Progressing Nicely

The enslavement of Gothica is progressing nicely. There was a pathetic peasant's celebration in the town today, which I almost succeeded in obliterating.

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It started with me, Pepper and Salt slipping quietly from my evil lair towards the village, each of us carrying a large quantity of explosives. Each of us meaning, Salt and Pepper were carrying them. I was busy too; I was using my far superior intellect to supervise and make sure they didn't mess up.

"Hurry up, would you?" I hissed back at Salt, who had been lagging behind at the time. He gave me a slight shrug and picked up the pace a little. Pepper rolled her eyes; I made a mental note to discipline her any time I felt like getting some sort of painful facial injury.

Ha ha. I am, of course, joking. It's not like she'd dare.

I left Mathew to hold down the fort. I think he was playing Solitaire on the computer when I left. He's addicted. It's the safest way to leave him.

We planted the miscellaneous bombs around the festival at strategic locations. There was dancing. I laugh with scorn.

While I was busy laughing with scorn, Pepper handed me the detonator. That wasn't surprising. I had instructed her to do just that. However, in hindsight, that was very probably a mistake.

 I slipped it into my Evil Black Coat of Darkness' pocket (which was a mistake to wear, because it was a hot, humid evening on a tropical island, but then, appearances are important), and just as I was finished laughing with scorn, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into the circle of dancers.

I gagged to myself. Couldn't believe it. Dancing? Who in their own, twisted mind would dream of yanking me, ME into a circle of happy idiots clapping their hands in time to music?

I yelled, but I don't think anyone heard over the sound of the music and cheering.

Being shoved randomly about, I was passed off to the person behind me - what? Switching partners? What new imbecility was this? - and swung around.

As I was swinging, I caught a glimpse of the man's face. I didn't know his name, but I knew his face; he was one of the members of Captain Hero's "secret" rebellion. He was grinning. The fool.

I started to reach towards my pocket, towards the detonator, but he grabbed my wrist and twirled and shoved me backwards to the next man. I didn't recognize this one, but I still wasn't very pleased about it.

And then, as I was trying to fight to get away, across the circle of dancers I saw Captain Hero, dancing with some beautiful blonde with flowing skirts. I knew the girl. Her name was Chelsea. She was a doctor, of sorts. She helped in the rebellion. This wasn't right.

I struggled again to get free, and I was passed off to the dancer behind me. I screamed in anger at the way these idiotic natives were treating me. What did they think they were doing?!? Enough! They were, all of them, beneath me! I am an OVERLORD, you dull creatures, and will not be danced with by-!

Well, that's not precisely what I was thinking. It's a modified quote from the Avengers. But it's what I should have said.

I was passed to the next dancer. If I were a lesser creature, such as a normal human being, I might have almost found this enjoyable. Fortunately, I am not.

That was when I finally managed to get a hand into my pocket.

The detonator was, naturally, not there.

The man I was dancing with threw me to the side, into the middle of the circle, and all the dancers ran for cover, small children giggling with delight as parents pulled them aside.

The explosions went off.

I didn't get blown up, obviously. Just a little sore, from most of a palm tree landing on me. I also have another dislocated arm. Oh yes, and I'm writing this from a cell, using only one hand. That's a problem, too.

Not much of a problem, though. After Captain Hero cuffed me, I managed to grab a small bit of wire from one of the bombs. I'm picking the lock in between paragraphs. Yes, the cell has a computer. No, I don't know why.

So, I guess, soon I'll be trying again.

Finally Free

Well, the cold is finally gone, and it's about time, because with my cold went Captain Hero. Thank goodness, because he would not stop beating me at chess, which meant I had to cheat, and from my past track record you can imagine how that went over for me...

Since that time, there have been a few battles, and it's time to finally admit that I need some support. Which is why I am recreating the Nevermores.

They were my first attempt to start an army. On a different site, of course. It didn't go over so well, because I was a total novice then. But now, I'm trying it again. Please, join! Promotions are sure (eventually)! I'll try and get the actual blog sign-ups today.

This was a pathetically short post.

House Guests

I really loath house guests.

Specifically one house guest.

Specifically that one house guest who's punched me in the face so many times.

Anyhoo.

It was the morning after I got lost in the jungle, but it didn't look like morning. The rain was still pouring, though the wind had died down a little. The clouds made the whole thing so dark that it almost looked like night.

Of course, naturally, I had a cold. A cold. I am an overlord. I shouldn't get colds.

But I had one, and Salt said that there was actually no bloody cold medicine on the whole bloody island. Thanks to the storm, no contact was being made with the mainland or anything - of course, I don't make contact anyway, normally, because they actually don't know of my tyranny here.

So I sat and suffered in silence broken by the occasional groan or exaggerated fit of coughing.

Everyone was gathered in the only comfortable room in the fortress, which had a fireplace, a few bookcases, and some assorted chairs and such. Mathew was humming some annoying ditty while throwing bits of wood on the fire (the power was out, naturally). Salt lounged against the wall reading, while Pepper and Hero chattered over hot chocolate.

That was another thing that annoyed me; Pepper and Hero got along wonderfully. They bickered about some things, chatted over others, and the whole thing was irritating. I mean, they wouldn't shut up.

And I was lying, shivering, wrapped in blankets in the giant black armchair. I couldn't even kick Hero out of the fortress, and none of the others would. I mean, what kind of minions were they? They wouldn't even destroy the hero who we were fighting against. Totally ridiculous. If only I could reach my explosionator gun...

Continuation of Chaos

First off, I just figured I'd announce to the world that I hate this new blogger thing. I think the old way worked just find myself...

But I'm sure you're all anxiously  awaiting the thrilling conclusion to my wet and muddy adventure.

The rain continued to fall for hours as myself and Captain Hero staggered, lost, through the jungles of Gothica, which is annoyingly filled with vegetation.

I don't really know why C. Hero was out there, really. He didn't seem to be having a good time of it, anyway. I think it had something to do with the rain, or the winds, or the fact that he was rapidly running out of hair gel.

I suppose I wasn't exactly in top-notch frame of mind either, when it comes to it. In fact, quite the opposite; I was miserable. But there was little else to do besides tag along after C. Hero, so that's what I did. Of course, I made sure to always keep my hand on my stun gun (it was broken, but don't tell him that).

It was several hours later, when the first sign of human life other than myself (Captain Hero is classed with other bipeds such as orangutangs) in the form of Pepper. Clad in a bright orange raincoat (memo to self: Buy the mercenaries more appropriate rain-gear; orange is not a suitable evil color), she was holding a battery-powered lantern.

"I've been searching for you for fifteen minutes!" she yelled faintly over the rain, completely ignoring Hero.

"Sorry to keep you bloody waiting!" I replied, in my usual, soft, sweet tones.

"I was just on the web," I heard her say over the winds, "and it looks like in a few minutes, it's going to get really bad out here."

"Heaven forbid it should get bad!" I screamed. "Drat it, Pepper, where's the fortress?"

"It's just beyond that clump of vaguely foreboding trees," she said, pointing with her free hand, and we stumbled off towards the obsidian shaded building. Hero trailed behind, and it wasn't long before we arrived at the fortress. Pepper banged on the giant main entrance, and the doors swung open, pulled by Salt.

"I've been looking for you for hours," I gasped as I trudged in.

"I was reading," he said quietly.

"Where, Nebraska?"

"Shut up," said Pepper bluntly. "Salt, go make some hot chocolate. Captain, will you please shut the doors? It's getting water on the floor, and I really hate mopping."

That was really only the start of that horrible, horrible week.

Tyranny suits me, I admit. It's such a nice feeling to do what you please, to tell others to do what you please, and to tax them till their eyeballs fall out if they don't obey you.

Of course, it's not all luxury out here in Gothica. Every time it rains, my evil fortress drips everywhere, and all the pots and pans get in my way when I'm trying to arrive at my torture chamber. And just last week Captain Hammer interrupted my evil schemes by destroying the left wing of the fortress. Unfortunately, I happened to be in that particular wing at the time, and now I have a sprained wrist and this very villainly scar across my lower jaw.

But other than that, it's been working out pretty well. I got some more henchmen in, so now I can afford to relax a little from the rebels and worry about assassination from within instead.

Of course, there was a  mild adventure the other day, which was horrifyingly embarrassing, as well as painful.

Gothica is located in an area which receives severe storm damage, and every inhabitant knows it's not a good idea to venture out when there's a storm warning.

Unfortunately, I'm not every inhabitant, and so when Pepper asked me to go out and look for Salt in the rain, I foolishly said yes. I mean, I can't have my prime lackey just going missing, not to mention he has my car keys.

Outside the fortress, it was practically a hurricane. Howling winds, pouring rain, generally not the place I really wanted to be. Pepper should be able to get her own dratted brother. Memo to self: Kill Pepper at earlier possible chance.

So anyway, I was just getting started searching, when I heard some random shout in the distance. Supposing it to be Salt, I followed the noise.

It was an hour or two later when I began to feel a slight bit lost.

Anyway, as I was thrashing through the jungle, I came upon hell itself.

Or, in other words, my arch enemy.

Captain Hero, Corporate tool.

Of course, I wasn't exactly in a position to display my incredible prowess in battle, so I cleverly pretended to be temporarily incapacitated. This was easy to pretend, because I was tired, hungry, wet and miserable.

Of course, Captain Hero was wet too, but he was looking perfectly comfortable while he was soaked.

So anyway, after a few brief threats, we got down to business.

"Why are you out here?" he started with.

"I'm exploring my island, you twit."

"I should probably just kill you know."

"You're a hero type. You can't do that."

"Excellent point. So seriously, why are you out here?"

"I'm lost."

"That explains a lot."

"Why are you out here, then?"

"I'm..." he hesitated. "Exploring."

"Do me a favor? Explore in the direction of the fortress."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm lost," he admitted, and we both groaned. I hate my life.

"That doesn't do either of us any good," I said after we were done groaning. "Seriously, don't you have some sort of GPS on your utility belt?"

"No, I get by on muscle alone."

"That doesn't help us much here."

He placed his hands on his hips, hair somehow fluttering in the breeze though it was soaking wet. "Good shall triumph!"

"Um."

"I will find a way out!"

"Uh-huh."

Well, well....

This is enormous. This is huge.

I am a TYRANT. I am a VILLAIN.

I have just taken over an island.

In case you didn't read my last post, let me tell you to go and do that. Now.

I was picked. Out of several hundred applicants, I was picked to receive the possibility to gain control of an island.

The reason it's been quite a while since my last post is because I was busy taking over the island, raising taxes on all ninety-seven inhabitants, and generally causing my reign of terror to begin (I'm sure that SOMEONE was feeling some terror. I hope).

The name of the island is Wonderopolis the Colorful and Candy-filled, home of the sparkling rainbow ponies. I am going to change the name to something along the lines of Gothica. Yes, that has a nice ring...

Soon I will import some minions and henchmen and the like.

You may, perhaps, want an update on the members of my little entourage of one, and my other acquaintances (still only one).

Mathew is still around, acting obnoxious and blaring opera music.

Captain Hero is attempting to incite a rebellion on my little six-by-ten mile island, and so we still do battle on occasion.

In addition to these familiar figures, I would like to introduce a few more people; Pepper and Salt. Fraternal twins. Obviously their parents loathed them with a passion, at least as far as naming goes. Pepper is obviously in charge of these two. She's quite spunky, and enjoys bossing everyone but myself around. Salt is more subdued; he mostly does what Pepper tells him. They're both mercenaries, and work for me.

These changes are quite large, and I hope that the transition from free people to miserable slaves goes smoothly, for you, the inhabitants of Gothica.

I'd wish you luck, but if I don't, there's more for me.

The letter

You might have guessed that the letter I received a few days ago was a Valentine's Day Card or something equally ridiculous.

But no. Instead... it was an invitation. I have been invited to attend a meeting with the leaders of the Board of International Villains (motto: "We will steal your mottoes and slaughter your acronyms.") who will be selecting a villain member to take over rule of an island country that is in need of a tyrant. It's small and reasonably powerless, but this is huge. The ultimate scholarship, if you will.

I don't know if I'm eligible. I have no idea.

But it's a possibility.

Valentine's Day

St. Valentine's day. A time for lovers, romance, eating chocolates until you explode and have to be mopped up, monstrously large and ugly stuffed animals, hearts, cards, and explosions.

Before I get into the discussion of explosions, I'd like to thank you all for your concern about my dislocated shoulder. There was no, y'know, audible concern, but I'd definitely like to think you were all worried about me (HEY! Quit throwing things!) so I thank you. Except you, with the big nose.

Anyhow, the first thing I did on Valentine's Day was get into an argument with Mathew about whether or not it was overlordly to give out flowers on Valentine's. After that, we were all business.

Since Mathew is supposed to be getting an education here, I figured I had better include him in my holiday preparations, so I allowed him to write the note, partially so he learns how to write phony messages, partially because I'd throw up if I tried to write it, and partially because he's got much better penmanship.

And here, without exaggeration, is what he wrote.

Dear Captain Hero,


I have always loved you from afar, watching you defeat that horrid villain, along with so many criminals, but now I manage to find the courage to present you with this box of chocolates, a symbol of my undying love for you, which, sadly, can be chewed and swallowed quickly, but while it remains, is beautiful. Please accept them with my gratitude for your always being there to lend a shadow of comfort to the miserable, wretched people of this town.

~Your 1'253th secret admirer.

Sappy, no? It was perfect.

The chocolates in question were poisoned, rigged to explode, filled with poisonous spiders, and the inside of the heart-shaped box was coated with broken glass.


I had Mathew leave it on the doorstep of Captain Hero's house, and we hid behind a bush to watch.

Unfortunately, Mathew had rigged the explosion slightly wrong.

After we cleaned the dead spiders out of our hair and clothes and ran down the street to avoid Captain Hero's fist of doom, I found a letter in the evil fortress.

Once I read it, it changed everything.

Feel free to guess what it was.

I'll tell you later.

But for now, know that it changed my life for good.

Apologies.

I apologize for my recent lack of blogging. It's partially due to the complexities of my sophisticated and elegant life, and partially due to my laziness.

And so, first order of business. Any tips for removing blood from couch cushions?

Second order of business:

It was come to my attention that Valentine's Day is tomorrow. And so, continuing the tradition that was started by my disastrous attempt on Christmas, I shall attempt to ruin St. Valentine's Day for my nemesis, Captain Hero, who is, unfortunately, still perfectly active. He recently dislocated my shoulder. Again.

This year, for Valentine's Day, my ultimate goal is to destroy the disgusting and abstract concept of romance. Should that fail, I'll settle for at least punching Captain Hero in the face a few times.

Fish Issues

This isn't really evil, but I'm telling you this because it's my excuse as to why it's been a while since I've posted.

I've been setting up a fish tank.

I love the little bubbly skull. And the fish are black- they're so cute!

Ahem. Anyway.

Because I really don't have anything else to do, I've composed a Q&A style guide to starting a fish tank. Successfully, this time.

Q: Do you need to feed them?

A: Yes. Try beer and potato chips. That usually seems to work.

Q: Do snails clean your tank?

A: They clean your tank about as much as they obey the laws of physics. In other words, not very much.

Q: Okay, do snails have brains?

A: No. Neither do you.

Q: What's the best type of tank?

A: I'm not really sure, but I'm leaning towards the watertight variety.

Q: What's the best type of fish?

A: Sharks. Unfortunately, these are a little large.

Cold...

I feel it's necessary to warn you that I don't know when I'll be back to blogging. It's a blizzard outside, and a giant underground fortress is rather hard to heat. So it's way too cold for typing. Sorry about that.

However, if the weather report is accurate (it probably isn't) then I should be back to blogging within a few days. Once I'm finished lazing around and drinking hot chocolate.

January 17th- A few tales of my amazingness.

First off, I'm pretty sure amazingness isn't a word. Whatever.

I actually succeeded in defeating Captain Hero in combat! See, he was charging at me, and I held up this huge mirror, and he got so distracted by checking his hair I managed to escape. So there was no actual combat, but still, I count it as a win.

After he was distracted trying to find me, I managed to finish my business, which was getting some gum from a twenty-five cent machine.

Later, I succeeded in another epic triumph, and that was disposing of all my intern's opera CDs. I have never been happier to smash something other than Captain Hero's nose. Ah, it was fun.

Of course, I'm sure he'll go out and buy a bunch of new ones. But still, a few days worth of peace.

Qaoteriity

Hmm. Apparently I now have the name Qaoteriity on blogland. Interesting.

January 12th- A short rant

Is there a single decent book on the face of the Earth?

I am sick of searching for teenage fantasy novels that aren't all about paranormal romance! When will these authors realize that repetitive plots and stupid good-looking male vampire/fallen angel/demonic characters do not make a good story?

Ugh.

Okay, I'm done now. Really, I am.

Ahem, so, back to the daily update of my evil doings.

Captain Hero beat me up again.

And shoved my head through another window. Ow.

January 9th- Minor crimes

It's interesting... After my disastrous and catastrophic Christmas, I found myself without a world changing plan. Unfortunately, that hasn't changed. I still pull of minor crimes though, to entertain myself, like the one a couple days ago.


There is an organization called the SCA. I don't recall what it stands for, but it's pretty much a bunch of people who like to dress up in medieval clothes, crown a king every few months, sell medieval swords and such, and take on the mannerisms of people who died a long time ago.

Now, they have a celebration on Twelfth Night, and this year, it was held at the same fancy place I was planning on robbing.

So, using my insanely skilled methods of disguise, I crammed myself into an uncomfortable dress, hitched on a dagger and a beaded hair ornament, and attended.

It was highly amusing, I must tell you, to be with all these people who bowed and acted extraordinarily courteously and didn't even know I was planning on pulling off a major theft.

At least, until I tried pulling off the major theft, fell off a chandelier, and landed in the middle of a bunch of people holding swords.

Not fun.

Luckily there was a window near by, so I ran at that and fell through. I totally forgot that I was on the second floor.

Lucky that tree was there.

Now I'm scratched up and bruised.

And to top it off, the intern is playing opera.

January 6th- Milestone!

I officially have a blog minion! Hahaha!

Ahem. Thank you, random blog minion.

....

That's pretty much it.

Ode to Spot

I am, I admit, a Star Trek fan. And I just couldn't help sticking this piece, from Commander Data, up.

Felis catus is your taxonomic nomenclature,

An endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature;

Your visual, olfactory, and auditory senses

Contribute to your hunting skills and natural defenses. I find myself intrigued by your subvocal oscillations,

A singular development of cat communications

That obviates your basic hedonistic predilection

For a rhythmic stroking of your fur to demonstrate affection.

A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents;

You would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance.

And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion,

It often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.

O Spot, the complex levels of behavior you display

Connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array.

And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,

I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.

January 4th- New Years

There have, as evident by my last post, been a few goings on on the last month. I figured I would cover pretty much everything happened so far.

First, I'd like to wish you all a Happy New Year. The world is supposed to end this year, apparently. I'm not holding my breath.

Second, a few personal updates. Captain Hero and me still constantly engage in nemesis battles. Nothing's changed there. What was that quote from Megamind (not that I actually WATCH animated kids movies except... okay fine, I kind of do. Sometimes. A little.), 'he would win some, I would almost win others.'

Thirdly, everyone's favorite opera loving intern is back, more nerdy than ever. Joy.

Fourthly, I stubbed my toe. Ow.

And that would be it. Still working on my next take-over-the-world level plan.