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?
We'll carve it on your gravestone
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.
I, Robot
Minion Z has come out of his funk and constructed his first robot duplicate of me! I know I vowed to kill him, but the enterprising little guy is just so handy to have around. I know it's not very villainous, but damn it, I appreciate the guy. Is that so wrong?
Now, let the super-hero mind-warp-ery begin!
Quality is worth the price
Actually, I take it back. The Purple Pirate head and hat display case looks great. Teak, copper, glass, it is beautiful. Well worth the expense. And the taxidermist did a fantastic job with the Pirate's head. He looks like he was a very intimidating opponent; steely glare, teeth clenched, hat cocked down slightly over his eyes. (Have I mentioned how awesome his hat is?) The typographer did a great job on the plaque as well. Very classy. Trajan as the font, I believe.
I just keep staring at it. What a battle trophy! Now it is a "Den of Evil" indeed. Z seems deeply distraught by my new addition. Well, if he's going to hang with me he'sgoing to have to toughen up a little. Don't his people eat dogs or something? Now that's disturbing. All he does now is huddle in the corner, flinch, and cry softly to himself. It's hilarious!
This display case is great! It's the gift that keeps on giving!
Motivation
I'm all moved in now. I've got the wide screen TV for monitoring my schemes/henchmen. (Currently still only in the "plotting" phases.) I've got a good supply of canned food and water for the next time some cosmological deity decides to crash its sun-eating ass into the city power grid. I've got my computer set up locked in and running some battle simulations against various heroes. I've got all of my spare machine parts in the "office." (Soon to be renamed. I haven't decided on which is better; "Den of Evil" or "Crime Lab". That would be where crimes are created, not solved.) And over there is the cot I found on a street corner where Z, the minion, (fitfully) sleeps.
Now to put plots into action. It got me thinking about motivation, why we villains do what we do.
For most of them, the motivation is the basic: cash. It's a trap though. You blast your way through a bank, collect a couple bags of money, and then... what? Where do you go from there? If you're a super-villain you can't just spend it, you're far too flamboyant to just walk into a store and buy your heart's desire. Plus, you're on the villain database and the latest edition of the Noticer's Guide, so you can't easily quietly slip off to retirement. You have to constantly battle authorities or super-heroes to keep your money. So then you end up spending it all on means to battle the heroes... it's a downward spiral, really.
Other villains are in it for revenge. That's all well and good. Certainly I have aspirations of blasting Green Hunter into non-existence, but that can't be your sole goal. Even if you succeed, it is only a fleeting accomplishment. Self-esteem is nice, but is it worth the potential death or injury. (Obviously, Green Hunter is the exception.)
Then, there's conquest. That's more up my alley. Remaking the world in your own image. A noble goal. Making the world a better place, really.
Then there's the poor saps who have devolved into semi-sentient threats. Your lumbering heaps of destruction that provide a nice punching bag for some dumb hero to slug away at. Some guy wanders into the wrong chemical plant and comes out a muck-beast of some sort, completely accidentally, and a "hero" get's his kicks out of punching the holy hell out of him until he blacks out from pain or injury? Who's the bad guy then? Bastards.
Even in a world where a man can shoot lasers out of his eyes...
Even with the glittering technology of my power suit, even with an obedient minion, and even with nano-technology, it still sucks to move.
Packing and labeling all of your crap really makes you realize how much clutter you can accumulate. Especially when you need to bring all of your doomsday machines and machine/animal hybrid experiments. I'm really maxing out on my student loan money on this enterprise. Good thing I'm never going to repay them the cash. (Since I will be High Lord of the Universe, natch.)
Hauling everything back and forth to the trucks makes me consider getting rid of all my test tubes, global domination idea notebooks, and atom vortex spare parts. But I just know that as soon as I get rid of something I'm going to need it to battle the Purple Pirate or something. Sigh.
Next time I'm just going to build a teleportation doorway and save myself the trouble. (Note to self: learn how to build teleportation gateways!)
The scenic valleys of Escartion
It's another Friday, and here at The Pub that means inventory. God, I hate inventory. But, I'm in a suit of armor bristling with deadly weapons, so that means I'm not doing anything. I'm hiding out here in the back while the minion and the employees do everything. That's something you need to learn as a super-villain, delegating (you can't do everything by yourself). But now I'm bored, so I'm going to tie up some loose ends.
1) The Hamster: I have not had any more annoying transmissions lately. So, the hamster is dead and being swallowed by a rabid dog. Or is at least out of range to save my sanity. I don't know who I need to threaten to ensure it, but I really hope the dog scenario is correct.
2) The minion (Z): He has been quite loyal, despite the fact that this armor I'm using may have been his thesis project and I have villainously taken it for my own nefarious ends. How is this possible? Ah, but my weapons are of both the cybernetic body and the mind. I simply told him that the authorities are the ones who destroyed his dorm room (back in the Hamster battle) and he quite eagerly believed me. It seems that the rulers of his homeland do that sort of thing all the time. Also, I promised to make him the Provincial Governor of Escartion and to allow his family to live there in freedom and safety (provided they can escape the iron rule of their native dictator). Every time he seems to lose his nerve, I bring up this promise and vaporize a shot glass to show him that I can give him this title and lots of land in fertile Escartion.
Well, I could, if Escartion actually existed. I made it up. I am a super-villain after all.
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?
Smells like scorched melon
Let me ask you a few simple questions. Who's a clanking, shiny vehicle of doom? Who's got death-lasers and death-laser-blocking forcefields at the ready to smack you down? Who's a walking menace that is going to wipe the Green Hunter off the face of the earth?
Booyah! I am!
Who spent their weekend vaporizing watermelons from 30 yards? Who has a terrifying mask that will make super-heroes shrivel at the sight of it? And most importantly, who is about to become the master of all he surveys?
That's right, me!
Hell yeah!
Who spent their weekend running back and forth to the store to stock up on watermelons? Who then had to draw Green Hunter style masks on all the watermelons and then place them on the target post with the name "Green Hunter" scrawled on them?
Not me! That's what minions are for.
Damn-ster!
That damn hamster is driving me crazy. Every two seconds it's "I'm hungry, want to eat." or "Thirsty. Want water." Look hamster, I know you're just a rodent, but I don't need to hear about every damn thought that crosses your damn little head! I just can't turn it off. I've been trying to express the problem to minion Z, but it's a little hard to explain with pictures and hand signals that "your stupid hamster is spamming my brain with annoying thought messages."
Minion Z can sense that I'm not my usual chipper, globe-conquering self, and he's trying to cheer me up by showing me the progress he's made on the armor suit. It does look very nice – weapons, shields, he's even built me an intimidating face mask. I can't even concentrate on all that now.
I've taken to drinking a lot more than usual to try to dull the impact of the barrage of "Hamster baaaaalllll!" on my poor brain. Damn you hamster! Damn you and your plastic climbing maze!
First power, first step
Minion Z has injected his nano-technology into me. I am now blogging this with the power of my mind! I suppose this would count as my first super-power, but this is only a modest first step. Today, techno-pathy, tomorrow, the universe!
Oh, and Green Hunter? You can't blog with your mind, can you? No. No, you can't. Idiot.
Robots and rodents
Young minion Z (I've decided that's the easiest way to refer to him), really has quite a talent for this robotics thing! I accompanied him back to his dorm room and he was showing me his work. It was quite impressive. Perhaps he's worth keeping around after my power acquisition after all. He already had the framework for a metallic suit set up and had made good progress in developing some miniaturized weaponry. The armor frame was far too short for me, so after a (minor) threat of force minion Z has agreed to re-size it for my height. He has also been working on some nano-cybernetic technology. I didn't follow his explanation (a lot of hand waving and pointing to blueprints), but it appears that he has equipped his pet hamster with a wi-fi connection! I told him that it was very impressive and that I would like to able to link to machinery with my mind as well. I think he understood my meaning.
I made certain to speak very CLEARLY and very LOUDLY.
Plan B begins
Re-assembling the Atom Vortex continues to elude my tech-minion and I. Even when I think it's fully formed, it will do nothing more than hum. Where are my beautiful green sparks? Where are my soothing blobs of super-power-dom?. Damn that Hunter! Damn him in his stupid, stupid face.
And before anyone asks, yes, I saw that Green Hunter stopped an alien invasion over the weekend. But, I mean, it was only the Scorloons. They've been thwarted before by such pitiful heroes as the guy who can throw his own hands and the girl who can form solid objects out of her love for puppies! Okay, I'm not sure about the specifics of those heroes powers, but the point is that they're lame. Just because the Earth's Elite have decided to lower their bar from being the greatest super-hero team in the world to invite Green Hunter to join them doesn't mean anything. The Elite must have some serious issues behind closed doors to even consider adding Green Hunter to their roster after such an unimpressive achievement. I mean, a high-school kid would be impressed that I can buy beer, but everyone else would see that it's no big deal. Yes, I'm equating the difficulty of defeating a Scorloon invasion with going to the store and buying booze; sometimes it's a hassle, but failure isn't really an option.
Ahem. Anyway, Zoo (?) and I are struggling with this challenge, when he makes some sort of sound that slightly resembles the word "robot." I still can't make heads or tails of what he's saying, but this coincidence gets me thinking that perhaps I'm taking the wrong approach with this. Maybe, instead of chancing that I might get deformed or annihilated in a nuclear accident, I should focus on making a robotic suit of armor!
The advantages are myriad: I won't get killed if it doesn't work, it will conceal my identity, it's upgradeable (it's always a plus when you can pull a new weapon out of your bio-mechanical hat), and it leaves open the option of creating robot duplicates! I'm already working it out in my head how some random hero will be struggling for their life against a lifeless automaton while I am safely escaping and moving on to the next phase of my scheme. Brilliant! And the look of frustration when they finally realize that all of their struggle was just against a robot. Delicious!
Zhou seemed excited as well when he finally grasped what I was aiming for. It seems that Zu is an enthusiastic aficionado of robots. Maybe he's Japanese? They love robots right?
Getting back up on that atomic horse.
I once again have gathered the parts for my power-endowing device. This time, I had some trouble getting it to work, so I have been forced to once again dip into the murky pool of gullible University students. But, I have learned from my earlier mistakes, um, experiences. First of all, I have opted for a non-english speaker, I believe his name is "Zhou", "Zoo", "Zu", or something like that. It sounds like the place of captivity that I shall soon place the world in. He is an engineering student, so he has the necessary technical expertise to assist me. My previous idiot intern was, of course, on the other farthest possible side of the spectrum in the regard.
He is Korean. Or maybe Chinese? I don't really know, I can't understand a word that he's saying. Really, I see the human race as one single group, so why differentiate by randomly determined national borders? They will all fall under the shadow of my iron fist eventually, so why worry about it? He is a hard worker, and has obeyed even my harshest commands without question. It's nice to have a competent minion (for once). Hear that, Hunter? Idiot.
Despite our language incompatibility, he seems to grasp the mechanical aspects of what I'm aiming for. That's refreshing. Also, I really, really love being able to casually discuss his eventual execution right in front of his face. He'll just smile and nod.
"After I gain god-like powers you will have the honor of being my first extermination! Aren't you lucky, Zhou?"
*smiles*
*nods*
Refreshing.
That's going to be your super-hero name? Really?
All day I've been looking forward to eliminating Hunter, or as he has taken to calling himself, Green Hunter. I've been forced to tolerate his enthusiasm as he tests his powers, listen to him bounce costume concepts off me, and, worst of all, refer to him as Green Hunter. Or, alternatively, the Green Hunter. His goofy altruism is really quite sickening. Apparently I should have vetted my minon pool a little better to weed out low intelligence jocks with hearts of gold.
He's already worked out how he's going to leave this sleepy college town for the super-hero hot beds like Skyline or Metropolitan. He's so certain that he should be fighting crime. I just can't take it, my first act as as an aspiring super-villain is to create another idiot super-hero? That's just not good form. For some reason he has had all these good intentions bottled up in his beer-addled fraternity body, and because of my actions he thinks he's going to battle evil? I don't think so Gree... uh, idiot intern! No, you are going down! I have 50 pounds of "scavenged" explosives under your bunk that are going to change your path. For good.
Were you atomized today?
What a weekend!
The Atom-Vortex was activated while Hunter, my foolish "intern" dimly stood in the Convection Chamber (I tricked him into entering by leaving the door open and placing an cheesesteak sandwich inside). I observed via the closed circuit monitor. As the Vortex achieved critical levels the chamber began to fill with dancing green sparks. It was beautiful and fascinating. I honestly could not pull my eyes away. Hunter, as well, was mesmerized. He cautiously reached out to feel the flickering blobs. They floated, as if underwater, when he touched them. His hair began to raise away from his scalp from the powerful static currents. I wonder if he actually thought this was usual for an internship. Watching the lights and colors, I felt a deep peace like I have never experienced... and then the sparks began to speed up. They raced around the room, constantly gaining velocity, whipping all around Hunter's figure, coating him in their green glow.
Then the sparks began to tear away his body, atom by atom. I'm assuming that Hunter was screaming in pain. His mouth was open and he was bent over with pain. Thank goodness I didn't take the time to install a microphone in the chamber, what an annoyance it would have been to have to hear his death cries! His body evaporated like sand pouring through a hand, and Hunter vanished. This ended my feelings of tranquility. My first experiment, a failure! I sat for some time in the viewing room pondering my next move when I happened to notice movement on the video screen: the idiot intern was alive! Somehow, despite having the reasoning capability of a cinder-block, Hunter had managed to re-incorporate himself! He survived!
I quickly regathered my composure, shut down the Vortex, and went into the chamber. "Gosh, how did that happen? The safety mechanism should have had this door locked! Hunter, are you all right?" Now, I haven't acted since my grade school production of "The Little Engine That Could", but Hunter seemed entirely convinced of my false sincerity. Of course, Hunter is (as I said before) an idiot. But, he is now a super-powered idiot. I've begun initial testing to see what sort of capabilities he has acquired, and so far it has been impressive. He appears to have enhanced strength, speed, and durability, and although he could not yet replicate it, he was able to project a beam of green energy out of his hand.
This is fantastic! Tomorrow, I will duplicate the process with myself and begin the first step to super-villainy. I understand Professor Excellence's "Double Lightning Strike Theory" that powers cannot be exactly duplicated, but I am very optimistic that by tomorrow I will officially be a super-villain.
So tonight, I will dream of my new powers and the glories they will lead to. That, and setting several powerful explosives in Hunter's sleeping quarters. Mustn't have any loose ends.
Machines and minions
Rome was not built in a day. In this timeline, at least. So, I am ramping up slowly to my status as a super-villain. The first conundrum to overcome is key: acquiring powers. Now, as I mentioned yesterday, I have obtained some components from The University's surplus store. Professor Excellence required 6 cyclotrons (compensating for something "Excellence?") for one of his big trans-dimensional bubble cannons last year (It drove off The Walking Blackhole, if you recall), and in doing so the University was left with several pieces of old atom-warping machinery that no longer worked. Thanks to the state laws that forbid the outright discarding of University/taxpayer property these components were available at very reasonable prices.
According to The Noticer's Guide to Super-Humans, roughly 34% of all super-humans gained their abilities after a mechanical mishap. Experimental explosion, radioactive badger, trans-dimensional doorway malfunction, you know, the usual.
Now I have cobbled together the pieces and intend to endow myself with abilities (as yet unknown) beyond those of mortal men. But, there is also a good chance I will be vaporized. To test the machine I have enlisted the assistance of my first minion! Yes, a college student named Hunter is now assisting me. He believes that this is an internship, and that he will snag an easy 3 credit hours. Oh yes, Hunter, it will be easy... if you survive! "Oh, no, it's perfectly safe. I'll just be standing right here behind 15 feet of reinforced steel." Foolish intern.
