“Fillies and gentlecolts, are you ready?”
A huge crowd of ponies in the audience replied to the announcer’s question with a jubilant cheer, pounding their forehooves in the typical manner of pony applause.
The lights in the studio dimmed, and a huge spotlight focused on the small stage. Several large cameras zeroed in on the spot, recording from every angle. A long table covered in all manner of cooking implements and fine ingredients was set up along the platform.
“For decades, Equestria has taken great pride in ponies with talent in the culinary arts,” the announcer continued. “There’s nothing more satisfying than a delicious meal prepared by one of the best, served up piping hot and full of flavor!”
The audience cheered once again in approval.
“But you didn’t come here today to see just any great chef, did you?” the announcer asked. “You came here to see the best of the best!”
A smaller spotlight now focused on a closed velvet curtain at the back of the stage. The crowd waited for the appearance of the pony they had all come to see.
“Well today, fillies and gentlecolts, we’re going beyond the best of the best!” the announcer cried. “Today, we bring you a true savant in the field of culinary arts! A wizard in the kitchen! She’s not just the best of the best! She’s the very best of the best of the best! And she’s here to whip up a dish that is sure to send your taste buds into bliss! So stamp those hooves and give a warm welcome to the one, the only… Chef Emerald!”
Deafening applause ripped through the studio as the curtain was drawn back. A tan earth pony in a starched white chef’s hat and matching coat, which stopped just high enough on her body to reveal her whisk Cutie Mark, trotted onto the stage. Her brilliant green mane shimmered under the spotlights. The mare approached the table, waving to the audience seated all around her as she waited for the cheering to die down.
“Good afternoon, everypony,” Chef Emerald said once it was finally quiet enough for her voice to be audible. “It’s wonderful to see you all here. Today, I’m going to teach you all how to prepare a dish that I’m sure all of you will enjoy.”
Chef Emerald walked slowly along the length of the table arranged in front of her, until she reached a basket of ingredients at the end. She reached in and removed a large red pepper.
“I hope you all are in the mood for something adventurous, because I’ve got a real treat for you all!” the chef announced. “Today, I’m going to reveal the well-kept secret recipe for my signature stuffed pepper supreme!”
The applause began again, redoubled in its intensity; whenever Chef Emerald revealed one of her secret signature recipes, it was an event that set the whole Equestrian culinary community abuzz.
“Now, anypony can make stuffed peppers,” Chef Emerald continued. “Everypony knows how to hollow out a pepper and fill it with their own choice of ingredients. There are hundreds of recipes, and thousands of different flavor combinations.”
She smiled broadly. “But you all want to know how I make my secret stuffing, right?”
Chef Emerald winced as the force of another cheer almost deafened her.
“Well alright then,” she said calmly as she cut open one of her peppers. “I use a zesty pilaf recipe I invented myself. Begin with half a cup of wild rice, and then we add some texture with a little millet and sunflower seed…”
The audience watched silently as the chef mixed together a variety of secret ingredients, creating one of her many world-famous gourmet delights in front of their eyes.
“Now we’ve gotten the base together, but what good is it without a little kick to it?” Chef Emerald asked her audience. “I’ve prepared some seasoning here with a little salt and black pepper, some paprika, and a dash of dried thyme. It’s not excessively spicy, but it will give the dish the flavor it needs to make a pony sit up and take notice!”
Chef Emerald measured out a small portion of her seasoning, pouring it into a tiny bowl. She lifted it over her dish, but hesitated before adding it.
“And now, ponies in the audience, you know how this part works!” she laughed. “I can’t spice up a dish without a little pizzazz! I want everypony to say it together, on my cue. Three, two, one…”
With a flourish, Chef Emerald poured the seasoning onto her gourmet recipe, grinning as the audience cried out her famous catchphrase.
“Bing Bang ZAM!”
Several hundred miles away, a unicorn named Flim spit his coffee all over the television screen. He leapt out of his overstuffed armchair, staring at the chef depicted in the image as she merrily continued with her recipe.
“Flam!” Flim called. “Come in here! Hurry!”
Another unicorn, nearly identical to Flim save for his bushy red mustache, trotted into the room. “What is it, brother?” he asked. “You sound upset.”
“I am upset!” Flim said loudly, stomping his forehooves. “Do you know who this pony on TV is, Flam?”
Flam squinted, scrutinizing the image. “Isn’t that some famous chef?” he asked finally.
“Correct,” said Flim. “Usually, I don’t give a hill of beans what these highbrow ponies do, but the chef has done something absolutely atrocious.”
“What was it?” Flam asked. “And how did she get away with it on national television.”
“Watch!” Flim urged. “She’s about to do it again!”
Flim and Flam watched as Chef Emerald picked up another seasoning. “Time to spice this up a little further,” she said to her audience. “Say it with me!”
“Bing Bang ZAM!”
Flam gasped dramatically, backing away from the television as if fearing it would physically harm him.
“Did… did she just say…”
“She did, Flam!” Flim announced. “She used our catchphrase! She used good old ‘Bing Bang Zam!’”.
Flam shook his head in disbelief. “I… I think we should be quite indignant about this breach of our intellectual property, Flim,” he said.
“And rightly so, Flam!” Flim affirmed. “In fact, indignant is not a strong enough word. We should be outraged! Why, our whole advertising spiel would be nothing without our catchphrase! We’d never have sold half the merchandise that we have over the years without an exciting, in-your-face kind of phrase to get the consumers excited.”
“But this chef is a very famous pony,” Flam pointed out. “If she continues to use that phrase, ponies will think we stole it from her! Our marketing scheme will go down the tubes in a matter of months, and before you know it, the two of us will be washing dishes in some run-down diner in the back alleys of Manehattan again.”
The twin unicorns frowned, staring at the television, where Chef Emerald continued adding the finishing touches to her culinary masterpiece.
“I have an idea, Flam,” Flim said suddenly. “A wonderful, fantastically over-the-top idea.”
“Well, don’t leave me in the dark, brother,” Flam replied. “What is it?”
“We should sue her!” Flim announced. “You and I will take this matter to court! We will wrestle our catchphrase right out of Chef Emerald’s oh so talented hooves!”
“I think you’re forgetting one thing, Flim,” Flam said. “Emerald is the most famous chef in Equestria. Surely, she’ll have the resources and the power to gain the upper hand in a court situation. We, on the other hand, probably can’t even afford a lawyer.”
“Who needs a lawyer?” Flim asked. “Brother of mine, did you forget that we are the two slipperiest salesponies in all of Equestria? Why, with your quick wits, and my silver tongue, the two of us can take on any stuffy old windbag of a lawyer that Chef Emerald can supply. And think about it; a case like this will be all over the news, all across Equestria! After all, it’s not every day two little-known salesponies sue a celebrity. If we win, the publicity will be phenomenal! I can see the headlines now.”
Flam grinned. “As usual, brother, your marketing sense is top notch,” he declared. “The media will go berserk when they hear about the two of us dragging the chef into a petty case like this. If we win, not only will be have the exclusive rights to our catchphrase, but the mere process of winning it back from Chef Emerald will be the greatest advertising scheme Equestria has ever seen. All we have to do is make it look like we’re the victimized ponies in this situation, and our popularity will skyrocket.”
“…At the possible expense of some of Chef Emerald’s reputation, of course,” Flim chuckled. “But with notoriety like hers, she can afford to part with a little of her boundless popularity. Don’t you think so, Flam?”
“I do think so, Flim. After all, we’ve been using our catchphrase for ages. We won’t let our rights be taken away just because our opponent is more popular than we are.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Flim asked. “Let’s began drawing up the paperwork right now. In a few days, Chef Emerald is going to be in for a nasty surprise.”
The twins chuckled at their latest and greatest scheme as they flicked off the cooking show and trotted from the room.
“Oh dear. Oh dear. She is not going to like this. No sir.”
A dark blue pegasus with a clipboard cutie mark continued to mutter nervously as he trotted down the dark hallway in the back of the studio, a large envelope clutched in his mouth. He listened to the sounds of the audience in the distance, chattering as they slowly filed out of the seating area. It had been a great show, as always, but the successful event had done nothing to calm the poor pony’s nerves.
“Why do I have to be the one to deliver the news to her?” he mumbled aloud. Talking to himself was a nervous habit he’d developed in recent years. “I can’t take the stress of dealing with her on a normal day-to-day basis anymore, and now I have to tell her about this?”
The pegasus paused to brush a few strands of his mane out of his face, nearly knocking his spectacles loose as he did so. He didn’t even notice the drab new color anymore; the rich brown that his mane had once sported was now all but completely replaced with dull grey. It was a shame; typically, a pony his age should only be showing the first signs of physical decline, but stress had accelerated it rather alarmingly.
But such is life when you are the manager to Chef Emerald, one of the most ill-tempered mares in Equestria.
“How can she be so welcoming on stage?” he continued, as if expecting the empty hall to respond. “It’s all an act, of course, but I’ve never seen anypony so good at pretending to be nice.”
He shuddered, taking the envelope from his mouth and reading the enclosed message for the fourth time, just to make absolutely sure he had properly understood its meaning.
“I can only imagine what she’s going to do to me when she hears about this…” he groaned.
At the end of the hall stood a single door. The pegasus knew Chef Emerald was behind it, relaxing in her dressing room after her latest live cooking show. Shakily, he reached up and knocked on the solid wood.
No response. He knocked again, louder this time.
“Come in already!”
The pegasus winced and pushed open the door. Chef Emerald sat upon a small cushioned stool in front of the mirror, unbuttoning the clasps on her bulky chef’s coat. She paid absolutely no attention to her manager, although it was perfectly obvious that she was aware of his presence.
The pegasus adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, hoping the chef would acknowledge his arrival, but she just tossed her coat over her shoulder and proceeded to begin brushing her mane.
“Um… excuse me, Emerald?”
“It’s Chef Emerald!” Emerald cried, pounding her front hooves on the table in front of the mirror. “By Celestia’s mane, Steve, when are you going to learn to call me by my proper title? I’m the most famous chef in Equestria and I expect to be treated as such!”
“S-sorry, Chef Emerald,” her manager replied, not even bothering to point out that his name was not Steve, or for that matter, anything close to it. “P-please forgive me, just a slip of the tongue. I promise, I’ll remember to—”
“Why are you here, anyway?” Chef Emerald yelled, cutting him off. “You know I don’t like to be disturbed after a show, Steve. I’m far too drained from creating yet another of Equestria’s most spectacular culinary masterpieces.”
“Yes, Chef Emerald, I’m aware, and I’m very sorry to disturb you,” the manager replied. “But a matter of some importance has suddenly surfaced, and I’m afraid it concerns you.”
Chef Emerald groaned, spinning in her chair to face the pegasus. “Fine, what is it?” she asked. “Do I need to provide a signature to have my show featured on yet another television network?”
“No ma’am,” the manager replied. “This is quite different. It seems that you’ve… or maybe we’ve… been, um… sued.”
Chef Emerald blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“We’ve been sued, Chef Emerald,” the manager repeated. “We received a letter from some pair of ponies going by ‘The Flim Flam Brothers’. Apparently, they were in some way offended by the content of your show. And they have decided to file a lawsuit against the Chef Emerald Show and take the matter to court.”
Chef Emerald slowly rose from her chair, and walked over to her manager. She snatched the letter from his hooves and examined it closely. And then she tore it to pieces, screaming with rage.
“This is all your fault, Steve!” Emerald cried. “You are supposed to be in charge of making sure my show brings only positive attention! Why in the name of Discord’s mismatched antlers do I keep you around if you can’t even do that right?!”
Emerald’s manager cowered beneath her. “I’m sorry, Chef Emerald! The topic of the case is not something I could have prepared for. They claim you have stolen their catchphrase.”
“Bing Bang Zam?” Emerald asked, incredulous. “That phrase has always been mine! It’s the audience’s favorite part of the performance. It’s the only moment of excitement in the entire show!”
“I-I’m aware, Chef Emerald,” the manager replied. “Minor as it may seem, without your catchphrase, our ratings would go down the tubes. Perhaps we could negotiate with these Flim Flam Brothers, and prevent this situation from getting out of hoof. We really don’t need to spend the time and money to—”
The manager stopped speaking when he realized Chef Emerald was no longer listening. A huge, wicked grin had spread across her face.
“Chef Emerald? Are you alright?”
“Oh, we’re going to court, Steve,” Chef Emerald said quietly. “And we are going to put those Fim Fam whatsits in their place.”
“Right, court it is,” the manager sighed. “Let me just start looking for a lawyer, and—”
“No need,” Emerald said. “Just wait right here.”
Obediently, the manager planted his rump on the carpet and waited.
Chef Emerald trotted to her desk and grabbed her phone. She smiled smugly as she waited for the pony on the other end to answer.
Emerald’s manager waited uncomfortably, only able to hear Emerald’s side of the conversation.
“Hello… yes, this is Emerald… yes, that Emerald… yes, it has been a long time… listen, I need a favor… that’s right, and it’s a really petty case too. I want to crush the idiots who dragged me into this… really? Wonderful… right, see you soon.”
Emerald hung up the phone. “Our troubles are over, Steve,” she announced.
“Emer… I mean, Chef Emerald? Who did you just contact?” the manager asked hesitantly.
Before Emerald could answer, there was a bright flash outside the dressing room door, followed by a series of soft knocks.
“That was fast,” Emerald commented. “Come in!”
The door opened, and a white unicorn stallion strode into the room. He was tall and thin, and his mane and tail were such a light shade of grey that for a moment, the manager was convinced they were white as well. The stallion moved with an air of grace and confidence as he stepped almost fluidly in front of Emerald. The manager got a look at his Cutie Mark; it appeared to be a tiny, golden shield.
“Emerald,” said the newcomer in a quiet, smooth voice. “How good to see you again.”
Emerald smiled. “Yes, and the same to you, my friend. I always wondered if I’d need your services, and it looks like today’s the day.”
She turned to the manager, who still sat slightly hunched over on the carpet, glancing between Emerald and the tall, suave Stallion. “This is my manager, Steve,” she explained. “He handles the boring paperwork end of the job, and it’s because of his gross negligence that we’re in this mess in the first place.”
The manager dared not argue with Emerald. He just watched as the other stallion turned and nodded in greeting.
“And Steve,” Emerald continued, “this is Reasonable Doubt, the greatest defense attorney this side of Equestria, and a trusted old friend of mine. The two of us go way back.”
For a moment, Emerald trailed off, reflecting on days gone by. “Anyway, he’ll be more than happy to help us win this case,” she continued, “and teach those Film Flame Brothers a lesson about messing with Chef Emerald.”
“It… It’s Flim Flam Brothers, Chef Emerald…”
“Did I ask for your input?” the chef snarled at her manager. “You’ve caused enough damage today, Steve. Just go back to your office and be glad I don’t fire you on the spot!”
“Okay…” the manager mumbled. “But are you sure you two have the whole court case thing under control?”
“You have nothing to worry about, my friend,” said Reasonable Doubt in his strangely soothing voice. “I am quite experienced in this. Emerald and I will take care of everything.”
“Right!” Emerald agreed loudly. “Now get out of here!”
“Yes, Chef Emerald!” the manager squeaked. The pegasus jumped into the air and fluttered from the room, leaving the raging earth pony behind as he darted to his office as quickly as his wings would carry him.
Media crews swarmed around the Fillydelphia courthouse like ants around a discarded apple core, pushing through the crowd of curious citizens as they struggled to get a good shot of the building’s façade. One intrepid reported broke through the masses, and immediately, her camera crew began recording.
“Good afternoon, fillies and gentlecolts,” she began. “Today, we come to you live from Fillydelphia, where a surprising trial is about to unfold. This building, one of the oldest courthouses in Equestria, has seen its share of cases, from silly to downright shocking. And today, the trial beginning in a few minutes can only be considered to be a little bit of both.”
A civilian wandered into the shot, and the reported hastily pushed him away so that he wouldn’t obscure the view of the courthouse.
“The pony on trial today…” she continued, “…is none other than the nationally renowned Chef Emerald, star of the appropriately named ‘Chef Emerald Show’. Let’s see if we can catch a glimpse of… oh, here she comes now!”
The camera panned wildly before finally coming to rest on the three ponies ascending the courthouse steps. Emerald and Reasonable Doubt trotted confidently in front, with Emerald’s manager slinking along behind.
“I do hope you and your lawyer are appropriately prepared for your case, Chef Emerald,” the manager said quietly. “I, of course, have complied some data regarding your past use of your famous catchphrase and any documentation of—”
“Oh, didn’t we tell you, Steve?” Chef Emerald laughed, cutting the pegasus off. “Reasonable Doubt has everything planned out already. We won’t be needing your input. Besides, Reasonable Doubt’s decided you’d be more valuable simply providing some witness testimony for us or something. Just sit quietly at the table and let the two of us call the shots until then.”
The manager blanched. “B-but Chef Emerald! I’m your manager! Surely I will need to—”
“It’s nothing personal,” Reasonable Doubt said, giving the distraught stallion a sympathetic smile. “We’ve simply determined that the additional support you could provide from a defense team position would be of no practical use to the forwarding of our case. As a witness, all you have to do is provide the information I ask for, and Emerald’s case will do better. Don’t worry, I’ll explain what you need to do a little later.”
“Yeah, you can be a blundering idiot sometimes, and we don’t need that today,” Chef Emerald added. “Far better to leave everything in Reasonable Doubt’s hooves than yours.”
The manager’s wings drooped. “If you say so, Chef Emerald.”
Sighing, he followed the chef and her lawyer through the grand vaulted entryway of the courthouse.
Twelve ponies walked in single file, marching down the long hallway to the courtroom. Each of them had been screened to ensure they had no prior connection to the trial that was about to unfold, and were now preparing to serve as the jury. The first eleven ponies remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they speculated about the topic of the trial. The twelfth pony, however, seemed much more interested in her surroundings than her situation.
Juror number twelve was a grey pegasus with a blond mane. She turned her head this way and that, taking in the sights of the ancient and historic building around her with her strangely misaligned eyes.
“Where did you say we are again?” She asked the mare in front of her.
“Derpy, I told you twice already!” replied juror eleven, a yellow earth pony with an orange mane and carrots for a cutie mark. “We’re at the courthouse. We both got picked for jury duty.”
“Oh,” Derpy replied, scrunching up her face as if concentrating hard on something. “Hey Carrot-top, what’s jury duty?”
Carrot-top groaned and placed a hoof against her forehead. “It means we have to listen to the trial and decide if the defendant is guilty or innocent,” she replied.
“You mean like when we’re watching afternoon TV?” Derpy asked excitedly.
Carrot-top rolled her eyes. “Well… yes… except you can’t yell out your opinion when you figure something out about the case.”
“Do we still get popcorn while we watch?”
Carrot-top glanced at the pony behind her, as if checking that the mare’s question was really sincere. “No. No popcorn.”
Derpy hung her head in disappointment. “Awww…”
“Now shut up, we’re here,” Carrot-top said.
The twelve ponies filed into the two long benches reserved for the jury. Most of them remained quiet or whispered anxiously among themselves. Derpy sat at the end of the row and continued obliviously scanning her surroundings. She stared out at the large audience of assembled ponies seated in the gallery to her left, checking if she recognized anypony. There weren’t any familiar faces.
Carrot-top’s mood was not quite as bright as her companion’s. Being stuck on jury duty was bad enough. Being stuck on jury duty with Derpy, who she got quite enough of in everyday life, was even less appealing.
Carrot-top sighed and tried to look at the bright side. She supposed this was as good a time as any for jury duty; she couldn’t exactly work at the market today anyway, as the local carpenter was still repairing the carrot stand that Derpy had managed to reduce to splinters the previous week.
The earth pony was shaken from her thoughts by a hoof prodding her shoulder.
“Hey,” Derpy whispered, pointing to the judge. “Why is that pony sitting way up there?”
“That’s the judge,” Carrot-top whispered back. “He’s in charge of the trial.”
“Why is his mane so… curly?”
“That’s a wig. Sometimes judges wear powdered wigs.”
“Why does he have a hammer? Is he gonna throw it at somepony if they misbehave?”
Carrot-top gritted her teeth. “Will you please be quiet?” she asked. “Just sit still, listen to the trial, and then we can go home.”
Derpy crossed her forelegs indignantly. “Well alright, miss Grumpy Pants. Sheesh.”
The crowd seated in the gallery turned as the front doors swung open. There was murmuring among them as Chef Emerald trotted down the long carpet and took a seat at the defense’s table. Her enigmatic lawyer appeared perfectly calm as he seated himself right next to her, and the manager took a seat at the far end of the table, quivering nervously.
A few moments passed, and then the doors opened again, giving the audience their first look at the previously unknown prosecution.
Flim and Flam wore identical smiles as the two of them marched into the courtroom. All eyes were on them, evidently surprised to see a pair of common salesponies were the plaintiffs, and even more surprised at their apparent lack of a lawyer. Completely undeterred, the two unicorns approached the judge’s bench at the front of the room. They paused for a moment by the defense’s table.
“You must be the Flim Flam Brothers,” Reasonable Doubt said.
“Correct, sir!” Flim said. “And you, I take it, are Chef Emerald’s lawyer.”
“And so you…” Flam added, reaching forward and lightly bopping the chef on the nose, “…must be the chef herself. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
Chef Emerald just frowned. Flim and Flam exchanged a glance, and trotted to the prosecution’s table.
“Don’t let them get under your skin,” Reasonable Doubt whispered to Emerald. “The two of them are acting as their own lawyers. We’ll have this case wrapped up in five minutes.”
“Right. Sorry,” Emerald murmured.
Finally, everypony was situated. The voices in the gallery died down, and attention fell on the judge.
“Alright, everypony,” said the judge in a bored tone. “This session of the Equestrian court will now come to order. Today, we are hearing the case of…”
The judge paused, scrutinized the paper for a moment, gave a tremendous yawn, and continued.
“…the case of Mr. Flim and Mr. Flam, also known as the Flim Flam Brothers, vs. the staff of the Chef Emerald Show. Prosecution, you may present your case.”
The judge rested his head on one of his forehooves, staring dully at the prosecution’s table.
“Looks like you’re up, brother!” Flam said, clapping Flim on the back. “Knock ‘em dead!”
Flim smiled, grabbed his carefully written opening speech, and turned to face the jury.
“Fillies and gentlecolts, today, we come to shed some light on a true travesty!” he began. “It’s an unspeakable horror! An outright attack on the rights of the good, common working pony. Why, to think a celebrity, a pony who we have come to know and love through our television screens across the nation, would stoop to such a low is—”
“Objection, Your Honor,” said Reasonable Doubt smoothly. “This monologue is, thus far, serving no purpose beyond being a petty attempt at making my client look bad.”
“Quite right,” the judge mumbled. “Get to the point please, Mr. Flim.”
“Of course,” said Flim politely, completely undeterred. “What I was about to say is this; your beloved Chef Emerald is not as honest as she seems. Perhaps she isn’t the glamorous chef we are all familiar with outside the studio. Fillies and gentlecolts, I believe our so-called celebrity is no more than a common thief!”
There were several muffled gasps from the gallery. Emerald glared at Flim, but Reasonable Doubt put his hoof on her shoulder, silently reminding her to hold her temper.
“I see,” said the judge, slouching in his chair. “And exactly what is it you are accusing her of stealing, Mr. Flim?”
“I’m getting to that, Your Honor,” Flim replied. “Recently, my brother Flam and I discovered something shocking. Emerald has taken from us one of our most valuable possessions. Without it, our sales techniques lose all their luster. She has stolen… our catchphrase!”
A confused murmur filled the courtroom. The judge raised his eyebrows.
“Your… catchphrase?” he repeated. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Mr. Flim.”
“Then allow me to enlighten you!” Flim cried. “Anypony who is a fan of the Chef Emerald Show has no doubt heard her use a certain exclamation whenever she spices up her culinary creation. You all know what it is; don’t pretend you’re ignorant. Here, I’ll prove it. Somepony, anypony, tell me what phrase I’m thinking of! How about you!”
Flim pointed to a random stallion in the third row of the gallery. Startled at being suddenly singled out by the prosecution, he sank lower in his chair.
“Come on, boy, speak up!” Flim urged. “It’s just three little words.”
“She… she says ‘Bing Bang Zam…’” the stallion muttered.
“Exactly!” Flim said, turning back to the judge and jury. “For the duration of her show, Chef Emerald has been using that phrase as part of her performance. But what you may not know is that everypony’s favorite chef is not the original creator of that phrase. In fact, she stole it from us!”
“That’s a lie!”
All eyes in the courtroom shifted from Flim to Chef Emerald, who was pointing a hoof accusingly at Flim. After a moment, she realized her gaffe, mumbled an apology, and sunk back into her seat.
“I apologize for my client’s mistake, Your Honor,” Reasonable Doubt said, seemingly not concerned about Emerald’s outburst. “Our disagreement with the prosecution’s claims will be more properly phrased in our opening statements.”
“Whatever,” said the judge. “Mr. Flim, are you quite finished?”
“Nearly, Your Honor,” said Flim, grinning smugly at the defense’s table. “My brother and I have brought our case here, before the impartial eye of the Equestrian justice system, with the intent to right this wrong. We refuse to stand here and allow another pony to make use of our intellectual property! Why, simply because of Chef Emerald’s fame, ponies might start assuming that we stole our catchphrase from her. Today, we’re here to prove that the common, respectable citizen of Equestria does not have to relinquish what is rightfully theirs to a cultural icon! We are entitled to the use of our catchphrase, and Chef Emerald is not, and we are prepared to defend that claim! We won’t let big names crush our spirit! We won’t give in to—”
“Objection, Your Honor. The prosecution is rambling needlessly again.”
“Sustained,” said the judge. “Thank you, Mr. Flim. I believe we have gotten the gist of your message.”
Flim bowed theatrically and returned to his seat. Flam grinned and nodded in approval of his brother’s performance.
The judge shifted in his chair, turning to face Chef Emerald and her associates. “Alright, defense. Opening statements. And try to make it a little quicker than the prosecution, please.”
“Of course, Your Honor,” said Reasonable Doubt, grabbing his notes with magic and trotting to the front. “Never fear, I shall be quite concise.”
Reasonable Doubt stood in front of the judge’s bench and turned to the jury. “Good afternoon, fillies and gentlecolts,” he began, nodding in greeting to the ponies assembled before him. “Today, I stand before you in defense of a pony with whom you are all familiar, whom I believe has been falsely accused. Chef Emerald’s television show and all related matters, including that of the catchphrase in question, were legally obtained. The most likely possibility is that the Flim Flam Brothers acquired their catchphrase independently, not realizing it already had its origins in the Chef Emerald Show.”
Reasonable Doubt glanced at the Flim Flam Brothers before continuing. “Furthermore, a bit of recent research on the prosecution seems to indicate that the Flim Flam Brothers past marketing endeavors may not have been completely honest, and—”
“Objection!” Flam called. “There is no proof of any unwholesome marketing on our part. Sure, some of our products receive less-than-glowing public feedback, but I hardly think you can go so far as to call us con-artists.”
“Not to mention, it’s irrelevant to the case at hoof,” Flim added.
Reasonable Doubt smiled. “Quite right, gentlecolts,” he admitted. “Allow me to retract my previous comments. What I was trying to say was that Flim and Flam’s history, based on a brief study of their previous sales records, is… somewhat tarnished, so to speak. And as we know, a dubious record does lead to more suspicion.”
Reasonable Doubt cleared his throat. “Although I believe this matter was perhaps just a big misunderstanding and may or may not truly be deserving of a lawsuit, there is the possibility that Flim and Flam are making their claims up. Regardless of the real scenario, or the prosecution’s real motives, I shall nevertheless defend Chef Emerald’s right to the catchphrase used by the Chef Emerald Show, with use of the fullest extent of testimony and documentation available.”
The judge nodded. “Thank you. Now, let’s begin with the proceedings. Does either side have any evidence to present?”
“We do, Your Honor,” Reasonable Doubt said. “I have with me an audio recording of one of the earliest episodes of the Chef Emerald Show. This is important in demonstrating that Chef Emerald has in fact been using her catchphrase since the beginning of the program’s production several years ago.”
Reasonable Doubt placed the tape into a player, and a somewhat low-quality but still decipherable recording began to play.
“Hello, Fillies and Gentecolts, Welcome to the Chef Emerald Show!” came the voice of Chef Emerald from the speakers of the outdated device. The mare sounded younger, but just as peppy as she often did in her more recent shows. The recording went on to play the audio version of an episode in which the chef apparently prepared her now-famous carrot cake recipe.
“Now, listen closely,” Reasonable Doubt said as the clip neared its conclusion.
“Now, what we really need is a way to make the carrot cake more moist, without dulling the flavor,” the voice of the chef continued. “In fact, there’s a way to accomplish that while making the cake even more exciting! Here I have some fresh pineapple, shredded up and ready to mix into the batter. Now, everypony say it with me!”
The chef in the recording added the pineapple to the batter as she and the audience gleefully shouted the same three words.
“Bing Bang ZAM!”
Reasonable Doubt shut off the recording. “This recording is from over three years ago,” he stated. “Unless Flim and Flam can prove that they’ve been using the phrase even longer, somehow, then the decision should really be quite apparent.”
Flim and Flam laughed. “Oh, don’t think you’ve outsmarted us so easily, my dear stallion,” Flam replied. “We too have evidence indicating that we are in fact the original owners of the catchphrase!”
Emerald frowned deeply and cast a glance at Reasonable Doubt. The lawyer looked quite unconcerned.
“Of course, gentlecolts,” he said politely. “Let’s see it.”
Flam stood and used his magic to lift a long, think canister than had been resting next to the prosecution’s table. He removed the lid and extracted a poster from the interior, unfurling it to reveal a colorful advertisement for one of the brothers’ many products. The ad was gaudy; bright colors and spiky text bubbles worked together to draw the eye. And one exclamation, positioned squarely over the heads of the brothers depicted in the poster, clearly spelled out the very same catchphrase.
Flim pointed to the date as his brother held the poster aloft. “As you can see, this poster is from our summer sales event extravaganza from the same year as Chef Emerald’s recording! And I can assure you, we’ve been using our catchphrase since long before this was even printed!”
“But it is the earliest actual proof you can provide,” Reasonable Doubt said. “Not to mention the poster only lists a season, not an exact date. Based on that alone, it’s impossible to prove it was used earlier than the recording we provided.”
“But it also means the evidence is vague enough that it’s impossible to disprove it!” Flim said triumphantly. “And that means we’re—”
“…Right back where we started,” groaned the judge, slumping in his seat.
“Exactly!” Flim added, apparently not at all concerned. He turned to the defense team. “Not so easy, is it?” he asked, chuckling. “I’m sure you ponies and your fancy lawyer thought you’ve have conclusively outsmarted us by now.”
“But for a couple of salesponies, we’re smarter than you think!” Flam added.
Chef Emerald gritted her teeth. “I swear, if you two keep up this infantile taunting, I’m gonna—”
“Order, all of you! Stop this foolishness at once. Order!” the judge commanded, banging his gavel.
“Um, excuse me, Mr. Judge?” came a high voice from the other side of the room.
The argument stopped, and all the ponies in the courtroom turned to look at the grey pegasus on the jury bench who had spoken up.
“Yeah, um, I was wondering…” Derpy continued, “… what do you use the hammer for? I asked my friend Carrot-top earlier, but she didn’t know. I figured you were gonna throw it at somepony if they broke the rules, but so far, you’ve just been hitting the desk with it. And the desk isn’t even broken, so that seems kind of counterproductive.”
The judge stared at Derpy, dumbfounded to the point that it took a moment for him to find his voice.
“It… it’s just to make a loud noise to get everypony’s attention,” he mumbled.
Derpy shrugged. “Well, then why bother? Can’t you just hit the stand with your hoof or something? It’d make close to the same sound.”
The judge blinked. “Ma’am, uh, please refrain from interrupting during the trial. The jury isn’t really supposed to do that…”
Derpy scrunched up her face. “Well, that’s silly!” she said indignantly. “How are we supposed to know if it was Colonel Mustard in the library with a candlestick if we can’t even ask questions?”
The judge placed his face in his hooves. “You know what?” he asked quietly. “Let’s break for lunch. The trial will resume in one hour. The prosecution, the defense, and the jury each have a private room in which to eat.”
Flim and Flam nodded in unison. “See you later, our esteemed opponents,” Flim said mockingly to the chef and her team. “I hope you can manage to put together a better plan by the time the trial resumes, or you can kiss that catchphrase goodbye.”
Emerald’s eye twitched, but she held her tongue as she watched the twins chuckle as they trotted from the room.
Flim and Flam were still laughing as they arrived at their private chamber for lunch. Flam quickly shut the door with a flicker of green magic, and the two unicorns seated themselves on either side of the table.
“We’re really getting the chef a bit worked up, aren’t we Flim?” Flam asked.
“It seems so, Flam,” Flim replied. “But that might prove useful to us. One way to get the jury on our side is to make the defendant less appealing to them. Luckily, Emerald’s doing half our job for us!”
“I’m a bit surprised at their lawyer, though,” Flam commented. “I assumed he was going to be more concrete in his attempts to outsmart us, but so far, we’ve matched him blow for blow.”
“They’re probably saving their best material for later,” Flim said. “We still need to step up our game if we’re hoping to win this trial.”
Flam tapped a hoof to his chin for a few moments. “There’s really no way to prove which side owned the catchphrase first though, it there?” he asked.
“Oh, of course not,” said Flam. “We have no idea if Emerald used the catchphrase in any of her shows before the one the lawyer presented. You and I know, of course, that we’ve been using that phrase since we were just foals.”
“Yes, I remember the good old days,” Flim said, reminiscing about the brothers’ earliest sales ventures. “You know Flam, a lot has changed in the world of salesmanship since you and I were just chipper young colts. True, our methods have… evolved a bit over the years, simply to keep up with the competition, but riling up the audience with a good catchphrase is one strategy that never changes.”
“We can’t win the trial with our memories, Flim,” Flam replied. “You and I know this phrase is rightfully ours, but if we don’t convince the jury of that it won’t matter in the slightest.”
Flim chuckled. “Both sides are struggling to find any concrete evidence about the phrase’s owners at all,” he explained. “In all honesty, the judge is right; this case doesn’t belong in court. But our business is shaky as it is; we need that catchphrase more than Emerald does, and in a trial like this one, the only way to get what you want is to convince the jury you deserve it more than your opponent.”
Flam nodded. “So what you’re saying is… we need to go out there and put on a real show if we want to stand a chance!”
“Exactly!” Flim announced. “Think about it brother! You and I are two ponies that know how to get a crowd going! The defense team, on the other hand, is a lot of shifty and unfriendly characters, and we need to go about our witness interviews in such a way that we make the jury feel the same way we do. Forget the hard facts; the most important thing in this case is charisma, which is something you and I have plenty of!”
“Bending the rules and stretching the facts?” Flam asked with a smirk. “This sounds a lot like most of our recent advertising gimmicks, brother!”
Memories of their many bygone sales escapades led the two unicorns into haughty laughter once again.
Chef Emerald pounded the table with a hoof so hard that her lunch was nearly catapulted off the surface.
“Just who do those Frim Frame Brothers think they are?!” she cried. “Not only have they brought this idiotic case to court, but they have the gall to mock me while they prosecute! Do they even know who they’re dealing with? What makes them think they can stand up to a pony as talented and famous as me?”
“I told you we needed to plan out your case more!” Emerald’s manager said, flapping his wings nervously as he sat. “The Flim Flam Brothers may not have a lawyer, but neither of them are particularly dumb ponies either. At this rate, we may actually have to consider the possibility of losing the case!”
Chef Emerald gave her manager a dumbfounded look.
“Surely you can’t be serious Steve,” she said. “Those two crazy con-artists may be a pain in the flank, but to even consider that they will win the trial is an absolutely ludicrous notion. Nopony will be able to defeat Reasonable Doubt, especially not a pair of washed-up salesponies like those two.”
“But you two hardly spent any time discussing this case!” the manager complained. “Not to mention you still haven’t actually told me anything about Reasonable Doubt himself.”
“Yeah, and we’re keeping it that way,” Emerald snorted.
“Now now, Emerald,” Reasonable Doubt scolded as he calmly ate his daisy sandwich. “Your manager is on our side, remember? It would be quite unsporting of us to leave our own team member in the dark.”
Emerald scowled. “He’s hardly on our side,” she grumbled. “I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just leave him back at the studio.”
“Because we need him,” Reasonable Doubt said. “His witness testimony will be an important factor in our case.”
Emerald rolled her eyes. “You know that isn’t true,” she scoffed. “We could have no real case at all and still win the trial. His testimony, and everything else for that matter, is just frivolous.”
“Well, yes, but we still have to make it look convincing for the plan to work,” Reasonable Doubt replied.
“What in Celestia’s name are you two talking about?” Emerald’s manager asked desperately. “Aren’t you taking this seriously? We’ve been sued, and if we act like it’s a joke and don’t defend ourselves properly, we may as well forfeit right now!”
Emerald and Reasonable Doubt exchanged a glance before turning back to the exasperated manager.
“Fine,” Emerald sighed. “I guess we owe him an explanation. Go ahead, Reasonable Doubt.”
“Of course,” said Reasonable Doubt with a curt nod. “You see, my dear Steve, as Emerald has no doubt made apparent to you, my record as a defense lawyer is nearly unparalleled; I only work for specific clients, but when I do, we do not lose.”
The manager blinked. “Okay, so you’re talented,” he admitted. “That still doesn’t explain why you are approaching the case like your victory is already assured.”
“We’re acting like that because technically, it is already assured,” Reasonable Doubt replied. “And that is the detail that, apparently, Emerald was hesitant to share with you.”
The manager raised an eyebrow. “It’s already assured? How so?”
A mysterious little smile crossed the lawyer’s face. “I can win any case I enter because my methodology differs a bit from that of most lawyers,” he explained. “It doesn’t really matter which side presents the better argument when one has the power to magically persuade the jury to rule in favor of the defendant.”
Emerald’s manager nearly choked on his lunch. “Wait, what?”
“It’s quite simple,” Reasonable Doubt continued. “During my closing statements, when appealing to the jury, I use a brief, almost undetectable magic spell that causes my case to suddenly seem a whole lot more plausible in the minds of the affected ponies. They jury hardly needs to deliberate; it quickly becomes clear to them that the defendant is, in fact, innocent.”
“You’re controlling their minds?” the manager asked, apparently horrified.
“Not exactly,” Reasonable Doubt admitted. “It’s not as if I can manipulate ponies like puppets. My power is much more specific; it does not control the minds of ponies, it merely causes certain facts and opinions to suddenly have much more weight, often so much so that it alters their ability to make a decision on the topic of whether the defendant is guilty or innocent.”
“But in order to keep ponies from getting suspicious, we still need to present some sort of case,” Emerald added between bites of her own lunch. “It doesn’t really matter what the content is, we just need to say something so the ponies watching from the gallery don’t get suspicious when we win. Oh, and make sure that the other side doesn’t have any evidence or testimony so strong that it can negate the effects of Reasonable Doubt’s spell.”
The mare put her forehooves behind her head and reclined in her chair. “But, of course, we’ve already taken care of that…” she added with a chuckle.
“But… but you’re cheating, aren’t you?” asked the manager weakly. “How can you be okay with winning the case by this method?”
Emerald laughed darkly. “Welcome to the real world, Steve,” she sneered. “This case was a joke to begin with, so we’re using the method of least resistance to get it out of the way and get on with our lives. Just answer Reasonable Doubt’s pointless questions during the witness testimony like we told you to. All we’re doing is putting on a show for the audience before we win the case by force, so since you insisted on coming along to this silly trial, you get to join in the act.”
Emerald calmly returned to her lunch, leaving her shell-shocked manager to his own thoughts.
In still another room, the jury had seated themselves around a long table. Carrot-top held her head between her front hooves, mortified.
“Derpy, how could you do that?” she moaned. “I told you to be quiet during the case!”
Derpy shrugged nonchalantly as she dug through her mailbag. The mare carried the tattered old sack everywhere, and stored a whole lot more in its depths than just letters. Carrot-top cringed as Derpy extracted an almost disturbingly large muffin from somewhere within and peeled off the tinfoil anxiously.
“Hey, it’s not my fault this trial thingy has such dumb rules,” the pegasus said crossly. “They’re never going to get anything settled if they keep doing things their way. Why do they have to be so complicated?”
“They’re doing things the same way courts always conduct trials!” Carrot-top argued. “If you don’t understand what’s going on, then just sit there and shut up. I know you don’t wanna be here, and neither do I, but disrupting the trial isn’t going to make things go any quicker.”
Derpy tried to reply, but her mouth was so full of muffin that for a moment she looked like a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts. Carrot-top waited as the pegasus futilely attempted to speak, before finally swallowing the tremendous lump of pastry.
“That’s no fun,” Derpy mumbled. “We’re supposed to decide the winner of the trial, right? Our job is important! I’m not just gonna sit there and let them make me feel useless. I’m gonna make sure I am a properly informed jury pony, whether they like it or not!”
Derpy pumped her forehoof in the air triumphantly to emphasize her point and took another bite of her muffin. Carrot-top groaned and placed her chin on the table.
“That’s what I was afraid of…”
The ponies in the court gallery quieted as the defense team trotted back into the courtroom, followed swiftly by the prosecution. The jury arrived last, its twelve ponies filing back into the two long benches.
The judge groaned as he heaved himself up onto the stand. Miserably, he surveyed the courtroom in front of him, watching the disgruntled defendant glare at the two prosecutors, who both looked as haughty as ever. Nothing had changed in the temperament of either side, save for the fact that the pegasus seated with the defense team somehow looked even more nervous than he had before. The judge paid it no heed though; the quicker this farce of a trial was over, the better.
“Court is once again in session,” he announced. “Our next order of business is witness testimony. Defense, if you have a witness, please send them to the stand.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Reasonable Doubt said, smiling politely. “We would like to send the chef’s manager to the stand.”
The manager gulped, looking pleadingly at Reasonable Doubt. The lawyer smiled and motioned to the witness stand with his head.
“Don’t screw this up,” Emerald whispered. “It should be easy enough to testify for us. Just don’t let the Fig Fail Brothers get under your skin when they cross-examine you.”
“Th-that’s ‘Flim Flam Brothers’, Chef Emerald…”
“Just get up there!” Emerald hissed.
The manager squeaked nervously and fluttered to the witness stand.
“Fillies and gentlecolts of the jury,” Reasonable Doubt began, “I would like to introduce Mr. Steve, Chef Emerald’s manager.”
“Uh… my name’s not—”
“Steve here has been handling the program’s behind-the-scenes work for quite some time,” Reasonable Doubt continued. “Tell us, Steve, how long have you and Chef Emerald been in business together?”
“Well… I suppose it’s been nearly four years now,” the manager said pensively. “I was pretty new in the business, looking for an up-and-coming star to try to take to the top of the television ratings boards. Emerald was becoming quite popular for her amazing culinary skills, and after we teamed up, the show just took off.”
Reasonable Doubt nodded. “Very nice. Now that you have confirmed you and Emerald have worked together for the duration of her professional career, can you tell us how long she has intentionally used the phrase ‘Bing Bang Zam’ as part of her performance?”
In truth, Emerald’s manager wasn’t sure precisely when the chef’s use of the phrase had started. It was just a bit of improvisation that had come out in one of their first broadcasts, and it caught on after that. The manager caught sight of Emerald’s fiery glare from her seat at the defense table and decided, in the interest of avoiding future bodily harm, to round his estimate up a bit.
“I… I’m quite sure the catchphrase been part of the show since the very beginning,” he said shakily. “It’s one of the elements that make the Chef Emerald Show as much about entertainment as it is about cooking.”
The manager watched as the chef’s glare was replaced with a satisfied smirk.
“Excellent,” said Reasonable Doubt. “You’ve made it quite clear to us that the use of the catchphrase was not added at a later date, or taken from any outside source, but instead was created live during the very first broadcasts of the show. Am I correct in this assumption?”
Emerald’s manager just nodded.
“Very well,” Reasonable Doubt said. “No further questions, Mr. Steve. You may return to your—”
“Not so fast, Mr. Doubt!” Flim said dramatically. “My brother and I would like to ask the witness a few questions before he steps down.”
“Of course,” said Reasonable Doubt, backing away. “The floor is yours.”
Flim and Flam rose from their seats and walked slowly out in front of the witness stand. Emerald’s manager began to sweat and the twins stared at him, eyeing him like predators searching for their prey’s weakness. The two unicorns whispered to one another for a few moments.
“These are interesting claims, Mr. Steve,” Flam said finally. “Answer us this, if you will: after the chef ‘invented’ this phrase, what has your role been in planning its use in the show? Surely, as manager, most of the responsibility for devising methods of increasing popular aspects of the program must rest with you, right?”
“That is correct,” the manager said. “While the majority of the program is run without a script since Chef Emerald merely needs to narrate her actions while cooking, certain parts do need to be written in advance. I make all the deals with advertising companies and potential stations that will air the program, as well as advising Chef Emerald to perform certain actions based on the nature of each performance.”
“And use of ‘Bing Bang Zam’ is one such feature of the script that you typically control?”
“Yes.”
Flam grinned. “And does the chef listen to your advice?”
The manager was caught by surprise by this question.
“I… well, she… um…”
As discreetly as possible, Chef Emerald ran her hoof horizontally across her neck. Her manager took the hint.
“O-of course she does. What reason would she have not to?”
“I see,” said Flam. “Excuse us for a moment, Mr. Steve.”
The twins turned away from the witness to have a hushed discussion.
“We’re not going to get anything out of him,” Flam whispered. “He’s scared to death; it doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s just the chef’s puppet.”
“Then that means…” Flim realized. “…the best way to attempt to make the defense undermine themselves…”
“…is to cross examine the chef herself!” Flam finished.
Flim and Flam broke their huddle and turned back to the manager, who continued to eye them warily.
“You’re excused, Mr. Steve,” Flim said cordially. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Emerald’s manager breathed a sigh of relief and trotted back to the defense table. Reasonable Doubt patted him on the back, and even Emerald looked somewhat pleased.
“Does the defense have any more witnesses to present?” the judge asked as he twirled his gavel on the table absentmindedly.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Your Honor,” Reasonable Doubt replied.
“Fine,” the judge grunted. “Flim and Flam, call your witness.”
“Actually, Your Honor,” Flim said, smiling deviously. “Before we bring in our own witness, we’d like to call Chef Emerald to the stand.”
Chef Emerald, who had been reclining in her chair, sat up rather suddenly.
“Me?”
“Yes ma’am,” said Flim. “If you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to hide, right?”
Ignoring Flim’s sarcastic smile, Chef Emerald rose from her chair and proceeded to the witness stand.
“Now Chef Emerald,” Flim began, “Your show has been very successful these last few years. Other than the catchphrase we’ve been discussing, perhaps you can tell us about the other aspects that made your program one of Equestria’s most popular.”
Emerald glanced at Reasonable Doubt, who shrugged and motioned for her to go ahead and answer.
“Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard, I’m one of the most talented cooks in all of Equestria,” Emerald explained. “I’ve invented dozens of recipes full of exciting ingredients that go well beyond traditional pony faire, and my dishes are often served at upscale eateries. Ponies want to eat, or better yet, learn to prepare the dishes I’ve created, so naturally, my program is popular.”
“I see,” said Flim, nodding in a manner not unlike that of a bored psychoanalyst waiting for his patient to finish rambling. “Anything else?”
Emerald tapped her chin in thought. “Well, a show about cooking isn’t necessarily interesting by itself. Try as they might, the audience watching it on television can’t taste or smell the food, no matter how good it is, so it would be easy to lose their attention if the show didn’t have any pizzazz. Lucky for them, I am a pony with charisma! When I cook, it’s not a demonstration. It’s a performance! It’s an experience!”
Again, Flim nodded. “Is that all?”
Emerald frowned. “What else do you want me to say?”
“Well,” Flim began, smiling deviously as he trotted a bit closer to Emerald’s chair, “I asked about the factors that have made your show popular. Surely your manager, who from what I can tell is a hardworking stallion, must contribute to the process as well.”
Only now did Emerald realize the trap the Flim Flam brothers were attempting to lead her into. She cleared her throat and stretched her most convincing fake smile across her face as she glanced in her manager’s direction.
“Well… well of course Mr. Steve is useful in the show’s success as well,” Emerald stuttered. “What with all his… planning, and, uh… scheduling.”
“I’m sure he is,” Flim agreed. “I was just surprised that, while your manager’s answers seemed to suggest you two working closely together, your answers seemed to place more weight on your own role. I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps one of you isn’t being entirely honest about the way the Chef Emerald show is run.”
Flim flashed a charming smile in the direction of the dozen ponies seated to his right. “I’ll leave the jury to make of that what they will,” he said smoothly. “Thank you, Chef. You’re excused.”
Chef Emerald returned hastily to the defense table. She sat down, shaking with anger for a few moments. Reasonable Doubt placed a hoof on her shoulder, an unspoken reminder for her to calm down.
“Now that that’s out of the way, we’d like to call our own witness,” Flam said.
The judge shrugged. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Permission granted. Let’s just make this trial drag on even longer. Celestia forbid we end it early and open up the courtroom for the hearing of some case that actually matters.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Flim, completely ignoring the judge’s comments. “Now, let’s see, where is our witness? He should be in the gallery…”
The Flim Flam brothers scanned the audience, but there was no sign of the pony they were searching for. The twins exchanged concerned glances.
“I… wonder where he could be…” Flam mumbled, tugging nervously at his collar. “Surely he would have sent some sort of message if he was going to be late…”
There was a quiet gasp from the jury bench.
“I completely forgot!” Derpy announced, fluttering out of her seat and over to the Flim Flam brothers. “Speaking of messages, I have a special delivery for you two! I was supposed to deliver it this morning…”
Ignoring the glares of most of the ponies in the courtroom, Derpy jumped up and fluttered over to the unicorns. She lifted the flap on her bulging mailbag and began to rummage through its contents.
“I really need to organize this,” she mumbled, pushing aside a mountain of envelopes, dozens of colored fliers, and the remains of her breakfast from that morning. “Aah, here it is!”
Derpy produced a battered and slightly stained envelope and handed it to the brothers before returning to her seat. Flam took it and extracted the letter from within.
Dear Flim & Flam,
I know I told you boys I’d be at the trial to tell them ponies all about you two and your crazy little catchphrase. Unfortunately, we’ve had a bit of a family emergency and I won’t be able to make it. You two are bright boys, though, I’m sure you’ll figure something out between when you get this message and the time of the trial!
Regards,
-Big Top
Flim and Flam stared silently at the message, then glanced at the defense table. Emerald and Reasonable Doubt were both smiling smugly, and Emerald’s manager was sinking even deeper into his chair. Wordlessly, the brothers turned away to have yet another hushed conversation.
“We’ve been played for fools, Flim,” Flam stated. “Look at the chef; she’s obviously sabotaged our witness somehow prior to the trial.”
“And the mailmare’s late delivery didn’t help our cause either,” Flim added. “We went from short notice to no notice.”
“What do you propose we do now, brother?” Flam asked.
“We have to continue to roll with the punches,” Flim insisted. “The jury doesn’t know what happened yet, so we can still make this look intentional.”
Flim tucked the letter into his vest pocket and turned to the judge, wearing his usual smile.
“On second thought, Your Honor, we won’t need to call an additional witness,” he said smoothly. “Our case thus far speaks for itself. You may proceed to the next order of business.”
The judge heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s about time. Now, let’s move on to closing statemen—”
“Wait!”
The judge’s brow furrowed as he turned to address the outcry from a certain unruly jury member. Derpy Hooves waved her forelegs frantically, trying to get his attention.
“By Luna’s mane,” the judge grumbled, “what could you possibly want this time?”
Derpy huffed. “We didn’t get to talk about the evidence, so do we at least get to ask the witnesses our questions?”
“I told you before,” the judge growled, “the jury is supposed to just sit there and listen. You will make your decision at the end of the trial based on whatever information was presented to you.”
Derpy scrunched up her face discontentedly. “This court system is so inefficient sometimes!” she complained. “If we could ask questions, we could figure out who the bad guy is right away and send them directly to jail. Do not pass Go, do not collect sixteen-hundred bits.”
Derpy seemed pleased with herself for coming to this conclusion. She crossed her forelegs and smiled haughtily, oblivious to the judge’s glare and Carrot-top’s bewildered look.
“Your opinions notwithstanding…” the judge said through clenched teeth, “…this is an official meeting of the royal court of Equestria, and we will continue to follow all trial procedures whether you like it or not. Is that clear, Miss?”
Derpy responded by sticking out her tongue. The judge ignored her and turned back to the ponies on trial.
“As I was saying, let’s move on to our closing statements. Prosecution, you may address the jury.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Flim. “Just give my brother and I a moment to prepare.”
“Very well,” the judge said. “But hurry up. You have five minutes.”
Flim and Flam huddled together once again, weighing their options.
“What’s left for us to say?” Flam asked quietly. “Sure, we’ve been trying to skew the trial a certain way, but Emerald has just been playing dirty.”
“Focus, brother!” Flim urged. “All that matters here is the jury’s opinion. Remember, the keyword is sympathy. When neither side has any proof, the only way to win is to make the jury think you deserve it!”
“So, it’s time to make ourselves look like helpless victims, and make Emerald look like the embodiment of celebrity entitlement again?”
“Exactly!”
Flim and Flam stood up and marched to the jury bench.
“Fillies and gentlecolts of the jury,” Flim began, annunciating in a slow, grand manner, “today, you have been given a simple task. By the ever mysterious will of fate, it is now the responsibility of you twelve ponies to make a decision. There are two sets of ponies before you today, and only one may walk away with the rights to use the catchphrase we both love so much.”
“Now, some of you may not be sure of your decision,” Flam continued. “Some of you may have difficulty finding what you believe to be the truth through all the evidence and testimony. Some of you may not even care; much like our wonderful judge over there, I expect most of you would like to be somewhere else right now.”
A few members of the jury nodded.
“The last thing we can ask of you today is a fair decision,” Flim said. “Most of you are probably more familiar with Chef Emerald than you are with us, and that’s understandable. But we must ask that you do not let that sway your decision. If you want to truly fulfill your obligation to the justice system of our magnificent land of Equestria, you have to put your biases aside and ask yourselves, ‘who really deserves to walk away with the prize today?’ Please don’t forget us, your humble, working-class brethren, as you deliberate. Don’t let the celebrities get away with whatever they want if you know that they are not the ones who truly have the rights to it.”
“Sure, something like a catchphrase may seem insignificant,” Flam added. “But in the end you must remember that it is you, my fellow Equestrians, who have a chance to let the little guy win, instead of allowing the crushing hoof of stardom greedily take away another hard-won privilege of the common pony.”
Flim and Flam performed a synchronized bow before the jury before returning to their table.
The judge rolled his eyes. “Alright, defense. Closing statements, please.”
Emerald’s manager leaned in to his compatriots. “Are… are you really going to do… you know, what we discussed at lunch?”
“Of course he is,” Emerald hissed back. “Keep your trap shut and let Mr. Doubt do what he does best.”
Emerald’s manager placed his head in his forehooves. “Fine. But I still don’t feel right about this.”
“Of course you don’t. That’s why you’re not the one defending me,” Emerald snapped.
Reasonable Doubt ignored his client’s bickering and rose from his seat. He trotted slowly over to the jury.
“My esteemed citizens,” he began, “now that our opponents have finished their emotional but rather unsubstantial address, allow me to close my case in a more traditional way. When it gets right down to it, it should be apparent that my client has the more convincing evidence to support her ownership of the phrase. The prosecution may be obliquely trying to convince you otherwise, but let me remind you that your real responsibility here is to make sure justice favors the proper ponies, regardless of which are ‘the little guys’ and which are ‘the celebrities’. I trust you are all intelligent enough to make the right decision.”
Emerald grinned darkly as she looked on. “And now, he seals the deal…”
Reasonable Doubt bent himself into a graceful bow, so the top of his head faced the jury members. His horn gave off just the briefest spark of light, and the angle of his body made the action completely imperceptible to anypony in the courtroom, save for his target audience. Eleven of the twelve ponies were instantly inclined to believe the suave lawyer’s point of view. One, however, had not been able to stare at him properly, due to her eye condition. Aware that there had been some sort of brief flash, but unable to place its source or feel its effects, she simply blinked in confusion.
“This concludes our case, Your Honor,” Reasonable Doubt said calmly, turning back to the judge.
“About time…” the judge mumbled under his breath. “Now, members of the jury, you will retire to a private room and return when you have come to a unanimous decision. Is that clear?”
Most of the jurors nodded and motioned to leave their benches. Derpy, however, stood up and cleared her throat.
“Hey, Mr. Judge! Now that the trial’s over, I can ask questions, right? What was that flash a minute ago?”
“Ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the judge replied sternly. “Please just go with the rest of the jury and—”
“No!” Derpy argued. “I’m tired of being ignored here. This whole courthouse is loony; all day I’ve been dealing with weird events and stupid rules and a really grumpy judge, and if I’m supposed to make a decision about which pony wins this trial, then I think it’s about time that I get some answers!”
“Don’t talk back to me!” the judge roared. “Why can’t you just stay quiet and behave like the rest of the jury?”
Derpy would probably have taken off right then and there and flown over to answer the judge in no uncertain terms, but Carrot-top clamped a hoof over the pegasus’ mouth.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” the earth pony said weakly. “Derpy’s just… being Derpy. We’ll go to the jury chamber now.”
“Mmmph!” Derpy added.
Carrot-top dragged her friend down the hall, leaving the rest of the courtroom in silence. Reasonable Doubt and Emerald exchanged a glance.
“I think your spell might not have worked on that last juror…” Emerald whispered.
“Don’t worry,” the lawyer replied soothingly. “You’ve seen her behavior today. Nopony is going to take her seriously. The other eleven have all been affected; it would take a miracle to change the verdict now.”
Emerald scoffed and leaned back in her chair, glancing across the room at her nervous-looking competitors.
“Well then, looks like it’s finally time to show those Farm Face Brothers who’s really in charge here.”
“Th-that’s Flim Flam bro—”
“Shut up, Steve.”
Derpy Hooves sighed and pushed a pencil around the table surface with a hoof as her fellow jurors clamored around her. Again, she tried to speak up, but Carrot-top cut her off.
“Shush, Derpy. We’re talking right now.”
“But I’m part of this jury too,” Derpy mumbled. “Can’t I help with the decision?”
“I know you’re part of the jury,” Carrot-top said, turning away from the other jurors for a moment, “but we need to stay on task here, and you, um… haven’t been very good at that today. Besides, it’s not like we need to really discuss it. Chef Emerald is clearly innocent, right?”
Derpy shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that. There wasn’t a whole lot of evidence one way or another.”
Carrot-top chuckled. “Weren’t you paying attention, Derpy? Remember that recording, and the witness testimony? Obviously, Chef Emerald had the catchphrase first.”
Derpy frowned. “Carrot, I may not be the brightest pony, but I’m smart enough to know that there really wasn’t much to go on in that trial.”
“Well, the rest of us are agreeing that Chef Emerald had the stronger case,” Carrot-top said. “Since you don’t have an opinion anyway, would you like to agree just so we can make it unanimous?”
Derpy shrugged. “Well, if you’re all so sure I guess I can’t argue,” she admitted. “I feel like I wasted my time here today, though.”
Carrot-top seemed mysteriously distracted. Oblivious to Derpy’s discontent, she turned back to other jurors, who were waiting for her and Derpy’s decision.
“I guess it’s unanimous,” the earth pony said to the rest of the company. “I think Flim and Flam are about to lose ‘Bing Bang Zam’.
Derpy sat up very suddenly. Somehow, the juxtaposition of the prosecution’s names with the catchphrase in question had sparked a distant memory in the back of her brain.
In an instant, it all came flooding back. The warm, late summer’s day; the rowdy crowd of ponies; the big red machine, puffing out little clouds of smoke; and in the center of it all, Flim and Flam and their catchy little song.
Young filly, I would be ever so honored if you’d allow my brother and I to borrow some of your delicious, and might add spell-bindingly fragrant apples for our little demonstration here?
Uh, sure, I guess…
Oppurtunity in our community!
Ready Flim?
Ready Flam.
Let’s Bing Bang ZAM!
“Carrot-top! Wait!” Derpy gasped, jumping up and grabbing her friend by the tail. “I just remembered! Flim and Flam are the original owners of the phrase! I can prove it!”
Most of the jury groaned collectively as Carrot-top turned around and glared at the desperate pegasus.
“This better be good, Derpy.”
“Remember that one cider season in Ponyville, a long time ago?” Derpy asked. “Flim and Flam were there with that crazy cider making machine.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Carrot-top mumbled. “That doesn’t prove anything though.”
“But it does!” Derpy insisted. “I remember them saying ‘Bing Bang Zam’ in their song! In fact, I still probably have some old fliers lying around from their visit, ones so old that even they didn’t have a copy available to bring in as evidence! And that summer was from before Chef Emerald’s show even started.”
Carrot-top stared at Derpy for several moments. A sort of dawning comprehension crept across the earth pony’s features as the veil of the mind-altering spell was discreetly lifted.
“Derpy, I… I think you’re right,” she said. “But the jury can’t leave the courthouse, and if we can’t get a hold of one of those fliers, we can’t prove anything to the others.”
Derpy’s eyes widened. Wordlessly, she swung her mailbag off her shoulder and began desperately digging through the contents.
Carrot-top began to laugh. “Derpy, that cider season was years ago!” she giggled. “I know that mailbag is full of old junk, but there’s just no way you’re going to have a copy of—”
"Found one!"
Carrot-top quieted as Derpy pulled out a crumpled leaflet, which she quickly unfolded, revealing the worn but clear faces of the Flim Flam brothers, and the words “Bing Bang Zam.” The earth pony stared at the flier in disbelief.
“And ponies wonder why their mail gets lost or delivered to the wrong location,” the earth pony said with a weak chuckle. “It’s because the mailmare hasn’t cleaned her mailbag in half a decade.”
“Laugh all you want,” Derpy replied. “But my disorganized habits just gave us a clear winner, I think.”
Carrot-top snatched the pamphlet from her friend and turned to the ten other jurors, and discussion began anew.
Silence fell over the courtroom as the jury reappeared. They marched in single file back to their two long benches, with Carrot-top and Derpy bringing up the rear as usual.
The judge, who had all but fallen asleep, shook himself and commanded the courtroom’s attention with a bang of his gavel.
“The jury has returned from their deliberations, and will now present the verdict,” he announced. “And then we can all go home. Finally.”
Juror one, a unicorn, stood up and cleared his throat.
“We, the jury, after deliberating at length, have determined that the defendant, Chef Emerald, is…”
The speaker’s breath caught in his throat. He glanced around the courtroom, watching everypony lean forward in anticipation.
Emerald cast a smug smile in the direction of the Flim Flam brothers. The twins, while not as confident as their opponent, were able to fake it quite nicely and return equally haughty grins.
“Chef Emerald is… g-guilty.”
Nopony moved for several seconds.
“I’m sorry,” said the judge, lifting his wig off his ears. “Perhaps I didn’t hear you right. Could you repeat that?”
“We find the defendant guilty, Your Honor.”
Flim and Flam grinned and high-hoofed one another. The judge blinked, and leaned back in his chair. “Well then. In what I must admit is an unexpected outcome, I hereby declare that the rights to any commercial use of the phrase ‘Bing Bang Zam’ now fall to… the Flim Flam Brothers.”
The judge pounded the gavel against the stand, affirming the finality of the decision.
All eyes in the courtroom turned to the defense table. Reasonable Doubt looked rather uncomfortable, and Emerald’s manager sat quaking in fear, but the chef herself seemed devoid of any emotion. She sat staring straight ahead, her forehooves quivering slightly and rattling the table they rested upon.
“Ch-ch-chef Emerald?” the manager squeaked. “Are… are you—”
“This is all your fault, Steve!” Chef Emerald bellowed, leaping to her hooves and bearing down on the terrified pegasus.
“M-my fault?” he squeaked in a voice that wouldn’t have sounded out of place coming from a filly. “B-b-b-but how? Reasonable Doubt, wasn’t he the one who—”
“Shut up!” the chef roared. “I’m tired of your stupid suggestions, I’m tired of your backtalk, and most of all, I’m tired of putting up with failure after failure from my pathetic excuse for a manager! You are fired!”
Emerald’s last word echoed through the courtroom. Everypony stared incredulously at the chef, but she was far beyond the threshold of self-restraint. For several seconds, she towered over her manager, seething as she waited for him to squeak out a response.
Instead, he did something quite different. With a sudden flap of his wings, he rose into the air so that he was the one staring down at the chef.
“You know something, Chef Emerald?” he asked quietly. “Maybe that’s for the best. Because it occurs to me that no amount of pay is worth the stress I’ve been through these past few days.”
“Oh no?” Chef Emerald asked, trying to remain intimidating despite her lower vantage point. “Who is going to hire a pony like you, Steve? Nopony wants an employee who can’t do anything right! You’re lucky I put up with you this long!”
The manager shook his head. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. For years you’ve done nothing but berate me and ignore all my hard work! And for your information, my name is not Steve!”
He crossed his forelegs and snorted. “No matter how much abuse I took, I always worked to make your stupid show as successful as I could. But this… this ridiculous court case was the last straw! I have half a mind to—”
He stopped speaking for a moment, and a small smile crept across his face.
“Actually…” he mumbled. “Now that I’m fired, there’s no reason for me not to tell them, is there?”
The chef gasped, and Reasonable Doubt’s eyes widened as well.
“Now Steve, let’s not be so hasty…” Emerald babbled, her tone suddenly one of nervous apology. “Maybe we can work out some sort of employment agreement here…”
“Whoops, too late,” said the manager with a chuckle. “You and that lawyer of yours have taken things a little too far this time, and I think the rest of the courtroom has a right to know what happened.
He turned to the judge, who for the first time since the trial began actually looked interested.
“Your Honor, these two ponies attempted to rig this trial in order to secure their victory,” the manager said. “First of all, I have reason to believe Emerald sabotaged Flim and Flam’s witness somehow so that he was unable to be present to testify today.”
Emerald snorted. “Do you have any proof, Steve?”
“No, I don’t,” the pegasus replied. “But that doesn’t matter. After all, that’s not the biggest crime that has occurred here today.”
Emerald’s former manager fluttered up a bit further, making sure he was far out of the chef’s reach before continuing.
“Emerald and Reasonable Doubt illegally attempted to skew the results of the trial via a mind-altering spell Reasonable Doubt cast on the jury. This was the ‘flash’ that juror twelve claimed to see earlier, and it is likely because of her immunity to the spell that the jury ruled in favor of Flim and Flam!”
“I told you we should never have told him!” Emerald complained, glowering at Reasonable Doubt.
“Chef Emerald, you realize that by saying that, you have just proven that your former manager’s claims are true, right?” Reasonable Doubt asked uncomfortably.
Emerald froze, and flattened her ears against her head.
“Whoops.”
Derpy laughed. “Boy, he sure sunk their Battleship!”
“Derpy.”
“Yes Carrot?”
“What is wrong with you?”
The courtroom guards advanced on Emerald and her lawyer. In one swift motion, Reasonable Doubt draped a foreleg over the chef’s back, and with a bright flash, the two of them teleported out of the courtroom.
Flim and Flam stood on the courthouse steps, watching the bustle of the excited media crews and stern law enforcement ponies as they prepared to begin the search of the fugitive chef and her lawyer.
“That turned out even better than I thought it would, brother!” Flam laughed. “Not only did we win the trial, but we helped uncover a conspiracy and expost a pair of dirty criminals.”
“The publicity from this alone will boost our sales for months!” Flim said excitedly. “And best of all, our catchphrase is legally ours forevermore!”
“Yeah, uh… congratulations, you two.”
Flim and Flam turned around to find Emerald’s former manager sitting on the steps behind them.
“Well, if it isn’t the hero of the day!” Flim chuckled. “You look a little glum, all things considered.”
The pegasus nodded. “Believe me, I think it’s for the best that I’m not working for the chef anymore,” he said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m out of the job, now.”
Flim and Flam exchanged a quick glance.
“You know,” Flam said slowly, “my brother and I have been looking for a way to boost our advertising. We were trying to find just the right pony to hire as a sales manager…”
The pegasus laughed. “Are… are you two serious?”
“Of course!” said Flim. “Want to work for us?”
“Well, anything has to be better than working for Emerald.”
The three ponies laughed and trotted down the steps and away from the busy courthouse.
“I daresay the future looks bright for us now, brother!” Flam announced.
“I’d have to agree,” Flim replied. “And I think it’s only appropriate to celebrate with the use of our catchphrase!”
“Ready Flim?”
“Ready Flam.”
The brothers turned to their new manager. “And you too, of course. We’re a team now!”
The pegasus chuckled and raised a hoof along with the brothers, as all three of them repeated the hard-won phrase.
“Let’s Bing Bang ZAM!”
