Yarr, I’m the Cap’n!

Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scallawag who stands between them and the mantle of power. You never met a man – or woman – you couldn’t eviscerate. Not that mindless violence is the only avenue open to you – but why take an avenue when you have complete freeway access? You are the definitive Man of Action. You are James Bond in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You are Charlie’s Angels without so much “Charlie” and decidedly light on the “Angel.” Your swash was buckled long ago and you have never been so sure of anything in your life as in your ability to bend everyone – Man, Woman or Individual of Transgender or indecipherable Sexual Identification – to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off their head if they show any sign of taking you on or backing down. You cannot be saddled with tedious underlings, but if one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones’ locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed – a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

Find yer inner pirate