Okay, so here's what happened...
---
Sarah Beth and I were sitting together on one side of the courtroom. We were wearing dark blue clothes - I a suit and her a dress. She had her hair tied. I looked at her and smiled reassuringly. She returned the smile. We held hands. Then, she leaned over to my ear and whispered:
"Ashley, we're going to lose."
"Don't say that, Sarah Beth. Think positive."
"Jeff is our attorney. Not exactly the right circumstance for thinking positive."
I look to my right at Jeff. True, there were probably better choices for lawyers out there, such as one that is wearing pants instead of shorts.
"Jeff..." I began, "why are you wearing shorts?"
"Well, to tell the truth, it's rather hot out today. The only thing is, it is freezing in here. What is it, ten degrees? You would happen to be carrying leg warmers, would you?"
"What? No!"
"Okay, then."
I'm going to go ahead and skip to the next part. I just wanted to tell you that part to give you the sense of how screwed we actually were.
So here's the part where the person that sued us is revealed.
---
"Mr. Dinkleberry?!" I stood up.
"Yes, Carter, it was me. I am the one that sued you." He was wearing a black suit with a red tie, and his hair was slicked back. His mustache was neatly trimmed. He carried with him a clean, black suitcase."
"There is no way that you could have gotten poisoned from The Brew! We blacklisted you."
"That's why I had Stanley get my coffee for me. I wanted to check out the competition and see what I could do better."
"Oh... wait. Who is Stanley?"
"My new assistant manager, Stanley Pope."
"So you're Ashley Carter." A soft voice came from behind me. I jumped and turned to see a plump boy with curly black hair and thin, metallic lenses smiling at me. His suit was pure white, and he was holding a pristine white briefcase and a white coffee cup that read "World's Greatest Attorney." I had, in fact, seen him at the Brew once before.
"How long were you standing there?" I asked, catching my breath.
"Long enough." He was still smiling at me in this sort of disgusting, unsettling way.
"Enough?"
"You have cat hair on your suit. You should really use a lint roller. Makes a bad impression."
"Well, I don't have one." He walked by me to his table, opened the briefcase, which was neatly organized with papers, folders, two more coffee mugs, and office supplies. He pulled out a lint roller and handed it to me.
"Er, thanks?"
"Don't bother returning it. I have plenty left. Always prepared and dressed to the nines."
"You're always prepared with lint rollers?"
"I am always prepared with anything that I may possibly need. And more. After all, I am one of Oxford's finest."
"Oxford! Why are you working at a coffee shop in London, then, if you're an Oxford guy?"
"Torvald and I are going into business together. We plan to start a franchise with The Old Bean, with eight stores opening by 2012."
