TWW's investigative journalism coven quickly identified the secret identity of the Auxiliary Czar and secured from her this exclusive interview. From the Uncle's true identity to the source of our winners' prizes, the Auxiliary Czar shared some of her thoughts and secrets. TWW quickly came to realize that, all in all, the contest was in good hands. The humor would continue, and maybe, just maybe, one of our subtle existential angst ridden entries would finally see ink.

TWW also learned that, while taking time off from judging, The Czar will not be totally absent. He has threatened to enter the contest himself and he assured TWW that he will continue his Sunday magazine feature. In terms of running the contest he promised "I shall return." The Czar also revealed the reason for his absence: "I am writing a screenplay. A movie that may or may not wind up being made by Ron Howard."

The Czar also addressed the qualifications and inclinations of the Auxiliary Czar. "The new judges have been schooled by me. The Auxiliary Czar is very funny and has voluminous knowledge about everything. EVERYTHING. There is no nuance that will escape her, no reference too obscure, from baseball to opera."

Even though "baseball to opera" covers only about half the alphabet, TWW is sure Losers will come away from this period no more dissatisfied than usual.

AC: Well, it's not as if I fill out "Auxiliary Czar" under "Occupation" on my tax returns.

In the 333 plus LVI weeks that this feature has taken up space on F2, I (along with various other victims) have been an informal sounding board for The Czar, offering opinions on the finalists he chooses each week from among the hundreds (and often thousands) of entries that he combs through by himself. I've also provided some of the examples for new contests, and maybe an actual contest idea or two.

TWW: So, were you the Acting Czar way back in Year Three when the Czar first abandoned us for a few contests?

AC: Yeah, that was me too. I took over the Invitational for four weeks in the summer of '95, back in the days of Arabic numerals (Weeks 126-129), while The Czar decided to invade Mexico briefly with the imperial family. My favorite week, I remember, was the contest for spoonerisms, with the winner being "Beatlemania/Meet Albania." (God, that was funny. Whatever happened to Steven Papier, Wheaton, anyway?)

TWW: We believe Papier had to flee the country after Krattenmaker and Litz mysteriously vanished, but since he got one of those pardons he may be back soon. Anyway, we take it we won't be seeing the usual, um, earthy humor for the next couple of months, is that about the size of it?

AC: Welllll, you can judge that for yourself starting Sunday, Feb. 25 (Report From Week LIII), which is the first Czar-free Invitational of the Roman era. I think you'll find that The Czar and I have pretty similar (warped) senses of humor. Though it's true that the mere sight of the words "underpants" and "colostomy bag" doesn't send me into paroxysms of giggles, I can boast pretty good potty-humor credentials. In general, I probably do lean a bit more toward mind jokes--wordplay and such--than fart jokes, but if it's clever, I'm gonna like it. (Well, okay, I'll admit that I don't much care for dead-puppy jokes or torturing-children jokes, or jokes based on ethnic stereotypes).

TWW: The Czar claims to be entering the contest under a fake name. How likely do you think it is that you won't know it's him?

AC: I think it's really, really likely: Say what else you will about him, The Czar is indisputably one wily rascal. This is someone who lived among a Puerto Rican street gang in the Bronx for a whole year, despite looking like the offspring of the union of Groucho and Harpo Marx. In any case, if he's sent in any entries for Week LIII, LIV or LV, I don't know about them. He's promised me that oh of course he won't be upset at all with me if he doesn't win. Watch the obits for "Auxiliary Czar, 42; Was 2nd-String Poop Joke Editor."

TWW: Do You think The Czar will have an edge in the competition because he knows what you like?

AC: Intriguing question. I don't think so, actually, because The Czar has an unusual philosophy about humor: He believes that something is intrinsically either funny or not funny, and that the person who happens to know which is which is, by happy coincidence, The Czar of The Style Invitational. He doesn't subscribe to the notion that people can simply have different, equally valid tastes in humor. And I can't believe he'd submit something he didn't think was very funny just to appeal to dopey old me.

[Note: TWW asked The Czar about the chances we'd uncover his new identity and received the following, Czarish, reply: "You will not be able to scope out who I am. Give up trying." TWW next asked the Auxiliary Czar about the theory that The Czar is one "Max Wasserman, Bethesda." Her reply: "That uncle's pick was Max Wasserman's (or perhaps "Max Wasserman's"), but the explanation was The Uncle's own."

TWW also asked Rasputin (Flunky to the Czar) about the possibility that Max Wasserman was, in reality, The Czar. Rasputin's reply: " I prefer the rumor that Holly Hacker is really Bob Staake."]

TWW: Speaking of The Uncle, who is he?

AC: Awwww, he's just this really sweet man in the newsroom. I don't want to say anything mean about him because he always gets me coffee and a cookie in the cafeteria when I start work each day.

TWW: We understand your desire to remain anonymous, but tell us what you can about yourself. What else do you do at the paper? How long have you worked at the Post? That sort of thing.

AC: Being anonymous comes easily to me, since for the past 18 years I've had just about the most anonymous job there is: newspaper copy editor. What that means in Style is that I (along with the rest of the Style copy desk) read all the Style and Arts section stories to fix mistakes in grammar, spelling, usage and accuracy. It's one of the few jobs for which being good at "Jeopardy!" is a prerequisite. (Yes, yes, I know that there are mistakes in the section every single day. Those were the fault of other people.)

In addition to this anal aspect of the job, Style copy editors also need to have a creative, kooky side, both to be sure that we don't enforce the rules so blindly that, say, Tony Kornheiser's column reads the same as the Anne Arundel zoning hearings wrap-up, and to be able to come up with those pun headlines that are occasionally the target of incensed letter-writing campaigns (not from you all, I would assume). Amazingly, we got no complaints over a couple of headlines I wrote for a Sunday Style Labor Day package one year about lousy jobs: For the guy who has to watch people pee so they don't cheat on their drug tests, I did "Looking Out for Number One"; and for the guy who vacuums out porta-potties, "Waste Is a Terrible Thing to Mind."

Since Style is a "live" section, putting out late editions into the wee hours, I work nights, from about 5:30 p.m. to whenever: 2 a.m. or later. THEN I start looking at the Invitational entries. Which is why, this time around, we have The Uberczar, too. He works days.

TWW: The Czar claimed that you and the "Uberczar" would do the contest together, how's that going to work? What if you disagree?

AC: He's Uber me. He gets to overrule me. He has overruled me. I don't mind that part, but I don't like how he makes me salute every time I walk into his office.

[Yes,] this time around, as advertised, the Invitational duties are being split up between The Uberczar--who will be writing the top, supplying the new contests, working with the estimable Bob Staake, etc.--and The Auxiliary Czar, who combs through all the entries and comes up with the list of winners. Right this moment (11:30 p.m. Thursday night) we're going to press with the results of Week LIII, from which I just had to trim two entries because they didn't fit on the page. Write short, Losers! The wordy ones tend to be the first ones cut for space.

TWW: Other than the ones contestants send in, where does the Czar get those prizes?

AC: By now, they're just drawn to him, just as a No-Pest Strip draws flies. You should see this man's desk. The Two-Foot Band-Aid, by the way, is especially lovely. I hope the winner puts it above her mantelpiece.

TWW: What's the hardest part of running the contest?

AC: Personally, I think it's coming up with a contest that will result in a lot of very good, original and varied entries. We get a fair number of suggestions, but usually they're not likely to produce much of a funny response beyond the narrow example or two that the writer suggested. But as I said, I dumped that job on The Uberczar. As for my end of it, it can be pretty time-consuming to look through thousands of entries, and winnow them down to the top 100 or so, and then to the 30 or 35 that will fit on the page. When I last did this stint, in 1995, I would obsess for days over whether I had overlooked some worthy entry, or misunderstood it, or otherwise sold some deserving contestant short. This time my philosophy is: This is not jury duty. If you screw up, you will not be sending an innocent person to prison. You will be denying someone a mug with a moose doody on the bottom. Now go back to sleep.

TWW: Most of us are accustomed to the regular Czar. What is the appropriate bribe for an Acting Czar?

AC: You could pay me off by sending the where's-my-prize complaints and contest suggestions on separate e-mails from the entries themselves. Otherwise it's a real pain to get them to The Uberczar and The Flunky. Also, you could perhaps send some diamonds as security to my children. And eventually, I would appreciate an escape plan.

TWW: And Last?