Work Text:
i. 1:3
“Hi, is this, ummm, Gerri? Mrs. Gerri Kellerman?”
“Kellman. Who’s calling, please?”
“It’s, uhh, Roman? Roman Roy? You’re my dad’s new lawyer? We met at that thing the other day."
*silence*
"I’m the one he was yelling at ‘cause I snuck a squirrel into the coat check room and then it got out and ran up that lady’s leg.”
“Hello, Roman. Yes, I remember.”
“Cool. So anyway it’s my first day of college and I have a legal question?”
“Ummm. Go ahead?”
“My math professor said that for every hour in class we’re expected to spend three hours outside class studying. Is that true? Because that sounds like bullshit. It’s way too much. It’s, like, exploitation of minors, or something.”
“Well, you’re eighteen, so you’re not a--wait, how is this a legal question exactly?”
“I figured there might be a law or something.”
“A law ? About studying?”
“Well I don’t know, fuck! I’ve never been to stupid college before. They keep giving me all these fliers and packets and shit with all these dumb rules and requirements and, like, prerequisites? Whatever the fuck those are.”
“No. Your professor cannot legally dictate how much time you spend studying.”
“Okay cool, that’s all I was wondering. Thank you! Um, have a nice day! Bye!”
ii. 15-minute rule
“Hi Gerri, uh, Mrs. Kellman, it’s me again. Roman. Roman Roy. You work for my dad? We spoke last week? On the phone?”
“Yes?”
“I'm in class and it was supposed to have started ten minutes ago and the professor's still not here and this guy says if it's more than fifteen we’re legally allowed to leave. As my lawyer, can you confirm or deny?”
“...I’m not your lawyer, Roman.”
“I mean you kinda are?”
“No, I’m a corporate attorney who represents the company of which your father is CEO.”
“Well then do you know who my lawyer is? Do I have a lawyer? Like my own personal lawyer.”
“You do not.”
“‘Cause I kinda feel like I should have one.”
“I’m beginning to see why that might be the case.”
“So will you be my lawyer, then? You seem really nice. And you’re all smart and stuff.”
“No.”
*sigh* “Fine. I was trying to pay you a compliment but whatever.” *click*
iii. prereq
[voicemail]
“Hi Gerri, this is Roman Roy again. I called you just a couple minutes ago but I forgot there was something else I was gonna ask you. What is a prerequisite, anyway? Because I tried to sign up for a French class and they said I don’t have the right one. Is there somewhere I can buy it?”
iv. midterms
“Hi Gerri it’s Roman. From work. I mean, from your work. Whatever. This girl in my bio class said I need a scantron for the midterm. That’s the, like, the bubble-y test thing, right? Can someone go fetch me one?”
“Go fetch you one?”
“See, this is exactly why I told Dad that it’s high time I had my own PA, for this kind of thing. But he says he won’t get me one unless I get straight As this semester and I’m not sure that’s gonna be, like, numerically possible, or whatever. You can't tell my dad I said that, by the way. It’s attorney-client privilege.”
“I’m not your attorney.”
“My stupid asshole brother got his own PA when he was fourteen. Just because he went to some nerd school. For nerds.”
“Roman--”
“Dad was all like, oh, it’s to help him keep track of his books and homework and shit, but he didn’t even do his own homework! His dumb boyfriend Stewart always did it for him.”
“Roman. Why exactly are you calling me about this? Your exam, I mean. Because this is most assuredly not a legal matter.”
“I dunno. You always help me out with stuff and you don’t make fun of me for asking dumb questions. Who the fuck else am I supposed to ask? Damn.”
“You do realize you have an older brother who has already attended college and who I’m sure would be glad to address these concerns.”
“Who, Connor?! He’s a billion years old! I bet they didn’t even have computers and stuff when he was in college. He probably wrote his papers with those--the motherfucking--the feather things.”
“A quill.”
“Whatever. It's true that he doesn't have a computer, by the way. I got an email address and I was gonna give it to him so that we could, y'know, keep in touch and shit while I'm at school and he was all like 'the web is dangerous, I don't trust machines, robots are gonna take over,' so yeah, fuck that guy. I don't want any stupid emails from him anyway.”
"Okay, yes, but--"
"Anyway I've tried asking him questions about stuff, but he does this stupid shit where he wants to be all helpful but he doesn't actually know what the fuck he's talking about half the time. But he won’t just admit it so he just makes up some weird bullshit instead. I’m not falling for that again."
“You also have--”
“And Dad won’t even answer my calls.”
“--another brother who is currently enrolled.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a fucking prick. It’s always either ‘Roman, you’re not a kid anymore, you should know this already’ or he can't give me a straight fucking answer because he's, like, unavailable. Mentally speaking."
"And what does 'unavailable, mentally speaking' mean exactly?"
*silence*
"Roman?"
"Nothing. Forget I said it. He should be nicer to me, you know. I know stuff about him, I could fuck his whole world up. Gerri? Hey, you still there? Gerri?”
“Yes, it’s the sheets with bubbles. They probably sell them in your campus bookstore.”
“OK great. Thank you so much! You're the best.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“One more thing, real quick. Do you know where the campus bookstore is?”
v. under the influence
“Hey Gerri it’s Roman. I was riding my skateboard around the quad doing some sick kickflips and this campus security, fucking, asshole whatever guy stopped me and I think he could tell that I’m-- well, I’m currently a little bit--”
“...currently a little bit what?”
“Chemically, umm. Altered?”
“Altered.”
"Nothing hardcore. Unlike some pricks I could mention. But with a plant maybe? Just, like, theoretically, let’s say that maybe I have recently ingested a plant. Of some description."
“For Christ's sake, Roman, just say you're high. I haven’t got all day.”
“That wouldn’t, y’know, incriminate me? Telling my lawyer that--”
“Still not your lawyer.”
“I mean the thing is that you are extremely uptight. Altogether uncool. The least hip person I have ever met. So I wasn’t even sure if you knew what getting high is, because you are so very, very boring.”
“Well, I was a teenager in the seventies, so believe it or not I am actually familiar with this sort of thing.”
“Really? Shiiiiiit. You’re like old old, older than Connor even. Fuuuuuuck.”
“That’s not very--”
“I thought that you were really hot but now that I know you’re super-old it’s kind of gross.”
*silence*
“Kidding. That was a joke.”
*further silence*
“Gerri? It was a joke. Don’t be mad. Are you mad? Whatever, I don’t care.”
“Did you actually have a question for me?”
“Oh yeah, that. Can you get a DUI for riding a skateboard high? Is it like driving a car? It’s not, is it?”
“Roman--”
“I mean since it’s kind of like a vehicle.”
“I have a meeting to get to.”
“Is it with my dad? Your meeting. It’s not with my dad, is it? Don’t tell him I’m high, okay?”
“Goodbye, Roman--”
“Gerri! Gerri! Please don’t tell my--”
*click*
vi. property damage
[voicemail]
“Hey Gerri. It’s me. Uh, Roman. So let’s say that someone had a car, a Lamborghini, just for the sake of argument? But the so-called owner of the car is the son of a Waystar exec and the car was actually a graduation present from my dad. And then say that something happened to said Lambo, maybe with, like, a blowtorch, for example. But the blowtorch itself actually belonged to the car's, again, so-called owner. So in this scenario, the person who physically wielded the blowtorch wouldn’t necessarily be responsible for the damage, right? Because when you think about it, it’s kind of technically my dad’s car since he paid for it, which means it’s part of the family estate so in a sense it’s kind of my car, or at least one-fourth my car. And it’s this other dude’s blowtorch that damaged it, so it’s actually more like he’s committed a crime against me because his property was involved in the destruction to this car that’s partially mine. Does that make sense? Also, just for relevant legal context here, this dude is a massive fucking douchebag whereas I am widely known as a swell and lovely guy, so it just stands to reason that I would not be considered the responsible party here. Anyway, if you could look into the, y’know, legalities or liabilities or whatever of all that and get back to me? Thanks! Have a good weekend! Byeeeee!”
vii. 4.0
“Gerri! Hey girl! Whassup?”
“What’s up? Roman, it’s three in the morning.”
“Oh for real? Damn. Anyway. I got another legal question--”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“No, it’s totally legit this time! Here goes. Is it true that if a car hits you at a campus crosswalk that you’ll get--”
“Nope. Urban legend.”
“What about if your roommate commits--”
“Also no.”
“Are you sure? Because there’s that movie that just came out and I’m at this party at this dude’s loft and like six people swear up and down that--”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay but what if they just, y’know, attempted ? I heard that also counts. Would that buy you, say, a B average? B-minus?”
“Roman--”
“C-plus? Because I’m kinda worried about my Bio class.”
“This is ridiculous. You don’t even have a roommate, Logan bought you a penthouse apartment a block from campus.”
“Yeah, but I could get a roommate. If it meant raising this Bio grade, I’d be extremely willing to get a roommate and try to get them to, y’know. Not actually do the thing! I’m not a psychopath. Just the slightest of attempts. Just enough to convince the, like, principal of the university, or whatever you call them."
"That--"
"I’d settle for a C-minus. Dad would be pissed as all hell, but I’m pretty sure if it's higher than a D he won't try to actually murder me. Probably.”
“As legal counsel, I would not advise that you encourage someone to attempt suicide to get a C-minus in your Biology class.”
“HA! I thought you said you weren’t my lawyer! I have now made you my lawyer via my exceedingly advanced cleverness in verbal trickery. BOO-YAH.”
“Yeah, well, sorry to inform you that ‘verbal trickery’ is not contractually binding, even when accompanied by a triumphant pronouncement of ‘boo-yah.’”
“Okay but--no, hear me out!--what if I got a roommate and then paid them to fake their own--”
“Roman. Go back to your penthouse. Go to sleep.”
“Nite-nite Gerri!”
"...nite-nite, Roman."
viii. academic probation
[voicemail]
“Um Gerri. Hi. It’s me. So I want to preface by saying this is just a purely hypothetical question. But if I end up with--just for the sake of argument--three Ds and an F, could we sue the school? Hypothetically. I mean, I'm actually doing great this semester, obviously, straight As. Gold stars all around. I was just wondering. Anyway, don’t tell my dad. Thanks. Bye. Oh, and, uh, Happy Thanksgiving.”
ix. christmas break
[voicemail]
“Hey Gerri? This is Roman. I hope you’re having a nice holiday or whatever. Ummm, I just wanted to give you a heads up that you might be getting, like, a phone call? From my mom? Because uhhh. I was supposed to go there for Christmas this year, Cheltenham I mean, that’s in England, but there's a sliiiiight possibility that I told her that you said that I'm not legally allowed to leave the country until the whole, y'know, Lambo-blowtorch-whatever bullshit blows over. So if she calls you, can you, y'know, collaborate that or whatever? I’m not sure that's the right word but you know what I mean. Just be like 'nope, yeah, that's exactly right, Lady Caroline, he's fuckin' stuck here in the good ol' U S of A. 'Cause of all… the laws. Not, y’know, because you just got dumped by your latest dumbass weirdo freak boytoy, which means you're gonna be all... weepy and intense and drink an entire French vineyard and scream all kinds of scary shit and give really weird long hugs. And, like, maybe, I don't know, maybe your son is just really fucking busy, with like getting an education or whatever, and just doesn't have the energy for all your weird crap right now? And maybe you could be, like, supportive or some shit and not always trying to guilt trip people into your weird psycho bullshit. But yeah, no, speaking as his legal counsel, they will literally arrest and execute him the second he's over international waters.' Something like that, or, y'know, whatever you want, I'm sure you know something really good to say because you’re all like. Competent at your job, and stuff. Anyway, uhhh, thanks very much in advance! And umm. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, all that dumb shit. OK bye."
x. munchies
“Gerri? Hey, it’s me. I just called Domino’s and they refused to deliver to me. That’s discrimination, right?”
“Did they give you a reason?”
“Something about it being only ten in the morning and they don’t start delivering until eleven.”
“Well, there’s your answer.”
“But it’s a bullshit answer! I’m telling you, they’re totally discriminating against me.”
“On what grounds?”
“Dunno. They’re probably, like, racist against rich people.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Maybe because I’m short. Vertically challenged. That’s a legitimate handicap, Gerri. I feel like you as a corporate attorney should already be aware of that. Someday I will be a very important person at my dad's company, and you'll still be there although of course you'll be super old by that point, and some tall asshole might try to fuck with me and I'll need you to be prepared for that eventuality."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Anyway, you need to call them, like right now, and use your mean lawyer voice and--”
“Roman, I didn’t graduate from the top of my class at one of the most prestigious law schools in the country so that I could spend my Saturday morning ensuring that a teenager doesn’t have to wait an extra hour for a pizza. Just call them back at eleven and quit being a fucking brat.”
“Well damn, Gerri. It sounds shitty when you say it like that."
"Also, I'm fairly certain that you're eating right now, so you can't be that hungry."
"How do you know that?! Are you spying on me? Are there hidden cameras and shit in here?"
"I'm not--"
"Because I'm pretty sure that Dad is actually spying on Kendall. But he's got, y'know. Issues. "
"No one's spying on you, Roman. I know you're eating because I can literally hear you crunching."
"What, these? The Fuyuns?”
“Please don’t speak with your mouth full.”
“Those don’t count, they’re just an appetizer. Hey, can I listen in when you call the pizza people? Your mean lawyer voice is soooo sexy.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Why don’t you just have your dad’s chef send something over?”
“It's always stupid healthy shit and I really really really NEED some cheesy bread like right now--”
“Why do I feel like you’ve been--what was the absurd thing you called it before? Ingesting plants.”
“Uhh, no comment. Gotta go. Byeeee!”
xi.after the tone
[voicemail]
"Hey Gerri. Just called to say hi. What's up. Just to talk or whatever, see how you're doing. Not that I care, I'm just bored as all hell right now.
...Hey, you're not, like, screening my calls, are you? Because that wouldn't be very nice. I am actually a fascinating conversationalist. You should be so lucky.
Anyway, call me back. Or don't, whatever, I don't give a shit."
xii. spring break
“Hey Gerri, just one question real quick--”
“It is never quick with you.”
“Can I sue Shiv? Just, like, sue the everloving shit out of her. Sue her… fucking… bitch balls off. Sue her stupid cunt face until it, I don’t know, falls off onto her tits and drops onto the floor and then I just fuckin’... stomp it into the ground. Is there a law against that?”
“Stomping on her face? Yes, there are definitely laws against that.”
“No, not that, the suing part. I mean I’m still pretty sure it’s a great idea, possibly the best idea anyone’s ever had in the history of the universe, but I got to thinking and I realized that neither one of us technically has any money, so it’d be like Dad suing himself? Which is double indemnity, obviously.”
“That’s not what double indemnity is.”
“The other thing, then. Double jeopardy.”
“Nope.”
“Well, it’s double something. Motherfucker.”
“Why exactly do you want to sue your sister?”
“I’ve been hanging out with these guys from my PoliSci class and they’re really cool and they seemed to really like me, like for real, and they invited me to go skiing in the Alps next week. But then Shiv and her stupid whore face decided one of them was, y’know, ‘hot’ or whatever. Which is bullshit! I know she doesn’t even like him. She’s just doing it to fuck my shit up.”
“This teenaged soap opera is fascinating, Roman. By all means, please continue in great detail. I have all the time in the world.”
“So then she made out with him at this party and started telling him all these SUPER embarrassing stories about me, and he told all the other guys, and long story short now I’m uninvited from skiing and her bitch ass gets to go instead and so I’m gonna to sue the fuck out of her.”
“Uh-huh. Sue her for what exactly?”
“For the, y’know, the thing! The emotional distress and shit. Mental fuckery, whatever.”
“I’m not sure that 'mental fuckery' would stand up in court.”
“It would if I had a good lawyer.”
“Roman, I have things to do.”
“What if the story was about me getting pantsed in front of the football team in the ninth grade? Not that it was, I was extremely cool and popular so obviously that never happened, but I feel like telling that kind of story at a party counts as sexual harassment.”
“Still no.”
“What if I spread a bunch of fucked-up rumors about her? Like that she, I don’t know. Fucks penguins or something. But that’d be libel, right? So then she could sue me back.”
“Well, technically it’s slander, but--Roman, this is absurd. We are not having this conversation. You are not going to sue your sister for embarrassing you at a party.”
“Godddd Gerri. You're such a buzzkill, ugggghhhhh. Okay, so, what if I only told just the one guy she made out with, and I said that she fucked an ostrich. Am I covered there? Legally speaking.”
“How is that any--”
“Well this one time, I was like, I don’t know, twelve maybe? And we went on this safari type thing. Australia, I think. Algeria? Mongolia. I don’t fucking remember. Dust everywhere, hot as balls, whichever one that is.”
“Well, that could actually be any number of places.”
“So this fuckin’ big-ass ostrich tries to climb into our jeep, and it sticks its head down Shiv’s shirt and gets all tangled up in her training bra. She screamed so much that she puked. It was legitimately the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life.”
“What a heartwarming story.”
“Anyway, that means technically the ostrich got to second base, which makes it not a lie so much as an embellishment? Which I assume falls under the jurisdiction of permissible bullshit and that legally I’m in the clear.”
“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”
“Umm. Well.”
“...‘umm, well’ what?”
“This is strictly between the two of us, but it’s sort of not looking super likely that I’m going to pass that particular class? So I figured, why subject myself to the pressure. I mean, I could legitimately end up with an ulcer or have a stroke or something, you know, from all the academic stress. And when you look at it that way, the responsible, adult thing to do would be to avoid that risk, like, the medical risk it poses to my physical person. If you're gonna be my lawyer, Gerri, you need to be considering all the angles. Looking out for the well-being of your client.”
“I'm n-- okay. Sure.”
“So anyway, if I sue Shiv, for the like premeditated emotional fuckery or whatever, you’ll represent me, right?”
“Go to class, Roman.”
“Ugh. Whatever. Lame.”
xiii. possession without intent
[voicemail]
“Hi, Gerri? It’s me. You know, um, the guy. Probably shouldn’t… incriminate myself by saying my name here or whatever. Sooooo… what if somebody, uh, someone with whom one has, like, a fraternal connection, visited me this weekend? And maybe left something super-duper-mega-illegal in the glove compartment of my car? Probably because he knew there would be certain, uh, parental units, paternal individuals as it were, checking his car for said shit, which, y’know, thanks a lot, asshole. But like… I really don’t want to get anyone in trouble, okay? It’s just that I get pulled over for speeding a lot so the cops will probably find it. Could you maybe just--I don’t know--send someone over to get this shit out of my fucking car? Please? I don't know what to do and I’m kind of freaking out right now. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell anybody.”
xiv. zoology 101
“Gerri! Hey Gerri! Guess what? This guy just brought his turtle into the dining hall. Snuck it in here in his backpack. He’s feeding it lettuce and shit from the salad bar, it’s fucking awesome. You know how turtles do the thing? Like with their little faces when they take a biiiiig bite of something with their tiny bitch mouths, it’s the funniest shit ever. They should make a TV show about it. If Dad ever puts me in charge of the studio I’m gonna do that. Small-Ass Turtles Eating Big-Ass Food. Working title, obviously.”
“Umm. Okay. Why are you calling me about--”
“I figured you might want to tell that guy. Y’know. The dude, your whatsisface.”
“Baird? My husband?”
“Yeah. I thought he’d probably be interested ‘cause he has one too. A turtle."
"Tortoise."
"Yeah, this one’s not a big-ass motherfucker like yours. I’m not sure your, y’know, turtle-son or steptortoise or whatever could fit in a backpack.”
“Okay, well, I’ve got to--”
“Maybe a duffel bag or something. You should check, though.”
“Check what?”
“Check to see what kind of bag he’d fit in, duh! In case you were ever on the run and had to leave in a hurry. You wouldn’t want to leave the turtle behind. So you should have your amphibian transport methods worked out ahead of time.”
“Reptile. Why would I be on the run? Never mind. I don't--”
“I dunno, no telling what kind of crazy black ops shit my dad has you getting up to. I’m just making conversation here, fuck."
"Well, it's just that I am currently at work, so--"
"Yeah, whatever. Feel free to hang up if you’ve got something oh so incredibly important to do. Oooo, look at me, fuckin’... super special... lawyer lady, everybody's so impressed. No time to chat with my friend Romey, got folks to sue! Fuck off back up my dad's ass then. Fuck you."
“Well, I would like to point out, just for the record, that I do not do any ‘black ops shit’ for your dad.”
“Yeah, right. He’s probably got you overthrowing some third-world government right now as we speak and I’m just thinking about animal safety in these perilous times, okay? Your stupid husband's stupid turtle deserves better, Gerri. I don’t want it to get abandonment issues and shit when you inevitably have to flee the country for your corporate crimes.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you, I suppose.”
“I mean I realize I’m annoying as fuck, but damn. I do actually care about stuff, you know. I’m not a complete jerk.”
“I know you do. And I’ll be sure to tell Baird about the turtle in the dining hall.”
“Fine. It’s whatever. Talk to you later, I guess. Or not. I don’t actually give a fuck.”
“Sure, Roman. Can’t wait.”