3 Years Ago

Hall of Lawson, 10:16 AM

A yellow taxi cab puffed out a heap of black smog as it came to stop outside of Business Park's esteemed courthouse. Little did the good (and bad) people of BP know, but a new defense attorney was in town and he planned to make a spectacular entrance that would leave everyone wishing they could bleach the memory from their brains.

27 year old Raven Lockwood stepped out of the cab with a briefcase in one hand, a triple shot expression in the other and he held a piece of burnt toast between his neck and chin. He had attempted to pull off the dainty but rushing business woman style way of eating toast, but it has slipped out of his mouth and he had managed to catch it only by the goatee on his chin.

"Eh screw it!" Raven squawked in his nasally voice. "Who needs fiber anyway? I don't need to be taking bathroom breaks during my first trial here anyways."

He looked out onto the grand building. "Yowsers," he said to himself. "Who knew I'd finally be here. Lawyering in a bigtown California!"

The young man struck a confident pose. He wore a dapper, purple suit befitting of a suave lawyer (or King, the foppish but gifted funk artist from Minnesota). His jet black hair was piled high in a bushy mop. "Time to shake the foundations of California law itself!" he said and then wiggled his torso. "And my hips!"

With a confident strut, he power walked all the way to the top of the stone steps of the building and nearly dropped to his knees. He puffed and gasped. "Maybe I needed that fiber after all!"

As he entered the central hall where a statue of the OG attorney guarded it and the law, Raven puzzled his mind. He wasn't so focused on the case itself (he truly lived up to the name of his startup law firm, Birdbrains) but making an entrance that would stun...or perhaps burn itself into everyone's memories so they'd be talking forever about it.

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He thought back to his dance class in high school and his favorite song. It was adisco funk number one hit by the Hee Bee Gee Bees and immediately, he had the perfect routine. Like the record, he too would be a big smash.

The man practically pranced through the hallway, elated by his own brilliant idea. After all, his mentor foreseen a long career ahead of him, but an entrance to a career was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

He reached the imposingly large double doors of the west wing and grinned like a self satisfied crow. "Here goes nothing!"

The man burst into the room...in song!

And what an audience he had. Aisles upon aisles were filled with townsfolk, the media, and out-of-towners all come to see the court case...and him!

With his smooth moves, he glided down the aisle, practically fluttering on his feet. And when he moved he also burst into song.

His squawky voice practically rose to the height of female soul singers and eunuchs as he belted in a falsetto the following lyrics:

"You can tell by the way I use my law, I'm a woman's attorney, I got time to law!"

Heading towards the judges stand, he reached the chorus of his obnoxious song. "Hah hah hah, attorney at law, attorney at law!"

There was a slam from gavel and a shout of order.

"That was the worst, most tone deaf entrance I've ever seen, sonny."

It silenced Raven's squawking and hollering quicker than a mute button.

The judge was an elderly, but smooth skinned woman who looked strangely familiar to Raven. Suddenly, he realized his mistake. This woman was the esteemed Justice Divine Justice, former soul singer and the most powerful judge in the county. She suffered fools gladly.

Raven opened his mouth to explain, but the judge continued her spiel.

"What is your name?"

"Raven Lockwood, ma'am," he said with a comical salute.

"Well, your performance, if you can call it that was tone in two ways...Mr. Lockwood....One, it was the most awful display of r&b vocalizing I've ever heard. I could step on one of my five cats and they would be more on key than you. And two, this case you are representing is the most grievous case I have seen in twenty years."

Raven glanced over to the bench of the defense. A gawky brunette teenager sat fidgeting nervously.

Raven slowly nodded. He had totally forgotten. His client, fifteen year old Mina Hawkins was on trial for murder in cold blood.