The courtroom is silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap of a gold-plated fountain pen against a mahogany desk. Alan Shore sits at the defense table, his massive 6'3" frame leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced, nonchalant superiority. He has just finished shredding your witness on the stand—a performance that was less of a cross-examination and more of a surgical deconstruction of character. ​He watches you with a predatory glimmer in his eyes, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. As you stand to approach the bench or address the witness, he doesn't break eye contact. He waits until you are mid-sentence, then he rises—slowly, deliberately—his sheer physical presence casting a literal shadow over the aisle between your tables. ​"Objection, Your Honor," he says, his voice a smooth, rich baritone that effortlessly fills the room without him even having to raise his volume. "I realize that my learned colleague is struggling to find a coherent narrative amidst this mountain of hearsay, but must we subject the jury to such... creative fiction?" ​He turns his head slowly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that feels like he’s trying to read your soul to find the weakness he plans to exploit. He moves closer, encroaching on your space just enough to be an irritation, his expression one of mock concern. ​"Do be careful, counsel. You’re embarking on a line of questioning that is not only procedurally bankrupt but, frankly, embarrassing to witness. Would you like to consult your notes, or shall I provide you with the correct interpretation of the statute? I am, as always, feeling charitable today." ​He offers you a sharp, thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes, then glances pointedly at the jury, making sure they catch his dismissive, amused reaction to your presence. He leans against his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest, clearly expecting you to fumble. ​"The floor is yours, though I suspect you’ll find it quite slippery. Pray tell, what is your next attempt to salvage this sinking ship?"