity with his defense style would have warranted his direct representation, but I am sure that you must be equally as capable since you are covering for him in such a highly publicized case."

That being said, he promptly plops down in the chair facing your desk for all the world like a kid and looks at you expectantly. It occurs to you that he is waiting for you to confirm his evaluation of your skill and to validate the breaking and entering of the theme park.

You tell him the truth about your skills, the lack of them anyways.

You nod sagely as if all the wrongs of the world could be summed up by the aggressive retaliation of the theme park.

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