Stelengum had been busy since he had arrived in Black Bottom. It was a gut wrenching decision for him to leave his pupil and first disciple behind in the not so capable beaded fists of abacus (thanks for the shout out by the way, you name stealing little fuck), but he had no choice. The road in Black Bottom was one he must walk alone. 

Well, almost alone. Upon arriving in the city Stelengum had set to work on setting up his crew. He had watched the local operation and it was at best basic and at worst embarrassing. It hadn't taken him long to run the local hood rats out of a fine piece of real estate and soon he was muscling in on a decent narcotics racket. He wasn't making as much green as he would have liked, but he had enough to grease the palms of those who needed greasing and enough to hire some heavies of his own to protect the product he was putting out. It was a slow start, but not together surprising. Fortunately he had enough to bankroll the new operation and still send enough to keep the bosses happy. 

He was sitting alone in one of the pews in the local church that he had decided to make his base of operations. He would dedicate it officially to Roberto_Carlos (Consigliere), Greatest and Best, in the future but it needed work before it would be ready. The façade wasn't worthy to carry that name yet and the altar which would resemble the shapely tennis-honed buttocks of the head of the faith was currently lacking plumpness.  

"Stelly? Stelly, I need work man. I need work. I've been stuck in London and I've..I've" The dishevelled man was near enough now that Stelengum could ignore his rambling and look into the face making all that annoying noise. It was a big, fat, ugly face and for a minute he wondered just how far HandsomeRob had fallen and so quickly. Then he realised that this was an altogether different and altogether more pathetic creature.

"Shutup. Crandle? Is that you? I thought you were dead." Stelengum split his famous grin as he sighted the grotesque form of his former disciple. The man had been riding his coattails for years and Stelengum had finally been forced to cut him loose when his burger addiction had squashed even his love of the faith.

"Not dead. Not yet" Crandle snarled. "I need work though Stelly. I'm back. I've refound the faith too..." He trailed off. Stelengum could tell if a man loved Roberto from 500 paces, he was like a shark with blood only his gift was scenting sufficient adoration for his mighty deity. He gave a sniff. Intrigued, he gave a second sniff.

"You really have! Crandle, you prince!" And Stelengum rose and embraced his apprentice, welcoming him back to the fold. They exchanged the Giving for several minutes. Both savoured it. Stelengum broke it off. "Come Crandle, we have work to do. Prolong just got smoked and we need to make sure we pick up his routes."

Stelengum charged off like he was chasing down a perfect drop shot. Crandle followed in his wake. Just like always.

It had been another tumultuous few hours for Stelengum's crew. They had been hard at work making sure they had the market cornered, stepping up their heroin supply until the slums drowned in it. They had managed to integrate some of Prolong's territory into their own patch and Crandle had managed not to plough through all of their profits. It was proving to be a very lucrative time in Black Bottom.

"Stelly, trouble's a brewing" Crandle announced as he slithered his way towards Stelengum, who was stood behind the altar, a large stack of cash piled behind him. Crandle moved appropriately through the different patterns required before one could converse freely with an Atoast of Robertology, and Stelengum noted with pride the extra hip thrust he gave during Downward Facing Roberto. 

"What's up?" Stelengum asked whilst perusing the latest reports from some trouble in Paradise Valley. 

"Word on the street is that Fillmore, Kostello and Hitta got dropped last night. People saying it was Supreme Team and Legion folk that carried out the hit." Crandle waited patiently. His eyes flicking intermittently to the stacks of notes behind his leader. Stelengum was sure he was calculating how many burgers he could buy with all that green and he was sure he caught the faint rumble of the man's stomach. He ignored it.

"Confirm the reports. I want to know for sure." Stelengum announced before taking a page and scribbling two quick notes before handing them over to Crandle. "Once you've confirmed it, give these to Joachim and make sure he does it today."

Crandle looked over the notes. Despite each only being several lines long, it took him 45 minutes to finish reading them. He was many things, Crandlej, a fat wanker being high on the list, but he certainly wasn't a competent reader. Finally, he deposited them into one of his many pockets, with a familar crunch of burger wrappers.

"You're sure about that?" Crandle asked as Stelengum quickly divided the piles of cash behind him and started placing it into large sacks.

"Of course" Stelengum said "We've managed to pick up some great routes here and we should share the wealth with our friends. Everyone loves five hundred large in their back pocket, right?"

"If you say so, Atoast." Crandle answered, not entirely convinced and more than a little jealous that the cash wasn't being added to his dwindling burger budget.

"Now, get out of here. There's a lot to do." Stelengum announced, before shouting at Crandle's retreating back "And make sure you speak to the carpenter about this altar. The right buttock isn't nearly pinchable or bouncy enough. It should protrude three feet from the crack. THREE! Bloody hell. Roberto would fucking shit if he saw this!"  

"I don't want to hear it Crandle. I don't want to hear it!" Stelengum shouted as he banged his mighty ebony fist on the altar. "Three bosses got clipped and you're telling me we still haven't picked up all of St. Antoine yet?"

"We've made progress, Atoast, it's just not that easy" Crandle answered, his hand shaking from the saturated fat overdose he had experienced from shotgunning four burgers back to back. He hadn't expected the summons to the Church and it was showing.

"Why isn't it? We've got the muscle, or at least we fucking should have the amount I'm paying your goons, and we've certainly got the product. We own half of the clubs in Paradise Valley and we've had Hastings in our pocket since day one" Stelengum held up his hands as Crandle was about to speak "Enough, enough! I don't want any more excuses. Find out what the problem is and fix it. You're meant to be our street boss, not a fucking burger junkie!" 

Stelengum regretted it as soon as he said it. He didn't even mean it, but in the heat of the moment he had let it slip. There had been trouble running the last rackets out of St. Antoine and that meant the forecasts Joachim were less than he expected. He needed more money to finish the Church and keeping all the politicians on the payroll to get the project finalised was taking its toll too. Planning had been a fucking disaster and without getting St Antoine under control, Stelengum knew the Church couldn't be finished until next fall.

Crandle knew that too and the look of anger, tinged with the shame that you could never really wash out of Crandle, broke Stelengum's heart.

"Look man, I didn't mean that" Stelengum said, trying to repair the damage that had been done.

"No. You did." Crandle said, his voice hard and his face stupid. "You think I don't see that look in your eyes, judging me? I see it. I'm fucking sick of it too. You think I don't want to see this place finished? You think I don't want to see people flocking back to the Faith? Fuck you, of course I do. I don't have the fastest serve in the game because I'm 6'6, I have it because I believe in his teaching and I've worked damn fucking hard on it." The words streamed out of Crandle like hot piss after an all day session and he was visibly deflating in front of Stelengum's eyes. "I'll get you those rackets, I'll get you St Antoine and I'll have the whole of fucking Black Bottom humming. But you need to start treating me better Atoast." Crandle's voice was threatening to break and he was sagging so badly he resembled a scrotum. "I'm not made out of stone." And he turned on his heel and vanished into the street.

Stelengum sighed, strummed his fingers on the altar and wondered if it had been this tough for James Knowles to found the first Church of Robertology.  

Stelengum was lying prostrate before the firm, rounded buttock of Roberto Carlos which formed the altar in the half finished Church of Robertology in Detroit, which Stelengum called home. He had based his operation out of here and so far, since he had the roof completed, things had been going well.

The temperature in the hall seemed to drop significant and Stelengum's nose was assaulted by the vile mixture of sweat and relish that meant Crandlej had returned from the Streets. Stelengum had tasked 5 of his men to bring back his Street Boss, but despite days of searching with the locals, nobody had a line on him. It was incredible. 

"Stelly, I've got news" Crandle announced as he sloped towards his Atoast.

"I hope it is good news, Crandle." Stelengum said from the floor, without opening his eyes. He felt the light behind his eyelids dim and he guessed he was smothered by his Street Boss' enormous shadow.

"Aye, it is." Stelengum heard Crandle's voice change and he guessed the man was smiling "We've got all of St Antoine. Ran the last of those little bastards out of there myself."

Stelengum sat up and showed Crandle his opalescent teeth. "Good work. Good fucking work." He climbed to his feet and slapped his disciple on the back with gusto. Stelengum turned and went behind the altar, he came back with 4 stacks of notes, before he placed them in Crandle's outstretched palms. "Here, take the Burger Challenge over on Hastings on me. You've done good work here, man." They exchanged the Giving and Crandle turned to leave "Oh, and send Fastad in here, I want to speak to that old fuck."

"Of course, Atoast" Crandle said but Stelengum knew he would be distracted. He had been dreaming of taking on the burger challenge for months, it was all he spoke about. He had even been drawing pictures in the mud about it and asking Stelengum to look at how tasty his dirt patties were. Hopefully this would get it out of his system.

Several minutes elapsed before Stelengum heard the familiar tap of Brad_Fastad's cane on the wooden flooring of the Church hall. The fat old bastard clicked, waddled and tapped his way up to Stelengum. He had arrived to the flock yesterday at Stelengum's behest, but the journey had taken its toll on him. He had decided to make the trip on his favourite bicycle, despite being unable to ride it. That meant stabilizers, which given Fastad's size, meant they were nearly as large as the back wheel. He had been out of breath less than 10 minutes after leaving and Stelengum had been forced to send some of his men to pick him up. Fastad had insisted they bring his bicycle with them.

"Well, if it isn't old Stelly himself. How are you young man?" Fastad cooed as he approached.

"I am good old friend, very good. We are growing into our role here in Black Bottom and we've managed to pick up a few more streets since those lads got dropped." Stelengum moved behind the altar and let it take his weight.

"Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it." Fastad was breathing hard from the 10 paces he had made across the room. He was keen to find out why he had been asked to come here, Stelengum could tell. 

"Still remember how to play, Fastad?" Stelengum asking cocking an eyebrow.

"HA!" The old man crowed  "Of course, I can! You think I can't still make a smash from the base line? Want me to show you? You've gotten fat."

Stelengum laughed aloud and held his hands up. "I believe you, I believe you!" The pair shared a moment, but all too soon it was over and Stelengum knew he must talk business "I need your help, Brad." He said.

"Well I fucking guessed that much, you bastard. What do you need?" Fastad answered, his eyes taking on the gleam of a man who had just found another Werther's Original in the bottom of the pack.

"I want you to manage our supply. I'm pissing money out of my eyeballs getting this place finished and I can't look after this project and our product properly at the same time." Stelengum said with a sigh. The project was his life's work, his tribute to his idol. It must be completed.

"Is that all? I was hoping you were going to ask me to find crandlej or something difficult - like get him to eat a salad!" 

Stelengum felt himself smiling again, despite the burden he was under.

"No" he said "Nothing that hard."