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Arell smirked when his case was brought up. "His is a li'l mo' lineah, but I reckon I can tell de story." he said. He fumbled in his "shirt pocket" before he realized two grievous errors: his shirt had no front pocket, and the Arkham thugs swiped his smokes while he was out cold.

Realizing his error, he leaned on the door.

"Well, I'm in heah 'cause I'm a cold, drunk, killah who's half gatah. Ya hoid of de I.O. battle a few months ago? Well, I was gettin' miiiighty fed up wit' dem bats." he drawled. His Cajun accent giving a bit to the story. "I was orig'nally captured by 'em wit' Dun' and Red Cardinal, but I 'scaped usin' jes' sheer brute force." he said, recalling how he had to almost revert to his more reptillian form to break the shackles loose . . . smirking. It was clear that he knew he was a drunk killer, he was unrepentant about this case. The case that put him in here.

"De guy who 'riginally terrorized us tried to recapture us on de way out. Dey didn't pay mind t' me befo', but aftah givin' snake-boy two rounds a' buckshot to the face, it was mighty cleah t' dem dat I was makin' myself an innerduction." he drawled.

"I wen' back a day 'r so latah wit' some help. Used m' stepdad's Military influence t' borrow a mini gun from th' Corps. I worked as a contractah wit' 'em for a while, so my credit was still good. Wen' t' IO an' raised me some HELL." he growled, his lower voice made his last few words sound eerily like Johnny Cash and Tom Waits' b*****d stepchild. He told about how he went in there, and how any Black Talon was in DEEP trouble. The gun had to require him to revert to Gator form to carry it.

"A few yeahs ago, a voodoo priestess took de sight outta my left eye." he said, pointing to where it was. An eyepatch had taken its place. "Dey took it out when I was knocked out once, bu' Dun', C.J. an' I designed, built an' installed a computah in its place. Helped me downloa' some info on bad guys . . . make sure whetha or not I could get 'em." he said. "Coulda also controlled a mini-gun while I couldn't. Di'n't stop dat 'til de kids was out . . . an' de joint was a smold'rin' crater in th' Nevada desert." he said with a snarl.

"De evidence for what I.O. was doin' was given out and released into the press, but I had already gone through an' wrecked de joint. Howevah, de owners of the facilities put a price on m' head. I kept on de down-low wit' Dun' and C.J. at de circus, gettin' my old job back as a brakeman." he said, waiting for his story to sink in.

Arell nodded solemnly. "Got th' pink slips. Our jobs just weren't needed no mo'. Outsourced our jobs t' de repair facility in Altoona, Pennsylvan'a." he said, his smirk faded. "Ceej an' I just roamed off. He tol' me he was on his mission t' go make de worl' safer for de kids. Was gonna go m'self, bu' some bounty hunnah tried t' cash in dat reward fer my head." he said.

"He got 'way de firs' time. But he foun' me again wit' a couple of Razolli's men in Nashville 'bout a week befo' Ceej got 'ressted. I shot de four of 'em in self defense, paid m' tab an' ran for it. Hopin' I could make it outta harm's way. 'Course, dat didn't well." he mentioned.

"I was thumbin' through Jersey when I heard it. C.J. sawed Savage clear in two! While I was still wanted, I was picked up on de way heah by Dun'. Were kept, tried an' put heah." he said.

"D' evidence a' de I.O.'s acts had been bought in a deal wit' Razolli, Fisk an' Dr. Summers in an effort t' git him an' I off de streets. Dey also trumped up de charges, an' we had t' plea insanity if'n we didn't wanna get de Chair." he mentioned.

Arell leaned against the wall of the cell. "Heh. Wouldn't be s'rprised if dat's deir game. Keep us corralled in heah 'til de wanna bump us off." he growled. It was clear he was already planning something himself in the process. A lesson he learned from Hex . . . that he remembered after being trapped!

Arell smirked casually. "I've stared death in de face 'nuff times t' not let it bother me. I jus' hope dey ready fer ME. Even without a gun, I'm still dangerous, but 'least I got de common courtesy nevah t' hurt a mother or a chil'." he said. It was his personal mantra. No contracts on women or children.

"Sometimes, it ain't de gun dat's de problem. It's de claw." he said, a slight fang appearing his smile . . . if Anne caught a glimpse of that, that was often the clue that something may go down.

"We will be doing that," Dr. Villa said, nodding, "But at the moment, I do not believe 'denial' is the right word for it."

He looked up in thought, and then said, "You remember Vice rather easily. We have a man in custody here, responding to that very name. Would you mind coming with us to his cell, just to confirm whether or not it's the same person?"

"Yes, his powers do make an extended visit rather difficult," Dr. Villa conceded, shaking his head slightly before adding, "Still, you two should be able to recognize each other's voices, yes?"

Hector smiled, then said, "Then we will do that before you return to your cell." He then turned to Donna and said, "Dr. Gray, would you hand me the clown's file?"