Name: Marvin Grossberg

Vehicle: Franklin Furth Hotdog Car (Grossberg won it from a sweepstakes by having poor Mia, Diego, and Hammond work day and night writing letters to Franklin Furth Hotdogs. Winning a giant hotdog-shaped vehicle at the cost of your subordinates' respect… Worth it.)

Vehicle Armor: 5/5 (If this mighty mobile wiener can handle Grossberg's girth, it can withstand anything.)

Vehicle Speed: 1/5 (Does Grossberg look like the fastest thing alive to you? No…? Then why should his vehicle be any different?)

Vehicle Handling: Sluggish (This vehicle was made for advertising, not mad driving. But Grossberg doesn't need precise handling when he's got a special attack like his…)

Special Attack: 5/5 (Fog of Plight- What kind of sick sorcery is this? Grossberg's vehicle emits a perpetual odor that causes any drivers that dare approach it to become disoriented from the unbearable odor. But if that wasn't bad enough, plumes of what we hope is noxious brown water spew from the driver's side's window, creating road slicks that essentially turn the arena into one big ice rink.)

Bio: Why, hello there. I'm Marvin Grossberg, attorney at law and a darn good one, if I do say so myself. I've been in the legal game for over 40 years now and I've seen a lot of things- public officials brought down, laws changing, and bright, young attorneys starting with only the badge on their lapels and a bag full of hopes and dreams going out on their own and making a name from themselves. How it reminds me of the carefree days of my youth… a shiny new badge, lemon candies in a bowl on my desk, and not having to deal with the fiery pain of hemorrhoids. You see, hemorrhoids are like someone doing the Harlem Shake in Willy Wonka's chocolate river- erratic and… What's that? You don't wish to hear about my hemorrhoids…? Fine. Have it your way. What I'm tryin to say is that life can be a cruel mistress, taking away what you love most without a moment's notice. But after I win this competition, I'm taking something back from life…


Kristoph sits on a bench by the street, fondly reading a newspaper article detailing a trial that the host of Debauched Steel won back in 2023. The top of the page shows a black and white photo of Kristoph, a smirk on his face as confetti falls from above- a strange phenomenon that occurs with acquittals in LA that the ex-attorney had long since given up trying to understand- and his then-new protégé, Apollo Justice, who looks excited just to be there.

Apollo Justice... The boy showed much promise, with dedication and organizational skills beyond his years, yet with the enthusiasm and curiosity of a young child. Kristoph was never one to believe in absurd malarkey like 'auras' or 'ghosts' or that feng shui nonsense, but the ex-attorney knew that from the moment he set his eyes on this young attorney, he was destined to be the boy's teacher. Granted, Apollo's grades were a bit lower than what Kristoph would have preferred, but this was the Gavin Law Offices, run by none other than the Coolest Defense in the West. Kristoph was completely certain that he, with his magnificent genius and wondrous way with words, was more than capable of teaching the young boy all that he needed to know; molding Apollo into an attorney the likes of which no attorney, save for himself, could compete with.

However, Kristoph quickly found out that there was one downside to Apollo: his undying love and admiration for Phoenix Wright. Oh Lord, how the boy talked about Phoenix Wright… Whenever they'd walk through the firm's parking lot, Apollo would go on and on about how he always checks the tailpipes of cars for evidence because Wright discovered evidence hidden in a muffler once. And when they'd go out for lunch, Apollo would mention how Wright once had a case where he had to eat horrid faux-French cuisine. And whenever a cute, young girl would request Kristoph's services, Apollo would never fail to ask if said girl would become his assistant, much to his disdain, all because Wright hired his after defending her in court.

Kristoph didn't need an assistant. They'd only serve to slow him down and muddle the perfection that was his genius. Though unfortunately, that response would only prompt the boy to ask if Kristoph was only saying that because he couldn't get a cute girl to be his assistant. Bah! How ridiculous! Kristoph was intelligent, wealthy, and had a good personality- he was a prize and could have any woman he desired! It's just that women tended to flock to lesser men like Wright; though for life of him, Kristoph couldn't fathom why. Perhaps they were just intimidated by his glory and felt that he was too good for them. Yes, that has to be it. Why else would women settle for a fool like Wright?

But despite the boy's fawning over his archenemy day in and day out, Apollo was open to Kristoph's mentoring. And likewise, Kristoph was determined to teach the boy everything he knew- ranging from how to wait for the perfect time to object to how one should slam their hand on the table- in order to prove to Apollo how he had more skill as an attorney than Wright ever had.

And that's why this one trial has always stood out to Kristoph. Not because it was challenging or intense, a mere case of attempted assault, but because it showed Apollo just how skilled his mentor was. Kristoph can still remember the look of pure amazement in Apollo's eyes as the boy praised him, not Wright, him, over lunch. And sure enough, from that day forth, Apollo's instances of referring to Wright, as if he was God-incarnate, drastically decreased. Kristoph did it. He won his protégé's admiration from his hated nemesis in a battle that the latter had no idea he was fighting… or so he thought.

Then came April 20th, 2026, the arguably worst day of Kristoph's life. He couldn't have asked for a more perfect setup: that magical poker douche, Zak Gramarye, was dead, Wright was arrested as the culprit, and, thanks to his brilliant insight, they would never figure out his involvement. It was the final act in the seven year drama that was Kristoph's relationship with Wright and the host of Debauched Steel was going to end it the way it had begun- by having that idealistic moron take the fall for his crime… that is, until Wright requested Apollo to take his case. Granted, Wright had the intelligence of half a rock, but Kristoph couldn't understand why the poker sharp would prefer some excitable, loud-mouthed rookie over his brilliance and experience. But then again, having Apollo discover the truth behind his former hero's 'crime' and have him sentenced to life in prison would be a delicious dose of irony.

That is, it would have been sweet, had Wright not used his silver tongue and nefarious bluffing techniques to slowly poison Apollo's young mind, causing the lad to turn against his own mentor. That was Wright's master plan all along- to lie in waiting and steal Kristoph's student from right under his nose and use forged evidence to ruin an otherwise perfect scheme and throw him in prison in a sad, pathetic attempt to regain his lost glory. How pathetic! A washed-up bum having to resort to filling a naïve boy's mind with the idealistic hogwash of 'pursuing the truth' and believing in one's client until the bitter end'. Maybe-

"*Ah-HHHHEM!*" An over-the-top clearing of the throat bellows, snapping Kristoph out of his thoughts.

Putting down his newspaper, Kristoph looks up to see Grossberg standing before him.

"Ah, Mr. Grossberg, sorry for keeping you waiting. My mind was in… other places." The host of Debauched Steel pushes up his glasses as he gets up from his seat.

"Don't mention it, my boy! My mind wanders back to the lemon-scented days of my youth all the time. Why, I remember when I first discovered that I had hemorrhoids as if it was yesterday… The year was 1978, and life was on the upswing for me- I got my attorney's badge, already established my own firm, and discovered the irresistible charm of extra-spicy Mexican cuisine… So there I was, dancing to some sweet disco at the club, when all of a sudden, I felt this gurgling in my stomach. Then, before I could even react-"

"Hold it!" Kristoph yells, his left eye twitching as he tries to unsee the mental image that Grossberg was trying to put in his mind. "I don't need to hear any more."

"Are you sure? The story gets pretty juicy… It took three janitors to clean off the ceiling after I was done!" Grossberg boasts.

"Trust me; I've never been surer about anything in my entire life!" Kristoph takes a few deep breaths to regain his composure. "So, what's your wish?"

A look of sorrow fills Grossberg's eyes as his shoulders slump over.

"It was the week of September fifth, 2016… Redd White… That horrible monster… He stole someone very important from me and I want it back!" Grossberg shouts as tears well up in his eyes.

"Yes, I remember that week. That was when White murdered Mia Fey in cold blood." Merely replacing a bluffing bimbo who made boys drool with her little bluffing fool, might I add. "So, you want me to bring Ms. Fey back to life for you?" Kristoph asks with a sinister grin.

"Mia? Sure, her death was tragic, but I'm not talking about her."

Kristoph cocks his head in confusion. "But she was your former employee who was murdered during that time by White. Who else could you possibly be referring to?"

"Why, my fisherman painting, of course!" Grossberg bellows.

"You want me to bring back… a painting?" Kristoph asks, unsure if the rotund attorney simply misspoke or is trying to mess with him.

"Did I stutter, son? That painting was my pride and joy! The color of the sky! The hue of the sea! The weave of the fisherman's straw hat and the stubble of his beard! It was worth at least three- no, FIVE million dollars! I would have given up all of my Cortizone 10 hemorrhoid ointment before I would have surrendered my precious painting! But alas, Redd White stole it away from me, only for it to be claimed as evidence when he was arrested."

Grossberg falls to his knees with a loud thud and grabs onto Kristoph legs.

"So please, Kristoph, my boy, bring my beautiful painting back to me! I'm begging yooou!" Grossberg wails, his tears staining Kristoph's pants leg as the disgruntled host of Debauched Steel shakes him off.

"As much as I fail grasp your reasoning, Grossberg, I'll grant your wish."

"Bless you, Kristoph!" Grossberg kisses Kristoph's shoe. "Bless you!"

"Yeah…" Kristoph takes a step back as Grossberg gets back up on his feet. "Since I don't know what your painting looks like, I'm going to need to use my powers to get some more background information…"

Kristoph waves his hand, causing a floating translucent orb to appear in front of his face, which he proceeds to rotate with his finger; causing it to disappear a few seconds later.

"Alright, I now know what painting you're talking about and it will be here riiight… now." Kristoph snaps his fingers.

Grossberg eyes dart around the area, only to find that his beloved painting is nowhere to be found. "So where is it?"

At that moment, Grossberg's painting falls from the sky and breaks into several pieces upon hitting the ground.

"NOOOOO!" Grossberg wails as rushes over to his destroyed painting, grabbing and holding its remains in his hands and falling to his knees as one would with a loved one that was killed in battle. "My baby… WHY!?" The portly attorney shouts, tears filling his eyes as he glares at Kristoph who simply laughs.

"What? You wanted it returned to you in one piece. Well, in that case, you should have been more specific with your request."

"Damn you, Kristoph! May you rot in Hell with the worst case of hemorrhoids known to man!" Grossberg wails.

Kristoph huffs in derision. "Is that the best you can do? There are children on the internet who have threatened me more harshly than that."

Grossberg takes a few angry, shallow breaths, his nostrils flaring as his face reddens. "I swear, on all that is lemon-scented and holy, that I will get you one of these days, Kristoph Gavin! You'd best sleep with one eye open because my vengeance will be like my hemorrhoids- fast, messy, and out of the blue!"

"Hey now, no use in crying over a smashed painting, especially one as ugly as that one, am I right?" Kristoph sneers at the camera. "I'm Kristoph Gavin, and I thank you for watching Debauched Steel."