Episode 024 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“If it matters to Bev, then I, Denny Crane, have to pretend that it matters to me.” Denny Crane, Boston Legal Three shrimp and beef teriyaki bowls were laid down amongst a pair of sesame chicken platters. In the middle of the mall food court, the three cohorts sat alone, distanced from the handful of other diners in the midday mall by at least half a dozen cheap, monochromatic plastic tables. Morgan snapped apart his chopsticks and began to roll them both in his hands as if he was about to start a fire. “So let me just see if I can get this straight,” he began, taking a bite from the teriyaki shrimp. He closed his eyes in elated delight, then looked across at Everett with Edgar sitting next to them both. “You think the Crimson Rose is a bad, bad idea. You think this because he wears red and black and is trying to stop street crime and carries a rapier. And you think that, because the Knights are currently on several governmental ‘watch these guys’ lists, that as the Rose gains in popularity, you’ll all get into trouble.” “Not just us,” Everett said. “Knights around the country.” “Especially when the copycats start showing up,” Edgar added. “If the Rose gets any bigger, any more popular, you’re going to start having half-drunk college guys with a red towel tied around their necks, running around the inner city with $20 flea market swords, trying to be a mix between Galahad and Batman.” “I’d watch the $20 swords comment,” Morgan said with a smartass glance at Everett. “Some of us swear by $20 swords.” “For your information, I’m actually buying a real sword,” he defended. “Oh?” Edgar remarked, entertained as he filled his plate with some of the communal food. “This is news.” “Yeah,” Everett said. “In all the time I’ve been going around underarms, I’ve never once had to dispose of my ninjato. It’s always gotten destroyed in a fight or has been dulled beyond sharpening. So I figured it was time I went ahead and invested in a real blade.” “What kind?” Morgan asked. Everett paused, unable to keep a smile from fracturing on his face for half a second. “A double-bladed katana.” Edgar and Morgan both looked at one another, then at him. “Really?” Morgan said. “That’s ambitious. Where’d you find one?” “There’re a couple of places on-line that do quality work that sell them,” Everett explained, taking a bite. “Not cheap blades, mind you, but real swords.” He shrugged. “I figure so long as the prophecy’s there, I might as well cast my lot into the mix.” “Ah the legend of Excalibur,” Edgar chuckled. “You know, Sydney’s going to give you a hell of a time once she finds out.” “Yeah, isn’t the idea behind the legend that Excalibur was, actually, a double-bladed katana?” Morgan asked with a laugh. “Yeah, which is preposterous. They didn’t have katana’s back then, even in Japan,” Everett said. “But still. It’s a prophecy. What’s it matter?” “It matters because you’ve never believed in magic or fate or any of that stuff,” Morgan said. “When did this start?” Everett took a breath, stirring his rice and meet. “I don’t ‘believe’, not like that, but, I guess I’m just open to it. Sort of.” Morgan went back to his food, then dropped a small piece of shrimp into Ralph’s carrying case. The turtle snapped inside his shell for a moment, then peered cautiously out at the morsel. “So, do any of you know who the Rose is?” “Not a clue,” Edgar said. “Actually,” Everett spoke up. Edgar and Morgan both looked at him. “I think I do.” “Really now,” Edgar said, slightly put out. “Do tell.” “His name’s Alan Vick,” Everett said with emphasis. “He’s a knight from Ohio, or at least he claims to be. I ran into him when we all went out to dinner. He says he’s just in town for a little while, working on a project. Rubbed me the wrong way, but he said he wasn’t going to be in town for very long.” “And you didn’t stick around to talk with him further?” Morgan asked, mildly concerned. “In the couple of minutes we spoke, we nearly came to blows,” he explained. “I nearly drew my sword, in a crowded restaurant.” “What the hell did he say?” Edgar asked, astonished. Everett took a moment. “He referenced Marilyn.” Morgan stared into his bowl, stirring the contents. “Everett, she’s a liability. Either bring her into the fold, or cut her off. But keeping her on the edge of everything just puts her, and you, and all of you,” he added with a glance to Edgar, “at risk.” Everett was quiet for a moment. He stirred his food absently before glancing around at the food court. Aimless, he shook his head. “The Rose is my concern at the moment. I don’t know if this Vick-cat is the Rose or not, but I don’t want the FBI to come knocking on my front door because they think I have even the slightest information. Lord knows, with this whole ‘absence of evidence is not evidence of absence’ mentality that’s being passed around these days, there’s nothing anyone could do to dissuade them otherwise.” “It’s an ugly time for all of us,” Edgar agreed, working to focus on his food. Morgan sighed, looking down. His mind raced resistantly before he laughed inwardly at himself. He closed his eyes as if saying a silent prayer. “Tell me what you know about the Rose,” he asked solemnly.
Previous Episode	Next Episode