Name: Luke Atmey

Vehicle: Sir Quackers (We… We thought that we've seen it all, but we were so very wrong. This guy is off his rocker! Seriously, Atmey's driving- and we're not joking when we say this- a giant yellow, cartoony, open-top rubber ducky on eight wheels! When we questioned him on this decision, Atmey told us that, "the vehicle's harmless façade will lure my foes into a false sense of security, allowing me to best them with ease. That, and something about it just feels right." But really, a duck?! Why!?)

Vehicle Armor: 4/5 (You've got to give Atmey some credit. He may have disturbing tastes in vehicles, but that duck is way stronger than it looks.)

Vehicle Speed: 3/5 (The fact that that duck can actually get up hills and stairs as quickly as it does makes us legitimately terrified.)

Vehicle Handling: Sluggish (The power of physics compels you, o demon duck! Thank goodness that thing's bulky design doesn't allow for quick turning.)

Special Weapon: 5/5 (Atmey Virus- The Atmey Virus is one of the most dangerous diseases to ever exist and for very good reason. Designed to kill anyone without Atmey genetics, this deadly combination of fast-acting variants of the Ebola, CCHF, and rabies viruses will do that within a matter of minutes to anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the mad detective's disease grenade launcher. Luckily, Kristoph will be safely out of range as he watches the action unfold from the safety of his dirigible.)

Bio: Salutations, dear viewer! I am Luke Atmey, Ace Detective and strategist supreme. I can't believe that Mr. Gavin can be so sadistic- not because of the very nature of this competition, but because he's actually allowing me to compete; for that is the equivalency of having Einstein and Newton face-off against a group of kindergarteners in a battle of mathematical wit! But who am I to complain? Achieving victory in this clash of cars, this skirmish of skidding, this motorized mayhem, whatever you so wish to call it, shall be easier than taking priceless art from a crying former security guard!


In the ruins of what used to be L.A., Kristoph Gavin stands face-to-face with Luke Atmey, the winner of Debauched Steel who has come to claim his prize: a wish for anything that he could possibly imagine.

"Congratulations, Mr. Atmey. You're the winner of Debauched Steel. Now what-"

"SHHH! SILENCE!" Luke orders, leaning forward with an intense scowl as if he is trying to stare right through the deranged ex-attorney. "… Zvarri! The truth has been once again elegantly revealed to me like dust in the morning sun! You are a former attorney…"

"Yes, that's correct, Mr. Atmey. I-"

"A former attorney who has yet to come out of the closest, like a new sweater- or in your case, a brand-new neon-pink feather boa." Luke smirks, holding up his hand to show off his red diamond ring.

"WHAT!?" Kristoph shouts, nearly stumbling back out of shock. "What on earth would give you such an absurd idea?!"

"Why, it's quite elementary, Sir Host." The Ace Detective states matter-of-factly as he polishes his monocle. "The first clue that caught my ever-vigilant eye was your periwinkle suit, the most flamboyant of blues; followed then by your effeminate, well-kept nails; and then by your distinct hairstyle, which is undeniably modeled after male genitalia- and if the length is of any indication, you feel the need to compensate for yours."

"I do not need to compensate for anything, Atmey!" Kristoph snarls with crossed arms, flashing the Ace Detective a death glare. "And while I may be more fashionable than most other men, I am completely heterosexual."

"And so I come to the crux of my argument…" Luke states, his tilted up in distinction. "Your burning, unfettered attraction to one Mr. Phoenix Wright."

"No…" Kristoph seethes as he pushes up his glasses with a shaky hand. "Just… no. Such a ludicrous idea isn't worth getting worked up over."

"Zvarri! You may say one thing, Sir Host, but Luke Atmey, Ace Detective, is not so easily fooled. Based on the evidence I have previously presented regarding your sexual preferences, coupled with rumors I've heard from women regarding Mr. Wright's looks- stating that he is a 'D.I.L.F. with a six-pack that can grate cheese'- you were drawn to him like a moth to the flame. However, afraid of the ramifications regarding your coming out of the closet, you chose to suppress your feelings. This sexual frustration then proceeded to manifest itself in the form of you destroying Mr. Wright's career, followed by stalking him for seven long years- pretending to be his friend and lavishing him with dinners and grape juice in the hopes that one day he would return your feelings of love; so that you could finally caress your beautiful blazing bird."

As the egotistical detective continues on with his disturbing train of thought, Kristoph growls through clenched teeth, his arms crossed as his left eye begins to twitch as his anger grows with each passing word.

"So tell me, Sir Host, is my brilliant conclusion so ludicrous now?" Luke asks, his right eye staring through his monocle/magnifying glass as he moves it back and forth. "Is- Gwagwagwagwawaaaah!" The Ace Detective yells as he is sent tumbling to the ground by a swift punch to the jaw from the host of Debauched Steel.

"Utter one more word regarding me having such sick, twisted fantasies about my arch enemy, and the next case you'll be working on will be The Mysterious Incident of the Missing Bothersome Detective." Kristoph hisses.

"Zvarri! The truth has once again been revealed to me, Sir Host…" Luke groans as he picks himself up off the ground. "When you were in grade school, you received the same report card every year. 'A perfectionist in all subjects, but prone to losing his head when people disagree with his views'… Correct?"

"H-How did you…!?" Kristoph reels back out of shock. "Never mind. Just make your wish already so I don't have to deal with you any longer."

"With pleasure!" Luke smirks as he raises his right hand. "I seek the one thing that has eluded mankind since the dawn of time; a concept many an alchemist has spent a lifetime searching for. My desire? Immortality, Sir Host. I wish that my zavarkling visage and brilliant mind can stand the test of time and be gazed upon in splendor for many generations to come."

"Granted." Kristoph replies with a sinister grin.

The host of Debauched Steel raises his arms in the air, causing bolts of electricity to stream between his hands, emitting a blinding light. But when the light diminishes, Luke is nowhere to be found, and in his place is a stone statue in his smug likeness on a pedestal with a plaque on it reading, 'Luke Atmey- Ace Detective'.

Kristoph chuckles to himself as he gazes upon his handiwork. "Quite the legacy you've left behind, Mr. Atmey. But alas…" The former defense attorney shakes his head. "For every person who leaves a legacy upon this earth, there is always another who seeks to destroy it. Like this!"

The host of Debauched Steel snaps his fingers, causing a sledgehammer to appear in his hands before slamming the blunt, heavy head into the statue's right arm, snapping it off the body.

"And this!"

With a second swing of the hammer, the stone Atmey's left knee is shattered, causing the statue to fall off of the pedestal and land face up on the ground with a loud thud.

"And most certainly this!"

The demented host winds his hammer back with a wicked, toothy grin on his face and a crazed look in his eyes before delivering the coup de grace to the statue's head, reducing it to a cloud of dust which is quickly swept away by a sudden breeze.

"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Mr. Atmey. Or in your case, don't go accusing people of losing their heads unless you want to lose yours." Kristoph sneers before turning to the camera. "I'm Kristoph Gavin, and I thank you for watching Debauched Steel."


A/N: I would like to thank AlyCat20 for submitting the idea for this chapter.