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!

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?!


Aaaaargh!

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.

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!

It's a damn shame

I am furious!

The new Most Wanted list came out and I only moved up one spot? #21? I just killed the Purple Pirate. Does that not mean anything to you... you... whoever determines the Most Wanted? The old Pirate is (er, was) surely one of the top super-heroes in the world! The world of localized street crime. Street crime within the 18th and 45th street vicinity of the city. Mostly at night and early evening.

I mean, the sword, the buccaneer hat, the monochromatic outfit? Oh, and the EYE PATCH!? Who else has all that? Yeah, he wasn't a "heavy-hitter." But, you know, that whole "lifting buildings" thing that those show-offs do is really over-rated. The Pirate didn't engage in gratuitous feats of muscle. No. He was in there, getting dirty, getting real work done against my fellow criminal element.

And the Parrot Lads! His sidekicks. I think there are three, no, maybe four acrobatic teens who helped in his battle against villainy. He touched real lives here. Will that be swept under the rug after his demise? Will no one weep for the loss of the Purple Pirate?

It's disappointing that the Pirate has been so quickly dismissed. I kind of feel bad for the poor guy. Boy, now I feel a little awkward about the display case I've commissioned to hold his severed head and kickin' buccaneer hat.

Let me cut you off...

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.

Always trust what you read

The teleportation rig is a go! My power set now reads: Techno-pathy, battle armor, and teleportation. It's a little eclectic, but it's a lot better than where I was at the beginning.

All day I've been teleporting stuff through my end of the wormhole. I'm not totally sure where the other end goes, but they are now the proud recipients of a Most Improved Soccer award, some spare Atom-Vortex parts, a dead rat, 3 phone books I swiped from my neighbor, and about 50 copies of the local apartment renters guide. (I swear they print 5 million of those things and no one ever picks them up.)

I haven't tried going through myself (yet), but I hope it's depositing all this crap right into the Earth's Elite headquarters. Maybe I should print up some "Green Hunter Sucks!" fliers. Then they will no doubt realize that he does, in fact, suck.

And they will kick him off the team.

And banish him to Limbo-verse.

And then disband.

And then give control over the planet to me. Yes, that would be nice.

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.

Name of the game

I was working on some my distinctive "calling cards" when I realized that I haven't mentioned my super-villain alias. Truly, an egregious oversight.

Now, I know there is a strong camp that believes that your name should be structured along the lines of "Title Description." That would be a title like "Professor", "General", "Emperor", something like that and then the description of what you intend to do: "Death", "Doom", "Apocalypse". You get the idea. I don't like the notion though because it relies on a title. Titles are given by the authorities, and as I've mentioned before, being a villain is all about subverting authority. You can't play by their rules.

Or you can go with something that is related to your powers, but I don't like being pigeonholed by my (current) power set. I've got big ambitions. Nothing less than universal domination will do, so I'm not going to be stuck with some lame name just because my first powers were nano-tech related. Please.

I'm trying to elevate the game here. So I've decided to go with something deceptively simple, "Super-villain". It says what I am and I am what it says. It's so obvious that everyone else has overlooked it. I am going to define the word through my actions. It's brilliant.

Plus, they'll have to use my photo in the dictionary.

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!)

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!