Hail Caesar, we who are about to die salute thee!! These are the words that Caesar hopes he will get to hear one day, as he presides over a new Imperium Romanum that will control the true power within this false, democratic nation know as the United States. But before such things can even be dreamt of, a crucial question must be answered. What in the name of Jupiter's oversized cock does it feel like to be a Crew Leader? To be a Godfather? To have the power of life and death over hundreds of people?

In his quest for knowledge to bring the light of civilization to these barbaric wastes of the underworld, Caesar shamelessly plagiarizes from the British and forms his very own, MBC (Mob Broadcasting Channel, Milky Boobs Confirmed, Masculine Body Care etc. take your pick already). Sticking a piece of cardboard into the band of his hat, spelling the words "Press", Caesar sets off with a notepad and pencil pinched from the local post office (I don't fucking get government aid, don't judge), and a magical device everyone calls a "Camera", which he thinks looks cool, but has no idea how to use, Caesar decides to hitchhike on a an interstate garbage truck, to go around the country and interview various Mob Bosses about their experiences, running their shady businesses.

And so, Monarchs of the underworld, the interview begins............

Today was one of those days Artus wished he never woke up, he was extremely tired from the night before when he had to run a few errands. Raiding the depot was the toughest job though, he got caught and was thrown in the slammer and was so close to almost being raped by the big man inside who they all refer to as Bubba. Luckily enough, he was busted out in no time so didn't have to feel the thrusts into his body, a relief really as rumours have it that Bubba has seriously damaged the insides of those he wishes to have his wicked way with. That is not something Artus was looking forward to.

The day was beautiful today, well almost. It wasn't raining, so that in itself was beautiful, god damn British weather. It was calm outside and Artus had no major plans for the day, at some point he's have to take a 12 hour flight to New York to collect some built up cash, but he had all day for that really.

"A, go get me the new newspaper. Bring it to me on the bench outside." He returns after a few minutes. "Boss, there's no new newspaper, only this old one." Artus takes the newspaper, but it's one he's already read. "You good for nothing..." He mutters nuder his breath. "Thanks."

The latest newspaper was still a good read, though Artus had hoped a new one would be out soon.

As Don Artus sits on the bench, muttering under his breath angrily, a garbage truck pulls up at the nearby store front to collect the daily human refuse. While the municipal workers were busy arguing with the store's owner about how he was not allowed to dump a strangled cat with the stuff going to the landfill, Caesar leaps out of the back of the truck where he had been a stow-away for nearly 12 hours, and dusts off a banana peel and some strange brown stuff off his suit. 

The wannabe emperor then looks around and wonders where the fuck he is, before noticing Artus going through a worn out old newspaper that is worthy of nought but wiping your arse with after you have answered nature's call. He walks towards him, noticing the bulge in his pants that showed where he had concealed his weapon (not THAT weapon you pervert). This then, was one of his potential-interviewees. 

Walking forth with the courage and discipline he would expect from his future legionnaires, he approaches Artus and greets him. "Hail to the almighty Rex Artus. I was wondering if you would relate to me thine experiences being the leader of The Flood, so that I may use this knowledge to civilize the barbarians in the Mafia underworld and bring them under the eagle banner of the S.P.Q.R" 

Sitting there minding his own business reading the old newspaper that still hasn't lost its touch, it still gets boring after re reading it numerous times, he just liked to make sure he knew what was going on. Out of nowhere, this figure approaches him. He hadn't seen him before, and quite honest he looked terrible with this red cape over him. Who did this guy think he was? The new Superman from that comic everyone is so hyped about? He looked hilarious.

The gentleman speaks but doesn't introduce himself, he gave no name. Artus doesn't quite know how to respond being approached so calmly given his stature, normally people are a little bit dubious approaching him, he never knew why, he was harmless really unless you got on his bad side.

"Rex Artus? That's new." He takes a moment to think about that name, it doesn't have a ring to it so he can't agree with it but continues speaking anyway. "So Superman, you'd like an interview eh? A man as busy as I am has business to attend to, if you're writing this for a newspaper, then I believe we should find somewhere quite to speak. I'd rather not be out in the public eye for too long, you never know who is around these days."

With his interview of Rex Artus complete. Caesar hitch-hikes on the next available garbage truck, to go boldly where no man had gone before, and discover new specimens of the Mob species.