Build a new lair?
HA! I could do that in my sleep. I've built nurmerous lairs over the years. Mountains, satillites . . I even had my own country. Of course they all got destroyed. That's the problem with being magnificent. Everyone is jealous and doesn't want me to have what is rightfully mine.
Well this time I am going to build a secret lair that is indestructable! No one shall ever be able to take it from me! Bwahaahahahahahaaaaa!!!!
Oh yes! It shall be the ultimate fortress! I shall construct it out of pure admantium! There will be lazar turrets every ten feet! The wall surrounding it will be 50 feet high! I'll put barb wire on top of it! It will be impregnatable!
Er, impregnitable. Inpreg . . impro . .
No one shall get in!!
Using the full extent of my awesome powers I quickly leveled a 7-11 near the hotel and raised up my fortress, carefully crafting each wall, floor and ceiling. Exhausted after hours of laboring, I returned to the hotel with specific instructions to my henchmen to finish my new lair.
The next morning I was woken to startled squeeling. It was my henchman who dressed like a police officer.
"Mags! We did it! We did it!"
"Did what, you clod?"
"Your new lounge is finished! And it's fab-u-lous!"
"Lounge? What on Earth are you blathering about? Do you mean my secret lair?"
"Yes!"
I left with the Village People to investigate my new fortress.
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..
..
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To say the least, I was not impressed. Obviously it would have to be re-done. There wasn't time now though. The trap I had laid for my arch-nemisis was about to be sprung. I could hear the squeaky wheels of my pigeon approaching.
"Eric?" the Bald One asked as he neared the five foot thick outer door of my fortress.
"Hello Charles . . and good-bye," I said, surpressing my evil laugh as I pressed the remote control of the neartest laser turret. A flurry of red balloons shot out from the nozzle and floated down around Xavier. Damn those Village People.
"Er, the balloons are certainly a nice welcome, but I believe your note said you had the $20 you owe me?"
"Yes, yes of course. It's just in here," I said, pointing inside my lair. That last trap may have failed, but this next one was sure to destroy him! Bwwahahahahahaaa!!
"This is, um, certainly an interesting new look for you, Eric," Xavier said as we entered the main room of my lair.
"Yes well, I let my henchmen do the interior design and, well anyway I'm going to have them all killed."
"Oh I don't know Eric, it does go with your pink costume and, um, cape."
"It's not pink! My battlesuit is red! Blood red! The color of war!"
"Sure it is," Xavier said smugly.
"Fine, whatever. Why don't you just roll over there onto that X and I'll give you what I owe you."
I watched with growing anticipation as the Bald One moved onto the X. The fool! When he was in position I pushed the button on the remote to open the trap door over the shark filled tanks below. There was no way he was going to survive this!
Immediately after I pressed the button, multi-colored lights started swirling all around us and fluttering streamers shot down from the ceiling, filling the air. Truly annoying, loud disco music started playing, too. Man, do I hate those Village People.
"You know it's not my birthday, Eric," Charles said with a smirk.
"What?!" I spat. "This is not to honor you, you bald fool! I'm trying to kill you!"
"Well you certainly are doing an impressive job of it."
"Forget it, you liberal hippie commie deluded sentimentalist fool! I had plenty of other unbeatable traps set up here. A giant 50 ton weight would fall on your head over there. Spiked walls would slam together crushing you in the hallway over there. There's poison gas. Burning acid. Scorching flames. This lair had it all! But now I'm going to kill you the old fashioned way! With my bare hands! Bwaahahahhahahahaahahhaaa!!!"
"But you forgot one thing, Eric, my powers of mind-control."
"And you forgot just one thing, Baldy! My helmet protects me from your powers! There's nothing you can do to me!"
"But you forgot just one other thing, Eric. You're not the only one in this room."
To my shock I felt my helmet being lifted off my head. I spun around and saw the Indian Chief standing behind me, holding my helmet. His eyes had that vacant glassy look that morons get when Xavier has taken control of their simpleton brain.
I snatched my helmet from his hands and used the metal beads around his neck to send him flying across the room. I was just putting my helmet back on when everything went dark.
When I awoke an hour later, my henchmen and a crowd of leather clad men with far too much facial hair were dancing in the command center of my lair. I quickly checked my wallet and found $20 missing.
Damn the Bald One!
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10 comments:
a valiant effort, my purple-hued friend. Better luck next time... Or maybe not, ha ha ha!
And by purple-hued, I mean tha you are clad in purple, not that you have purple skin. Though I hope you already understood that.
tsk tsk.... You people have much to learn...
Lesson one, and take notes peons
1) NEVER trust the henchman to do the interior design. They always screw it up.
2) Always have a plan C and D . A and B usually never work
3) Lasers and shark tanks are so overdone. Think outside the box, be orignal
4) henchman-mind controlled zombies. You always get what you want , unless you love pink but want black in your room.
5) guard against telepaths...
The quick notes on how to become EFFECTIVE super villans, want my book?6 payments 39.95 and you too can rule the galaxy
*some restrictions may aply but not limited to death, force lightning and assanations, results may vary*
*bows and exits back to her NON village peopled lair*
Want to trade arch-nemesises? Arch-nemesisi*? Arch-nemesisis*?
Wait a minute, you let a Village People grab your purple helmet, then you woke up with a bunch of hairy leather boys and $20 missing?
I wanna party with you, man!
I knew something was strange when I saw a line forming outside the 7-11.
You could've at least put up an "Under New Management" sign before I went in and tried to buy a slurpee.
Things went horribly wrong.
No straws!
*Humming YMCA*
That was a killer party, but it was a regular mast fest in there, you know what I mean? Like a bird shop, one to many Cockatoo.
Next time invire a few girls ok.
but that nice construction worker gave me his number and said he would like to help fix my backdoor. He said he had the perfect tool for me.
Well I'm glad someone had a good time.
Snazzy joint brother.
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