Mmmm! Delicious.

The Scorloon worlds are no more. The Walking Blackhole has devoured them. I've got awesome cosmic powers now that I need to try out. They were a bit vague on what these new abilities are. For one thing, my eyes now glow constantly. It looks awesome coming out of my mask eye holes, but is making it very difficult to sleep. I'm sure the other things I can do now are much cooler. Also, did you know that when the Walking Blackhole consumes a world he unhinges his jaw? Yeah. It's one of things you can never un-see.

Moon 5 is for carbon copies

Perhaps you have noticed the lapse in posting recently? (Or not.) Well, I have been wrapped up in tense negotiations with the Walking Blackhole! Okay, not the Walking Blackhole himself. He is as large as a dwarf star, which makes it difficult to talk man to man, er, Celestial Force. But 'ol Blackhole has a guy. A go-fer. A guy who finds him planets to sate his "unquenchable hunger." I know. How do you sate an unquenchable hunger? It doesn't really matter.

The point is that to find these planets the Blackhole has gifted vast cosmic energy to some dude to get the job done. Honestly, he mentioned that he was somethingsomething, Vanguard of the Walking Blackhole, but I didn't catch it. It's been a bit awkward having 2 weeks of negotiations with him when I can't remember his name. "Hey...there, you." "Yes, I agree... with you..." I don't think he's noticed though. His glowing visage doesn't seem too emotive, so it's hard to tell.

Anyway, the Scorloons control 3 planets in the system and 17 moons. Most of those are used for inventory storage and bookkeeping. When everything you do requires 15 forms, it takes up space (pun! ha!) fast. So in exchange for providing these delicious planetary snacks (and a couple of billion Scorloon lives) to the Walking Blackhole, he will endow me with a portion of his immeasurable power. So the deal: he doesn't eat me, and I get some sweet power upgrades.


That's what I call win-win.

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!

Assessment

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!

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.

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?