Mingling Madness

Koma and the gang showed all of us do-badders to the space lounge after we were all settled into our respective quarters. "Be fertile and multiply!" he said, opening the doors.

"Don't really multiply," Henchman said. "We only have so many camera crews."

Everyone made their way inside, talking, mingling, chit-chatting. Evil chit-chatting. Magneto, for some reason, was talking to a metal bar stool. That was fine by me, as I hope to avoid that particular villain. Metal is paper's worst enemy.

I first made eye contact with Gyrobo. "Hey, I remember you!" I said to him.

He replied with something about cheese pancakes and showed me an irrelevant sketch of a water cooler being attacked by a swarm of trident-wielding fleas.

"Is that the wife?" I asked.

"Ketchup on the bones. Go, go go!" he replied.

That was an interesting thought, but I felt the urge to mingle further. TX was sitting at the bar all alone. Sensing her loneliness, I approached.

(Note to Sandra: My only intentions were to mingle, in a totally non-sexual way.)

"So, time travel," I said, taking a seat beside her, "I hear it makes you naked."

"The time travel mechanism only transports the terminator unit. Apparel of any kind would be pointless as it would not make the journey."

"May be you should travel to a clothing store or something, instead of the middle of the street. Just some advice, you know, in case you ever do some important time traveling.

TX's eyes drifted behind me. I turned to see a brain in a pickle jar.

"Holy bottled cerebrum, Batman!" I said startled.

"Batman is not my moniker," the thing answered. "I am Dr. Nemonock, renowned psychologist and future winner of this competition."

"What happened to your body?" I asked.

"What body?"

"Uh...look behind you, a three-headed monkey!" I attempted to dart off as he turned, but instead he spouted some scientific mumbo jumbo about the nonexistence of three-headed monkeys. I left anyway, besides it seemed he had his eyes on TX, if he had eyes, that is.

Looking around at all these stupendously evil contestants, I realized I'd have to step up my game, reconnect with my old evil self. I had to ask myself, what would Primatech do?

Bag and tag!

I snuck up behind Bruce Cain as he was talking to a stormtrooper. I put my finger over my lips to signal "Shh!" to the cadet.

"Yep. Crazy, those Jedi," he said loudly, distracting my soon to be victim.

I hit Cain over the head with an industrial size stapler (all paper pushers carry them).

"Ouch," he said, turning around.

Now that he was unconscious, it was time to mark him for tracking. I took an index card out of my pocket and wrote on it, "Bruce Cain, Subject #0324-8, Power: None, Threat: None" and stapled it to his jacket.

"Hey!" he said, pulling at the card.

"Nice work," the stormtrooper said.

"You too," I replied. I quickly left the scene before Cain could realize what happened.

I took a seat in the corner with my old friend and enemy, Synth-Lin.

(Note to Sandra: Non-sexually! I swear!)

"Hey, Bennet," she said.

"Shhh!" I put my hand over her mouth. "It's Butler now. I'm on the run."

"From Professor X because of the ketchup incident on Last Gladiator Standing 2?"

"Ha! Yeah, right. I'm going to run from a paraplegic. Ha!"

Suddenly, that brain thing jumped out from nowhere! "A secondary encounter. How pleasant," it bantered.

"Ah!" I screamed as I ran away.