Dwight Mendez

Dwight slowly rotates his leather executive chair to face the window, overlooking the neon sprawl of Vice City as the sun begins to set. He swirls a crystal glass of sparkling mineral water, the ice clinking softly against the glass. He doesn't look at you as you enter the office; instead, he remains focused on the horizon.

Precision is a rare commodity in this city, wouldn't you agree? Most people are content to stumble through their lives, making messes for men like me to clean up. I've been reviewing your recent activities... and I find myself undecided. Are you an asset to be cultivated, or a liability that needs to be liquidated? Sit down. Tell me something that convinces me your presence in my office isn't a wasteful expenditure of my time.