I keep getting e-mails from Autonomous Robot, Terror of the Slums, and a couple of other low-grade super-villains. "Why haven't you updated?" "Where is your next post?" "How do I know how to become a better super-villain?" Great. I'm the leader of a bunch of has-beens and never-will-bes.
Okay, you pathetic losers. Here's what I've been doing; the perfect bank robbery. Now, I know I've mentioned before what I think about crime for financial gain. But this is different. This is about perfecting my technique. I've got my teleportation rig set up within the armor so I can open a portal to a specific place and then walk right through. So the plan is simple; teleport into a bank vault, throw bags of cash through the portal (into my apartment, where the minion organizes it), and then walk out. It's easy, has netted me about $1.2 million in a week, and has jumped me up the Most Wanted charts (#22, suckers!). I even heard that Admiral Admirable, (Yes, the Admiral Admirable) mentioned that he would take steps to stop my "plague of larceny". Oh, Admiral. "Plague of Larceny?" You can coin a phrase.
But if you think that's totally awesome, (Which it is, Autonomous Robot, you pitiful sack of circuits.) listen to this. I'm in the middle of the robbery scheme and the Purple Pirate busts in and tries to take me out. I'm just about done with the robbery, so I ignore him and close my portal to leave. Well, I guess the Pirate moves faster then I thought, because he was nearly on me. Too bad for him that the portal closed and severed his head clean off! Holy crap! I killed the Purple Pirate! That should move me into the Top 20 for sure.
Let me cut you off...
A bounty of riches
Old crab-face (Noticer's ID's him as the Walrus Warlord. I don't know what sort of walruses they have around where he grew up, but they don't look like that.) didn't get over to the Turning Observatory in time before I was able to snag three (count 'em) cosmic scatterers. I know, the teleportation rig only requires one, but now I can flip one for a pretty penny and keep one as a spare. I am becoming certified-awesome, am I right? You'd think that would be enough, but guess what?
No, not a robot invasion.
No.
No! Come on! I would never breed with an Alien! Disgusting!
Green Hunter was there! He was there doing something for the Observatory and tried to thwart my scheme. I blasted away at him until my batteries were near empty. Unfortunately, he was able to deflect my shots with his stupid green sparkles (They should have been mine!). But, in all the confusion I knocked over something and it imperiled a civilian. Being the goofy super-hero he is, of course he ran over to rescue them. Ah ha! But I got away! Suck it, idiot intern!
Take a number
Boy, things are different here in the big city. I'm in the process of getting together some equipment to build a teleportation rig. You know, your basic atom strippers, gravity rails, Heisenberg compensators, basic stuff. Professor Excellence, in his enormous ego, has published his work in the field. And really, if you just follow along, it's not that hard to do. Well, the stuff is not so basic because it's all stored in random high-tech labs around the city. So I grab the armor suit and head over to snag some shiny technology.
It's not like the sleepy University town though. There's already a super-villain there. Bad form. I didn't have my Noticer's Guide to Super-Humans with me so I couldn't ID him. His face kind of looked like a crab having a hemorrhoids attack, if that makes any sense. He was incomprehensibly ranting (Having a hemorrhoidal crab-face apparently gives you a very heavy accent.) and battling some sort of Roman-themed hero. I really need to study my Noticer's if I'm going to hang around here, I didn't recognize him either. They fought for a while, but I decided that they had a kind of a thing going and went back to the Den of Evil.
In the end I came away empty-handed. I'm not used to this hectic super-human city. Maybe next time I need to make an appointment or something. Or wake up early.
Victory! (hollow)
I alluded to it in my last post, but there was some action this weekend. The police, surprisingly, figured out that I vaporized that bar owner guy, Barry (?). I'm just terrible with names. Fortunately when they arrived I was suited up. I was just about to head over and dispense some plasma-hot revenge on that back-stabbing trollop. Instead, I spent my weekend in a 14-hour stand-off/firefight with a couple dozen armed cops. Fun, right? The good news is that I was victorious (finally!) and defeated all opposition. I am now the unquestioned ruler of a small mid-western town. The bad news is that I'm the unquestioned ruler of a small mid-western town. Frankly, it's not glorious at all. And police are my challenge? Am I a common thug? Where is the splendor and spectacle in that?
All the pointlessness of it just washed over me for a while. I prepared a drink (On the house. I'm the owner after all.) and just drank it in the burned out wreckage of a police cruiser for a while. Then I realized what I needed to do: it's time to take it up a notch. It's time to get into the big leagues. That idiot Green Hunter did what I should have done as soon I got this armor working. Damn you, Hunter! I am going to go the big city, Skyline, and shove a proton cannon down his throat. (And then fire that proton cannon. And incinerate his internal organs. Killing him. Dead, dead.) Yeah, that's sounds good. This current time-continuum is too short to waste with this pittance of a town.
Now, it is on!
Case #16442: Larry v. Super-villain
The unchallenged dominance of my rule did not last long. Larry, The Pub's former owner, returned after the weekend and he was slightly annoyed to find that he was no longer in charge. He kept blathering on about where is my paperwork? Who do I think I am? I'm going to get my lawyer on the phone? I mean, really? A lawyer? I'm a freaking super-villain! Like a well constructed court order is going to have any effect on my actions. That's the whole point of being a super-villain!
Super-heroes are The Man. The Authority. All of their actions are about maintaining the status quo. All that sweat, grit, and determination they muster is about keeping things exactly the same way they are. They are anti-change, anti-progress, really. I mean, I think it's probably an improvement to reshape the coastline of Asia into the likeness of my face. (It will look awesome from space! C'mon!) Or to transform the people of England into obedient bio-machines. But, no, Heroes are always working to thwart this kind of real advancement. People may think it's some sort of flaw to be a super-villain, but what it's really about is freedom! Freedom to think how you want to think! Freedom to be who you want to be! Freedom to annihilate who you want to annihilate! Freedom to raise the werewolf ninja armies that you want to raise!
Sorry about that. I got caught up in the feeling of it all. Anyways, Larry is there yapping at me about quid pro quo or something, and I have (unfortunately) been caught out of my battle armor. This is an embarrassing thing to admit, but I was not prepared. Honestly, after the big sales of "Five Dollah Friday" and the success of judging the "Hot Bod" contest on Saturday, I was feeling a little too relaxed. Also, Valentine, the Hot Bod winner seems quite responsive to my flirting when I'm out of the armor.
So I was caught with my quantum pants down, so to speak. I quickly retreated to the back room and sent out my robotic minion to handle things until I got suited up. Okay, "robotic minion" is a bit of a stretch. It was my usual minion, Z, but he was wearing some scrap metal and a hand-crafted pail painted to look like a face. It looks terrible, but honestly, no one really knows what to do when you see that staggering toward you shouting Cantonese (?).
I'll give him credit though, Larry took initiative and began pummeling Z. If I need to work on my fighting skills, then Z really, really needs help. But what are minions for if not to be punching bag distractions? (Answer: nothing) Once I was back in the armor the battle went as follows:
Me: I command you to die!
Larry: Wha-?
Me: *fusion blast*
Larry: *vaporize*
Ha! Case closed. Is that legally binding enough for you Larry?
Yes, we're still doing "Five-Dolla' Fridays"
It seems as though it's been forever, but now, finally, the steps toward global domination have begun. While I have plans to conquer the world, and hopefully, all of reality, I do have some scores to settle. Some personal injuries that must be settled first.
I awoke early in morning and went to the departmental lounge and vaporized all of the copies of Johann's thesis papers. That's right, I have obliterated the culmination of 8 years of diligent study and writing! Now who's the brightest star at the University? The only glow now is emanating from your scorched theses! Ha, ha! I have also sent him an e-mail laced with a worm virus that will wipe out his computer's saved version of his work. (One must be thorough in this regard.) I neglected to inform him that I sent this e-mail with the power of my mind, but I think complete academic annihilation should suffice.
I am choosing to wait on the defeat of my own committee members. I have hopes of completely eliminating them from the timestream, but (unfortunately) I can't muster that power level. Yet! Yet.
But these are matters of the ephemeral mental realm. How about getting into the grimy, real world of doomsday machines and blasting the hell out of muscle-bound super-heroes? Well, no heroes (Yet! Yet.), but I have conquered my first parcel of real estate. The grand dominion has its humble origins in the conquest of The Pub!
Several years ago, some irritating bartender there refused my completely valid ID and refused to serve me my drink of choice. (Running a driver's license through the credit card machine doesn't prove if it's valid you moron!) On my birthday no less! This crime could not go unanswered, so I strapped into my battle-suit and marched in and declared myself the new ruler of the third most popular bar in this University town. Resistance was minimal. That is, it was, after I explained that I wasn't going to change any policies and business could proceed as usual. The student bartender (Derrick) said that Larry, the (previous) owner, was out of town. "He's usually gone for, like, a couple weeks. He'll come back and say he's got some new, great idea, or something. Just as long as I can keep my tips, it's cool with me." Yes Derrick, it is cool indeed. Very cool.
A simple, elegant solution
I'm direct blogging from my mind now. I'm so excited. Why didn't I think of this before? The hamster's a problem? KILL THE HAMSTER! A nice, simple, elegant solution.
So my first act of villainy will be perpetrated on an eight ounce rodent? No problem. My path to glory and infamy will overwhelm this humble beginning. I mean, what are they going to remember, that I first battled a hamster, or that I blanketed the world in a plague of werewolf ninjas? (Werewolf ninjas? I should remember that for later.)
I'm going to the minion's dorm room. I've sent him out to gather materials for the armor, but I've given him hopelessly convoluted instructions that should keep him occupied for
- oooooh! a weeelll! when did that get here? wanna run! -
Aaargh! See what I'm talking about? Constant annoying inter...
- run. run. ooo. me hungry, want food! hey! a foodman!-
Shhh. I'm going to quietly go into the room. I see you hamster. I'm coming to get Yes, little hamster, I've got food for you; how about some hot lead? Do you have enough of that in your diet? Ha, ha!
- hi foodman! give food! food! food! wait what that? that not food. danger! run!-
You can't hide in there little bastard! I'll smash your tunnel to bits! Ha, take that! I'm going to kill you so...
- run! run! danger! -
Damn, I missed. Hold still you little fuzzball!
- mean, mean foodman! hide, hide. danger! -
Shut up! Crap, I'm out of bullets. Boy those things can smash a place up. He's around here somewhere. I'll just stomp on him. Heeere, hamster hamst...
- new tunnel! run! danger! -
Crap, he's running for the vent! Stop, stop!
...
Okay, okay. Let me gather my thoughts here. So, the minion's room is kind of in shambles. I guess I really need to take a shooting course. Yes, and a fighting course. (Damn you, Hunter!) So, the hamster managed to dodge the shots. Maybe, in retrospect I should have just grabbed the hamster and just finished him quickly. I guess I fell into the old villain trap of trying to be too flashy with the gun and all. It was just going to be so cathartic to shoot that hamster and silence him forever. But...
So I missed, smashed open the cage, and he escaped through a vent. It all happened so fast, I couldn't tell if I wounded it or not. Maybe I did. You know how chickens can run around for a while even with their heads cut off? Maybe I've mortally wounded it, but adrenaline and dying muscle memory got it into the vent? I haven't heard any other comments since it ran in there. Yes, I'm sure it's dead. That's a relief. Now I can get back...
- mean foodman! hamster free now. hamster free! -
Nooooooooo!
