"I love the badass routine. Truly! It's a modern-day masterpiece, Mr. Laurent. The problem is- Ivan over there is going to file your teeth down and clip off some nerve endings," An Armani-clad man said looking down at a ragged man strapped to a chair.

"..." The man in the chair looked to the corner and then back to the suit.

"Silence won't help you here. I'm trying to make an important financial decision that affects you directly. See, Ivan's services don't come cheap, and while I'm of considerable means, I'm still a thrifty lad at heart. So why don't you do both of us a favor and confess?"

"Truth be told, Ivan isn't even his real name. It's Steve. In light of the new-wave McCarthyism, Steve figured the appeal of a cold-blooded, vaguely Soviet wetworks man would appeal to some darker natures. In any case, you've got a minute to decide whether I commission the wetworks marketing wunderkind or not."