Caesar drew out his stolen notebook and pencil, and prepared them for some swift note-taking. "Rex Artus, can you please begin by giving a job description of you work as a Crew Leader? I am sure many of our readers are wondering what to write on their resumes, and cover letters. Proficiency in robberies? Skilled killer? Trained bootlegger?"

The gentleman has still never given his name, so +Superman he shall remain to be called with his silly looking red cape. +Superman was big right now, the comics were flying off the shelves.

"So +Superman, you want a description as my job as a leader? Well. I always try and look out for the little guys, they are just as important as heavy hitters really. I try and speak to all my members and enquire about them, ensure they are doing well and even if they need anything. Not everyone is always around though, so of course there are those that I speak to on more occasions than others.

Speaking about robberies though, I consider myself a master. These Organised Crimes are glorious, just one after the other, me and the gang get together and rob loansharks, trucking depot and even torching a rival business. Most of the time us guys love the..."

+Artus looks around at the table hoping to find a drink. A glass of water, a hot tea. There is none.

"A drink perhaps?"

+Superman places his notepad and pencil down for a moment whilst he fetches some drinks, whilst his back is turned, Artus grabs the pencil and notepad and just for the hell of it, he draws a penis and tries to place it back down again how Superman had left it in the first place.

Artus takes a few sips of his whiskey, he never was much of a drinker, but surely one whiskey wouldn't hurt? It was only one after all unless Superman had drugged his drink, though if that was the case, he would be the one in trouble, not so much Artus.

"The greatest challenge I have faced so far, I believe was the Bjorn Ironside led attack from New York. I am not afraid to admit I was a little worried back then, I was young and just starting this life back then and New York had decided to attack Chicago. They claim it was for defensive purposes if memory serves, it was so long ago now I can't remember all the inner workings. I do remember a man who went pie the name of Stone, this guy was a pie fanatic and he was trying to get a shot off onto me. He failed, I was protected, and I used that protection to my advantage and kept it for as long as I could whilst I knew he was in the same city looking for me. I had been awake most of the night with Chicago to help them be rid of this threat they faced."

He takes a few more sips of his whiskey and realises he doesn't actually like the taste very much.

"But pie though? Really? It's all about the cake. I let this guy know and the rest of those in power that cake was the way to go. Guy was off his nuts if he thought pie could out taste cake. I think I need to out this drink down, it's making me ramble about nothing."

Artus drinks the rest of his whiskey not realising what he had just said only a moment ago.

"I believe my greatest challenge I faced was an attack by New York on Chicago, I had offered my help along with my... Wait, where am I up to?" He goes to drink his whiskey but realises it is gone. "That wasn't very nice of you."

Caesar stood there in alarm, watching the old king ramble on about how a pie from New York had tried to kill him. He also seemed to be gesturing to his Roman cape and calling him Superman. Caesar assumed that the penis the king had drawn on his notebook as well as the way he was calling him "Superman" was intended to compliment him on his own, generous phallic length and girth. However, he had no clue how Rex Artus had figured that out, because he sure as hell did not have a boner right now.

He always thought that New York was famous for its cheesecakes. Maybe that was why the pie wanted to prove that the cake is a lie. He was rather astounded however, when the senile old man started accusing him of draining his whisky. Ironic considering he was now swigging it directly from the bottle, leaving Caesar only with the amount he had poured into his own glass.

He noted down this behaviour in his notepad, assuming that it was a form of expression of dominance which members of the species known as Crew Leaders carried out to show off their grasp over their territory and to attract mates, although Caesar couldn't see any women nearby, unless you counted LuciusSweet who had his lengthy neck buried inside a garbage can, looking for God knows what, but in the process had exposed his arse to the world.

"Most interesting your Majesty. Now could you please tell me some things that you enjoy about your job, and some not so pleasant things?"

Artus wasn't sure what was wrong, he swear he didn't drink his whiskey and it was sat there on the table, Superman didn't seem to look as if hew knew anything or even drank it. Was the drink really affecting Artus that much? He wasn't sure how he was going to continue with the interview if he couldn't even remember drinking his drink. Did he? Did Superman? He had no fucking clue right now.

"Majesty? Is the Queen here? Where is she?" Artus stood up for a moment and looked around, but could only see himself and Superman. HE then came to realise that he was the one being called Majesty. "You really think of me as a Majesty?" Artus grips his gun and squeezes it out of anger, mainly due to how gullible he was.

"The thing I enjoy most about my job, is being able to have a little bit of weight to throw around, it's nice to have that little bit of pull to try and shape the community." Artus goes to get his drink for a second time and still forgot that it was empty, he looks as Superman. "You need to stop doing that now! Where was I? Oh, that's right... Having weight to throw around, I don't really weigh a lot but I have enough on me that it can make me tire out just from getting from a to b, I need more ways to keep fit.

Not so pleasant? Nothing. Everything here is amazing and I have no problems."

Wetness... That was all that Artus was feeling as this great female just stand there, looking so divine. He release his hand from his gun and grabs his own parts that only he has touched in a long time. He crosses his legs but it makes the wetness even worse, now it had started dripping down his leg. Was it natural wetness or was it urine? Artus couldn't really tell with the amount of whiskey he had... Even though Superman drank most of it the cheeky fucker.

Noticing that Camp had arrived, he couldn't bare to look at him. Camp was suppose to take care of him over the Christmas period which was all arranged by Disorder. Camp had failed to keep up his performances as he had a bad sexual experience and was out for days on end, it was a lonely Christmas for Artus.

"These are the last questions, it hurts to be around Camp at the moment, I still haven't mentally recovered.

Recount a time that I made a tough decision you say? Hmmm. I think we all have tough decisions to make on a daily in one way or another, it depends how we look at it..."

Look at it... Artus turns his eyes to the female still in sight. His legs cross even tighter, he needed to hurry up and finish this interview so that he wouldn't be embarrassed over his boo boo.

"My right hand man, Rorschach and BCP are my most trusted people, if I ever need advice I would surely go to them a fetch it. On occasions though Rorschach has read my telegrams and came to me with his own views and opinions on a way of moving forward... I can't go into details, so that is all you are getting.

He could really feel the wetness moving down his legs now, it was irritating and starting to smell funny, he had to leave right now. His throat was a little dry, this time he remembered not to grab his empty glass that Superman drank for him and quickly finishes off.

"My daily schedule is ensuring that people in Paradise and even Las Vegas are doing well and they have no problems, any one can approach me at any time, I have time for them all... Talking about approaching, I need to leave... I have... A... Dog... That... Eats.... Things.... Yeah, I have a dog that eats things. I bid you farewell Superman."

Artus grabs his glass of whiskey and begins to drink the remainder. "FUCK!" They all look at him, but he stands up and walks off in a very fast pace.

Really? He thought to himself, he just wanted to run off and sort his wetness out which he still isn't sure how it got there. He impatiently listens to Superman whilst being irritated on the spot and can't keep still thinking to himself... Shut the fuck up and let me go, please.

"Okay okay, qualities... Erm... A crew leader should at least have some connections to others, kind of hard setting up when you don't know anyone, whilst it is possible to be in a position of power without the connections, it just makes it harder to. So, connections... And..."

At this point, his hands are absolutely soaked, he really thinks that he has pissed himself now, it would be rude to leave the interview now when it is nearly finished and return at another date when he would be even more embarrassed. Hopefully after this, Superman never approaches him again for a second interview.

"An experienced bloodline helps tons, mainly due to knowledge being passed down father to son, or even mother to daughter in some cases. There have been tons of new bloodlines who have set up for the first time and left an imprint in this world. Being able to make the tough decisions when it matters most defines a lot of people, if you are seen making the wrong decisions, people pick up on that and can impact you in negative ways you never even thought of. Being calm and..."

The wetness is getting too much, he was ready to burst.

"Collected, calm and collected. A willingness to learn... Yup, learn."

Artus can't hold it any more, he was off and never returning. "Bye." He runs off leaving a trail of wetness behind him.

NoSpinZone listens with a raised brow. She surrenders to the fact to each their own as she never judges ones style. Yawning she realizes she got to hit up something that captures her undivided attention.