This was a very open and shut case. The door handle was busted open, 2/3 chairs were broken, 1/3 of the bears breakfast was eaten, and the dammed girl was sleeping in the kid's bed.

In any other circumstance this would be hard to prove it was her, but since Cheif B.B.Wolf found the girls titular "Golden Locks" at the scene of the crime, and Jr Bear took photos of the damages and the girl in his bed. Open and shut.

Mr Bear offered a nice pint of some alcoholic cider to toast winning the case however I informed him fhat i had other works to do.

As i got back to my office I couldn't help but remember my previous cases... Humpty Dumpty, he sued the king for lack of safety precautions when working in construction, we won that one very easily and help start a worker's union.

Cheif B.B.Wolf, i remember that one he was falsely accused of eating a grandma and attempt at eating her granddaughter before getting assaulted by a woodsman. We lost that case, even though i made it apparent that all three of their testimonies were bullshit. Still he out and back as Cheif.

Cinderella, after the crows took her stepmother's & stepsisters' eyes they tried to sue us, that was before we counter sued them with domestic abuse, attempted identity theft, domestic violence,and so much more. The look on their blind faces was astronomical. A well earned win...

But now a legal dispute that I've been struggling with, Jack V Giants. God this is going to be a long one. Farm kid buys magical beans tresspasses, steals, and commits 3rd degree murder. I feel bad for the guy who's about defend this kid...

With a soft wheeze the mirror fogged over, clouding both myself and Mr Bear in white plumes as the flashes of magnesium camera lights forced us to wince. A dull quiet filled the office, the five dossiers that lay open on my desk carried little weight in comparison to an interspecies manslaughter case. Pulling the narrowest folder towards me I eyed over its summary.

Workplace endangerment, appropriate accommodations not made for visual impairment in the case of three temporary rodent employees. The squared san-serif typeface did little to invigorate the case, I folded it over and clipped the pages together, filing it for a junior intern’s attention.

Breach of contract, Fairy Godmother’s terms of enchantment intentionally false. Taking a long drag of the wooden pipe, I sucked in my cheeks and puffed out small rings of smoke. They wafted towards the ceiling before dissipating out across the flat white plaster; staining its surface with patches of aged mustard tar. Princess Cinderella was not unknown in the region, she had been slandering her Fairy Godmother to any sleaze with ink and paper. Rumour was she paid well.

Rolling up the thick white parchment I tied a thin red ribbon around its width and held it up with my right hand. Swooping down from its perch, a pigeon clasped the drawstring with its talon and beat its wings to regain height. At the peak of its arc the bird turned and dove towards the carpet, gaining speed it was unfased by the possibility of connecting with the rigid floor. With a vwoomp the bird disappeared, replaced by a throw of feathers and sparks. The tips of the carpet let off the nose curling smell of burnt wool as it coughed up black strings, singed from the close proximity to the courier’s dispelling.

By the time I had risen to stamp out the embers the light had begun to dim in the room. A shimmer appeared behind me that forced the hairs on my neck to stand up, pale blue fireworks spat and burst at its frame as the wavy form showed its true nature. Though it was made of wood the door had a ghostly presence, it was mostly transparent and had none of the rich earthy browns or yellows that oak usually held. Three equally spaced bursts rumbled on the door, each punctuated by a rose firework that bloomed in the spot of impact.

“Enter.” I called out. The doors parted down the centre seamlessly, swinging open into the space.

First to traverse the threshold was the pigeon, fluttering around my shoulders before returning to its perch. Next the clacking footsteps of glass slippers on stone floor quickly transitioned to a dull thud on carpeted wood. As she passed through the door her form sprang to life, pale red tinging flushed her cheeks and the grey of her hair erupted into a blonde river of curls.

“Mrs Charming,” I lowered myself to one knee, holding out my palm for her to grace. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Quite.” She responded curtly, brushing my palm with a bony index finger before rounding on the red velvet cushioned chair opposite the desk. Here for business, it would seem. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear the mirror let out a small chuckle.

I returned to my station, stashing the remaining three un-filed dossiers in a draw and locking it shut with a thin brass key. Spreading out the first five pages of Cinderella’s case I began my interrogation.

“You are accusing your Fairy Godmother of breach of contract, is that correct?”

“Correct.” She responded. “I was assured that the curse would be broken at midnight. My gown returned to rags, the carriage went from plush and luxurious to a puckered gourd that stunk of mildew, but a single glass slipper remained enchanted.”

Tapping the ash out of the pipe, I refilled its reservoir and offered a drag to the Princess, she turned it away with a well practiced gesture.

“Since the slipper remained enchanted, you’re alleging that her end of the bargain wasn’t upheld?”

“Correct.”

“What is your proposed resolution?” Clicking the cap off my fountain pen, I ran my thumb up its golden curve.

“Emotional damages, in the order of eighty percent of the revenue earned from her claims to be a royal matchmaker.” She practically spat the title. I scribbled down the response on the inside of her file, nodding as she spoke. “I think it is only fair, don’t you?”

My pen paused mid stroke as I wrestled with the phrasing of my next question. “Are you unhappy with the Prince?”

“How dare you.” She hissed, “The Prince is an upstanding gentleman, he is honest, moral, and ultimately.. quite Charming.”

“I’m unsure of your chances to sue for emotional damages if you seem to be in your desired place as a result of her actions.” I advised. “Do you not think that instead she went above and beyond her station?” The proposal was risky, but since I had the mirror as a silent witness I would be able to claim expert corroboration if her outburst betrayed any ill-intent.

Her hand, heavy with a thick golden ring that when melted down could spawn at least ten usual sized bands, reached into her purse and drew out a folded slip of paper. Sliding it onto the velvet tray at the lip of my desk, she asked “Are you going to take the case or not?”

Opening the note, my heart skipped a beat. I could get a new filing desk, bookshelves, paint the entire room… Hell, I could up and abandon this office and move into a high-rise. “I’ll devote my efforts to give you an answer by tomorrow’s early light.” I answered.

Satisfied, her sparkling gown twirled as she rose to face the centre of the room. Swooping down, the pigeon burst past her neck throwing her hair out like tasseled curtaintails. As it flashed out of sight, the pale door re-emerged in the space left behind. Passing through back into her realm, I let out a sigh as I span my chair towards the fogged mirror.

“Hear all that?” I called out.

“Loud and clear.” A shaky voice replied. As the mist slowly cleared, the weathered pale skin of the Fairy Godmother came into view. She clicked her tongue and knitted her brow in concern. “Is it really breach of contract? I was only trying to help…”

“Gods no.” I laughed, “She’s just looking for an easy payday. Those weren’t her words coming from her lips. This time, we’ll take the prince for everything he’s got.”

As a defense attorney, I have experienced my share of strange and dreadful cases. The latest of which—the “Big Bad Wolf” case as it has been named—was true to its name. The charges? Two counts of destruction of property, stemming from the wolf’s actions in destroying the houses of two of the three little pigs.

The courtroom was filled to the brim with spectators, both for and against my client. Most were there to see justice be done, which I kept firmly in mind as we trudged through each motion and each line of questioning. Our progress was slow but sure, until eventually, we had assembled our defense: A plea of not guilty on all counts due to diminished capacity at the time the crime occurred, due to a physicially tested mental illness.

I was hopeful that this evidence would serve in our favor against the odds stacked against us. After much deliberation and debate between myself and council representing the prosecution, we finally had a verdict: The Big Bad Wolf was declared innocent on all counts by virtue of insanity.

After being set free, my client approached me with a sinister smile on his face. Somehow sensing my wariness, he brushed a finger down my cheek and murmured “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.” With an involuntary shudder, I took a step back from him and quickly said goodbye.

I let out a sigh of relief when he walked away from me without any further interaction -- until moments later when I heard an earsplitting howl coming from behind me. I spun around to find him bearing down on me with a feral look in his eyes - my client had revealed himself to be an instrument of nature's cruelty and had transformed into something even more terrible than before.

Before I could react, the Wolf lunged at me - sinking his teeth into my skin with unyielding force, sending spirals of pain ringing through my body as he tore into me with animalistic fury, until all that remained was deathly silence in its wake.

“It’s in my nature,” he whispered.

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