maskormenace | 001

[Good morning, Heropa. Greeting you today is a man with a bright smile and an even brighter shirt — aqua, with a tie that seems to match only in theory — and a look in his eye that twinkles with confidence and certainty. Yes, here is a man who is not at all questioning this place and its motives; here is a man who is totally okay with the situation in which he's found himself; here is a man who is a very good, very convincing faker.]

Greetings and salutations, fellow ImPorts! Allow me to introduce myself: Saul Goodman, attorney at law and soon-to-be judge. I want you all to be able to think of me as a resource — as someone whose purpose here is to assist where and when I can, at least as far as legal issues are concerned. For consultation purposes only, though; I won't... uh, really have the time to open my own practice here, unfortunately.

[And that does seem like something that upsets him, but he allows that emotion in for all of two seconds before dismissing it and focusing back on sounding genuine and honest. Which he is, to some degree. It's just... kind of rare, is all. But this is what happens when you don't want to upset your kidnappers: You do what you think you have to.]

Anyway, I'm gonna have to spend some time catching up on what's actually going on in this place, legally and politically speaking. There are other lawyers and legal professional-types around, right? We should chat. Oh, and for all you daytime TV-watchers —

[THERE THEY ARE. THE FINGERGUNS.]

Get used to seeing this face.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He was all for carrying on with his life, but the finger guns make him nostalgic for home, don't mind him. Fraser is not in uniform, however; Florida is way too hot, the sequel. ]

Your name is really Saul Goodman?

Sure is. My parents had one hell of a sense of humor.

[Saul's answer comes as naturally as saying yes, the sky is blue. It's just the truth, man. How dare you question it.]

[ This is becoming a familiar conversation, to be fair. ]

I think it's eminently suitable, for an attorney. Benton Fraser. [ As though to say: and speaking of parents with a sense of humor... ]

[Benton?

What the hell kind of a name is Benton?]

Isn't it? Nice to meet you, Benton.

Fraser is fine, if you prefer. I find it's easier for Americans to remember.

[ Just a tiny bit of a dick sometimes, don't mind him. ]

Have you worked in television before?

Fraser, then. Lemme guess — Canadian?

[He doesn't sound British or anything else with a strong accent, so it's an educated guess of sorts.]

And yeah, technically. I had commercials for my practice back home.

As it happens, yes.

I'm familiar with the kind of TV spot you're talking about, although I still find it unusual that attorneys at law take such a commercial approach to defense in the States. Of course, where I come from, lawyers are a far rarer breed, and they tend to find clients by ah--word of mouth.

[YEAH FRASER, SAUL KNOWS. CANADA IS JUST THE BEST PLACE ON EARTH. EVERYONE SMELLS LIKE MAPLE SYRUP AND IS NICE.

He shrugs, expression neutral.]

Business is business.

[ You forgot tastes like candy cane.

He shakes his head slightly. It's sad. And it really wouldn't be the first time that the system has disappointed him. A business. Arrest the guilty, sweat blood and tears putting them through due process, watch them walk, and arrest them again. Of course someone was making money from it. ]

I'm in no position to deplore the practice, being practically complicit in it myself.

[#America!!!]

Yeah? What do you do?

I'm a police officer. Royal Canadian Mounted Police, to be exact, although I'm presently in the process of reapplying myself to the service.

[To Saul's credit, he resists making a Mountie joke. But barely.]

A Mountie and a criminal defense attorney. Sounds like a sitcom in the making, eh?

[...the "eh" doesn't count.]

If so then I suspect I've been the subject of just such a cruel joke all along. Although I can't imagine any sitcom following my posting in Chicago would yield much in the way of situation comedy.

[ Fraser, please. ]

Diefenbaker's, perhaps.

[that reference

saul's head]

What was a Mountie doing in Chicago?

I first came to Chicago on the trail of my father's killers, and remained attached to the Canadian Consulate following ah...an unofficial exile of sorts.

[ That's the nice way of putting it. ]

...how the hell does a person get exiled from Canada?

[WHAT DID YOU DO, FRASER?]

Ah--well, it's very simple really. You arrest a superior officer for the murder of your father, imperil the viability of a multi-billion dollar dam project, and thus embarrass, the Canadian government by implicating them in the conspiracy, for the sake of profit, to drown thousands of wild caribou.

After that, generally speaking, they'd much rather you were causing trouble for the Americans.

[Saul gives a low whistle, impressed.]

That's one hell of a story, guy.

[ He ducks his head slightly. ]

It improves in the retelling, I'm afraid I subjected you to a much abridged version.

Well, maybe you can tell me the full version over drinks sometime, eh?

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