Clearly, this is a mandate

The results are in.

I am now the Scorloon Emperor for Life! No more red tape (for me). No more annoying minutia. Just a planet where my every whim is law. This will be great. The only downside is that I'm ruling Scoloons. They're... nice, I guess. It'd just be nice to actually be able to select an Empress that doesn't have exposed pulsating egg sacs, you know?

Also, I don't think they got the hang of what an election is. Maybe they don't have a proud democratic tradition, but this was a little shocking. There are something like 2 billion Sorloons on the planet, and I won by receiving one vote. From myself, of course.

Well, I hope they keep that level of civil involvement for rebellion when I lead their culture to disastrous ruin.

Vote or die!

The Super-Villain for Scorloon Emperor for Life campaign is going very strong. Okay, technically, this election is a sham that I cannot possibly lose, but it's rewarding to be out there meeting the people. Well, not really people. I'm on the road, shaking, er, "sucker-clasps" and kissing babies, um, "larva." Not really kissing in the conventional sense. Smiling at, maybe? But you can't really tell with my face mask on. So I suppose I glower for a few seconds at the grubs before they scurry off in fear and confusion. Ah, politics!

So vote Super-Villain for Emperor for Life! Or don't. It doesn't even matter. (Those are the best kinds of elections.)

A minor loophole

Of course! The whole Scorloon society is a tangled bureaucratic ball of Christmas lights. There are levels upon levels of redundant, useless committees. You have to fill out practically 15 pages of forms to go to the bathroom. They are a bloated, obsolete, decaying, intergalactic empire. But...

The whole thing is maintained with computers! And who has techno-pathy? Me!

So, I simply walked past the Scorloon Central Hive-Mind computer, used my awesome techno-pathic abilities, and *voila!* I am now a candidate (okay, the only candidate) for Scorloon Emperor for Life. It's a little disappointing that I didn't need a revolution by force, but I can't get caught up in style points. It's results that count.

Besides, there's time. Nothing says Emperor for Life like senseless public executions. Huzzah!

Maybe it's not so alien after all

I am now officially a member of the Implementation Team Oversight Committee to Plan the Conquest of Earth. Easily condensed into the easy to say acronym: ITOCPCE. That's Eee-toe-Kkkjjkchhpuuckke. Sadly, that rolls off the tongue easier than the beautiful Scorloon language.

Now, just to be clear, this is not the team that is going conquer the Earth. This is not the team that is planning how to conquer Earth. This is not the the team that is overseeing the team that is planning the conquest of Earth. This is the team that is deciding how we are going to select the committee that is going to oversee the team that is going to plan how another team is going to conquer Earth. (We have 12, very strong candidates. It's going to be tough to whittle those down to 4.)

So, yes, the entire civilization in stuck in 317 levels of bureaucratic nonsense. I just can't imagine why they've had such trouble conquering a planet full of super-powered loose cannons. Hmmm...

Yes, I've only been on their Homeworld ("Scorloonivinoxuloumushing", really?) for a couple days and I'm already completely fed up with the forms, and committees, and meetings, and minutes, and minutia. Who would have thought that an alien species where every person looks completely identical would have such a hard time making a decision? And then there's the ITOCPCE Benchmark Initiative which is the committee monitoring us as we pick the committee to oversee... ah, screw it.

Maybe it's time to introduce a little Proton Diplomacy in this game. Blast the sides off "the box," so to speak. Time to swing the "big stick." Make the "buck stop" and all that.

Just as soon as my Proposal for Radical Governmental Change gets recognized by the Sitting Committee for Imperial Governmental Procedure, Changes, and Possible Redundancy Eliminations (and Oral Hygiene).

I'll take door #3, if you don't mind

Here I am riding on a Scorloon battle cruiser. Things are going well. I'm looking out the view window, watching the Earth disappear into the distance as we enter the amber-violet spectrum of trans-spatial warp. It's all good. I am preparing myself for the awaiting throngs of Scorloons, eager for me to lead them to greatness. I am ready. But first, I want some food. No problem, right? I tell the on-board compu-drive to give me the finest dish in the Scorloon menu.

Well, first it wants to know my height and weight (in "Thrggsh" or whatever the unit of measure on Scorloon is), then it wants to get a skin sample, then I have to fill out a color based personality examination ("How does green taste?"), then I need to attach a copy of my Scorloon military record... Hey! Stupid computer, just bring me a goddamned burger or something!

Finally (finally!), I seem to have made it through whatever hoops it has left and it opens the tele-hatch and gives me the meal. It is not a burger. It is not a noodle-based dish. It is not even a vegetable. It appears to be what would happen if a centipede had a baby with a frog (with a skin condition). It's repulsive.

And it's still alive!


So where am I in my Year of Super-Villainy? Hmmm.

Let's see. I accidentally created "Skyline's Newest Super-Hero Sensation," the idiotic Green Hunter. I've battled a hamster (And cannot declare a clear victory. Damn you Hamster, damn you!). I've been betrayed by the one minion I thought I could trust. And I've been surpassed in villainous reputation by my robotic doppelganger. Yeah, this year's been just great!

I've been thinking that maybe what I need is a change of scenery. A fresh start. When I had a crisis of confidence before, I realized that I wasn't thinking big enough. I needed a big city instead of a little town. Well, you know, maybe just a city isn't big enough for my aspirations. I need to go intergalactic.

That's right, I have made some contacts with the Scorloons. I perhaps was too harsh in my earlier assessment of them. They're actually quite potent. And their language is beautifully melodic. I don't know who said it sounded like "a bear raping a refrigerator," but they (clearly) didn't know what they were talking about. They have read about my exploits and #17 Most Wanted ranking (Shhh. Don't ruin this for me.) and want me to help them in the (eternal) quest to conquer Earth.

I have graciously accepted their offer to travel to their Empire and help them develop fool-proof plans for victory. When I return, this victory will not be hollow. It will be filled with the gooey sweetness of revenge!

I can barely even post this

From the weekly Most Wanted List:

#17: SUPER-VILLAIN, This former minor league villain has taken a huge step toward becoming a major threat, to not only the city, but the world as well. In a matter of days, the metallic menace derailed a major scientific experiment of Professor Excellence (causing tremendous damage to the StupeDOU's skyscraper home), defeated Green Hunter and the Scarlett Underground in combat, and has been seen with the likes of such heavyweights as A-BOMB-A-NATION and Sir Tan-Death.

Known abilities: Teleportation, Plasma blasts, Force Field, Flight

Is there no limit to my indignities? I didn't do any of that stuff. That's my freaking robot!

And it can fly?!


We'll carve it on your gravestone

Apparently, the former minion's beef with me is that I never gave him his family sanctuary in Escartion. Well, yeah, okay. Not yet. But, of course, Escartion doesn't exist. It seems that that fact really got into his craw. He kept saying "Escartion, Escartion" while that damned robot duplicate held me at blaster-point. Again, okay, yes, Escartion doesn't exist. Not yet. But I totally could make a place called Escartion. After the global domination. Minions just don't have any patience.

I mean, am I frustrated not to be unquestioned emperor of the world? Sure. But I have vision. And vision takes patience. You can't just be a whiny baby and secretly program your master's robot duplicate to obey only your orders. That's not cool. That might be okay in the Philippines or Cambodia or Korea or wherever you're from, but here, in the big boy world that's not how it works.

Now, Zippidy Minion, I'm afraid I will have to destroy you and your family. I will call your grave "Escartion."

Cause that's poetic justice. Get it?

Turkey, turkey, turkey

Hey! The holidays! Aren't they great? Who had turkey? Delicious or dry? Dry, huh? Yeah, it's easy to overcook those turkeys. I've heard that there is some sort of Scorloon tentacled, jelly-cow, thing that tastes just like turkey. Isn't that weird? Yeah. Were you thankful for something? Thankful for companionship? Thankful for loyalty? Thankful for dimensional travel?

Ooh! How's your holiday shopping going? It's just crazy out there, huh? The lines, the sales, the credit card debt, it's just nuts. Yeah. I''m just thinking holidays right now. I'm not even really worrying about the whole "super-villain" thing. I'm just being mellow. You know, just trying to get through it all. Boy, so many people to shop for! How can I even think about assembling an arsenal of weaponry to systematically defeat the Earth's Elite when I've got cards to write and gifts to buy? It's not weird or anything. I'm just filled with the festive spirit.

I'm just that kind of guy. You probably didn't pick up on that in my earlier posts, but I'm not going to judge. I'm onion-y. I've got layers. Nuance. I just look forward to a stocking of thoughtfully purchased gifts that can fit into a 3 inch wide sock. That's okay. Right? Yeah, that's okay.

Oh, but you know what's not okay? You know what's not festive? You know what's not thankful-ish?

Having your own goddamn minion turn on you with your own robot duplicate and drive you into hiding! Now, Z, you must die.