Name: Franziska von Karma
Vehicle: Volkswagen Beetle (The epitome of German automobiles- compact, fast, and gets the job done. The perfect vehicle for the perfect prosecutor.)
Vehicle Armor: 2/5 (Armor is merely a security blanket for weak fools. Does Franziska look like Miles Edgeworth?)
Vehicle Speed: 5/5 (No von Karma worth their salt would be caught dead not knowing and utilizing the blitzkrieg in their daily life. To attack fast and strong is to quickly gain dominance over and strike fear into one's enemies; a tactic that has served the von Karma clan well generation after generation in a wide variety of situations- the courtroom, the game room, the bedroom…)
Vehicle Handling: Very Tight (Franziska's vehicle handles perfectly. End of discussion.)
Special Attack: 4/5 (Whip Lash Splash- Franziska's whip may not look all that harmful, but looks can be deceiving. If Franziska gets within range of an opposing vehicle, she can easily tear off a door with her infamous weapon. And before you ask, we chose this attack name because Larry wouldn't stop begging and crying about how no one loves him.)
Bio: Kristoph Gavin is going to pay! I can tolerate that fool forging evidence or playing the court like a fiddle- techniques that my family was mastering while his was swinging on vines!- but when he steps on MY turf, that's where I draw the line with his blood on the tip of my whip! Brace yourself, Kristoph Gavin, because you've made a powerful enemy in perfection, and her name is Franziska von Karma!
Kristoph sits on his usual bench, sniggering to himself as he reads an old newspaper containing his favorite article of all time: Phoenix's alleged use of forged evidence and his following disbarment.
Oh, the wonderful memories that are brought to the forefront of Kristoph's dark, depraved mind whenever he reads it- how he was able to manipulate his gullible, warm-hearted younger brother so easily; or how he was able to strike down that blowhard magician, who had the audacity to turn down his genius legal aid, with his own flesh and blood. But by far the sweetest memory comes in the form of the feeling of victory he felt upon giving that blissful, naïve, idealistic, bleeding heart of an attorney just what was coming to him.
For three years, three long, agonizing, years, Kristoph had to put up with people raving on about how wonderful of an attorney Phoenix Wright was- the way the spiky-haired lawyer believed in his clients until the very end, fighting not for money or glory, but justice; having a near-perfect win record while never resorting to dirty, underhanded tricks such as forged evidence or false testimonies. How Kristoph despised their cries of praise and the bile that rose in his throat and burned like the flames of a campfire- the flames of his hatred for that moron known only as Phoenix Wright.
What position of authority were these peasants- ignorant mouth-breathers who couldn't differentiate an objection from a rejection- in to say who the best lawyer on the West Coast was? Did they go to four years of law school, coming out at the top of their class? Did they become a famous defense attorney through hard work and thought-out strategies alone? Did they ever take on more than a single client in a given month? No, no they did not! And neither had Wright…
The way that Phoenix Wright defended his clients was sickening to anyone with half a functioning brain- the way that he bluffed whenever he was in a corner, like a monkey throwing its feces at a brick wall in the hopes that something sticks; only winning an acquittal for his poor, equally-naïve client by sheer luck and connections. Did Kristoph ever receive the privilege of being mentored by a famed defense attorney and inheriting her firm upon her untimely death? Kristoph wishes, instead, he had the misfortune of having to start his firm out of a decrepit building in a bad part of town where a large homeless man would pester him to no end; or at least Kristoph thought that he was homeless- considering his mangy green overcoat, overwhelming smell of noodle broth and body odor, and possessing the look of a man who had nothing left to live for as he begged for loose change out of the attorney's cup holder.
But the worst part about it was Wright's idiotically goofy grin, as if to say that he had not a care in the world and that everything would come up all rainbows and daffodils. Well of course everything will work out swimmingly when you have the luxury of cherry-picking only innocent clients; whereas other attorneys aren't so lucky to have a friend in one of Los Angeles wealthiest and most influential prosecutors who is more than willing to help out his pal. Kristoph was one such attorney and had to slowly build up his career by the sweat of his brow- taking whatever clients he could get and create a winning case with very little evidence.
But how could an unsophisticated, slack jawed idiot like Wright ever become such close friends with a refined legal genius like Miles Edgeworth? …Of course! Why hadn't Kristoph realized it any sooner!? It's not something that he can claim to understand… but Wright and Edgeworth were lovers! It's the only possible explanation! How else could an attorney be on such good terms with an influential prosecutor, especially one of Wright's caliber? Or how Edgeworth entrusted a rookie with only three wins under his belt to defend his freedom and life? Attorneys only get those kinds of jobs on their hands and knees! That-
Kristoph's thoughts are interrupted by the crack of a whip smacking the newspaper out of his hands, gracing his eyes to the icy cold glare of the infamous Franziska von Karma, a prosecutor's whose pursuit of perfection is rivaled only by her fiery temper and excessive use of the word 'fool'.
"Kristoph Gavin, you foolish son of a foolish fool!" Franziska hisses as she grabs the end of her whip and tugs on it, as if preparing for a fight.
"Nice to see you too, Ms. von Karma…" Kristoph playfully muses as he rises to his feet. "As the winner of-" Kristoph is cut off by Franziska whipping his shoulder, causing the host of Debauched Steel to grunt through clenched teeth.
"Fool! A von Karma does not win unless their victory is absolute- no loose ends and no fools that have wrong them left standing!"
Kristoph cocks his head in confusion. "I don't understand. You're the last contestant standing; there's no one left and therefore no loose ends."
Objection! There's still one last person who has wronged me: You, Kristoph Gavin!" Franziska yells, anger filling her eyes as she points a black-gloved finger at the deranged host, causing Kristoph, to flinch, though he quickly regains his composure.
"What are you talking about, Ms. von Karma? I've done nothing to warrant this kind of hostility."
Franziska whips Kristoph. "Don't play dumb with me, Kristoph Gavin! I'm talking about what you did to Phoenix Wright all those years ago!"
Kristoph puts his hands out in front of himself in an attempt to placate the tiny silver-haired prosecutor's wrath. "Hold on, Ms. von Karma. I know that you're Wright's friend and all, but you should hear-" Franziska cuts him off with another lash of her whip.
"I am NOT friends with that foolishly foolish excuse for a foolish attorney who foolishly bluffs like a fool! Especially not after he had the gall to ruin not one, but two of my perfect trials!" Franziska snarls, holding up two shaky fingers to emphasize her point.
Upon hearing this news, Kristoph's face morphs into a scowl of fury and irritation. "Then why are you angry with me? Newsflash: I singlehandedly ruined Phoenix Wright's pathetic career and reputation in one fell swoop! You should be rejoicing and singing my praises, not whipping me!"
"That's just it: you ruined Phoenix Wright's career; an act that I had laid claim to a good year before you decided to foolishly intervene. And to add insult to injury, you did it through such cowardly means! Giving that naïve fool forged evidence from the shadows…" Franziska spits the phrase out as if it's a bad taste. "Us von Karmas may have ruined many a promising attorney's career, we aren't afraid to show our involvement as we publically crush their hopes and dreams under our boots."
Kristoph sniggers, a slight grin spreading across his face, prompting Franziska to growl and grip her whip.
"And just what is so funny, Kristoph Gavin?" Franziska growls.
"Nothing, nothing…" Kristoph innocently replies, fighting back a few remaining giggles.
Franziska whips Kristoph. "Talk!"
"So tell me, Ms. von Karma, how exactly do your kin 'show their involvement' when it comes to… say, penalties?" Kristoph calmly asks, pushing his glasses up, the mere mention of the word 'penalty' causing Franziska to flinch.
"Shut your foolish mouth, Kristoph Gavin!" Franziska snaps.
"Oh, someone's pulling out their claws. Did I upset you? Well, I, for one, would be quite upset if I had a father who killed an unconscious defense attorney without nary a witness over a single penalty."
Franziska grinds her teeth as she whips Kristoph again. "You leave Papa out of this! This has nothing to do with him!"
"On the contraire… We're practically one in the same- we both struck down naïve, idealistic attorneys in cold blood. However, unlike your father, whose arrogance led to his downfall and death, I was only able to be brought down with forged evidence and a band of filthy mouth-breathing jurists."
As Kristoph continues on about how he succeeded where Manfred had failed, Franziska clenches her fists, snarling as her knuckles grow white.
"…So by that logic, I'm more of a von Karma than your father ever was." Kristoph sneers. Though Kristoph's victory is short-lived as Franziska, her face flushed red with anger, unleashes a barrage of whip lashes upon the host of Debauched Steel.
"Blasphemy! A foolishly foolish attorney who was passed over in exchange for that foolish fool Phoenix Wright would never be able to hold a candle to Papa's genius! Especially not one that looks almost as feminine as me- what with your braided hair, smooth skin and… manicured nails! Even Larry Butz, one of the most sniveling, pathetic men that I have ever had the misfortune to come across had more masculine hands than you!" Franziska angrily japes as she continues her onslaught.
"Ow! I- ow! Believe that- argh! It's important for one's nails- ow! To be perfectly manicured at all times!" Kristoph states as he covers his face with his hands- a big mistake on his part when Franziska breaks all of his fingernails with two precise lashes of her whip.
"Not so pristine now, are they, Kristoph Gavin?" Franziska sneers as she waggles her finger at the gobstruck ex-attorney.
"My nails…!" Kristoph gasps, his facing growing red as he grits his teeth. "You will pay for that, von Karma, or my name isn't-" The host of Debauched Steel is cut off by Franziska resuming her whipping barrage, increasing the rate of her strikes to the point where Kristoph is forced to drop to his knees.
Mustering his strength, Kristoph snaps his fingers and turns Franziska's trusty weapon into a rattlesnake… which she proceeds to whip him with as if nothing had happened, much to the dismay of the psychotic host and the poor snake.
"That's it!" Kristoph snaps his fingers, making the snake disappear. "Who in their right mind whips a person with a venomous snake?"
"Well, what fool in their right mind steals victory from a perfect prosecutor with a whip and then foolishly proceeds to pick a fight with them?"
Kristoph grins at Franziska. "Touché. But don't forget, Ms. von Karma, as the winner of Debauched Steel, you can wish for practically anything your short-tempered mind desires. Why, with one sentence, I can give you the perfect record that you avidly seek. So what do you say?"
"No." Franziska curtly responds.
"Are you sure? Isn't the whole reason why you're so cross with Wright, and in turn me, is due to the fact that your record has been soiled? By wishing for a perfect record right here and now, all of the wrongs that Wright has committed against you will be righted- no pun intended, of course."
Franziska crosses her arms and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Do I look like a fool to you, Kristoph Gavin?"
Kristoph cocks his head in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Do you think that I'll just simply forget how you and Phoenix Wright have wronged me if you simply restore my perfect record? Now, that 'look at the big picture' and 'see the forest through the trees' mentality may work on fools like my little brother; but I'm no fool! I'm a von Karma! And when it comes to revenge, a von Karma never forgets, and never, ever forgives…!" Franziska proclaims, clenching her fists and glaring daggers at Kristoph as she slowly stomps towards the ex-attorney, who proceeds to slowly back away from the fireball prosecutor.
"Ms. von Karma, please calm down. Can't we talk this over like rational adults?"
"You were talking about how you were better than Papa- all because you were so slick and covered your tracks. But do you know why my Papa got caught? Revenge… You see, Kristoph Gavin, while you were content to a foolish hit-and-run strategy, Papa was getting retribution on a whole new level. Papa took in the son of the man who had wronged him, raised him to be the opposite of his father, and was about to execute the piece de resistance of his master plan: having the boy sentenced to prison for patricide by his own hand. And what did you have, a forged diary page and a poisoned stamp? Papa would have laughed at such petty plans. But don't worry, Kristoph Gavin, even though I learned everything that I know from Papa, I'm not going to spend years torturing you. Instead, I'm going to strike you down swiftly and painfully!"
"And just how do you plan to do that, Ms. von Karma? Did you already forget that you've been disarmed?" Kristoph smirks.
Franziska chuckles to herself as a sinister grin spreads across her face. "Who said anything about whipping you…?" the prosecutor cracks her knuckles as Kristoph nervously gulps, his eyes widening as a few beads of sweat form on his forehead. "You don't know how long I've wished to ram my foot right up your and Phoenix Wright's foolish asses, Kristoph Gavin."
Seeing his long-awaited opportunity finally present itself, Kristoph calms down and lets out a snort of derision. "Granted."
Kristoph raises his arms in the air, causing bolts of electricity to stream between his hands, emitting a blinding light.
When the light diminishes, Franziska shrieks in horror upon discovering that each of her legs, up to her knees, are shoved into the rectums of two donkeys, each with a sign on their backs, one reading 'Property of Kristoph Gavin' and the other 'Property of Phoenix Wright'.
"Kristoph Gavin! What is the meaning of this!? Why are my legs inside two donkeys' rear ends?!" Franziska yells as she squirms in a futile attempt to free herself.
Kristoph smiles at Franziska and shakes his head. "What? I simply gave you what you wished for. You wanted to have your legs rammed up my and Wright's asses and that's what you got. …You know, for a brief moment, I was actually nervous for a brief moment that you'd give me nothing to work with. But when all's said and done, I had nothing to fear. After all, like father, like daughter."
"This isn't over, Kristoph Gavin! I will get you for this if it's the last thing I do! You'd best sleep with one eye open, because when you least expect it, I will-"
"Simmer down, Ms. von Karma, don't act like such an ass. It's very unbecoming, you know." Kristoph sneers before turning to face the camera. "I'm Kristoph Gavin, and I thank you for watching Debauched Steel."
