“Oh, Nemmy, wasn’t the party on the Enterprise wonderful?” Gun Nut interrupted my brooding as she threw her arms around my brain containment jar.
An evil mastermind such as me needs his brooding time. I find this new challenge is, for lack of a better term, challenging. Should I shoot Santa’s sled from the skies? Should I travel back in time to prevent the birth of this planet’s savior? Should I fly into the city and steal all the presents? All this seems too easy. I need something special. Something that will really put this planet on its proverbial ear.
“Not now, Gun Nut. Can’t you see that this is my brooding time? I have a challenge to prepare for.”
“But it’s Christmas,” she continued. “It’s the most magical time of the year! I even got you something. Here.”
I looked at the elaborately decorated box, then looked at my female companion, then looked at the box again.
“How am I supposed to open that?”
“Fine, I’ll open it for you,” she said still smiling. She tore the wrappings off and held up some sort of a control box in front of me. “It’s a Nintendo Wii! I stole it for you myself. These things are so much fun.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is, but how am I to play it? I cannot hold the controller.”
Gun Nut’s smile dropped and she looked at me. “Well it’s the thought, you know. For Christmas, it’s not just about what you get, it’s about what the giver gives you. One year, my dad gave me a pound of pork chops. They were delicious, even though that didn’t stop me from shooting him a few years later, I guess. It’s the thought.”
“Very well, thank you for your thoughtful gift. Now please give me a moment to ponder this challenge.”
“Ugh!” My maniacal, gun toting assassin threw the box down in an uncharacteristic fit of rage. “Do you even like me anymore? Sometimes I think all that you care about is your stupid plans. You’ve never even met my parents.”
“Of course I like you. When in your presence, my brain containment fluid temperature rises 6 to 9 degrees and the electrical activity of my brain itself increases 11 percent. Clearly that shows how I feel for you. Additionally, I cannot meet your parents; you killed them both years ago.”
“My mom’s still alive,” she sobbed and stomped out of my office, shoving past Apocalypto Pickle along the way.
“Hey boss, what’s with her?” he asked.
“Bah, women, you can’t live with them and you can’t remove their brains and force them to live disembodied in a jar of nutrients.”
“I know what you mean, boss,” he nodded and grinned. “I’ve pretty much given up on women myself.”
Pickle stepped out the door, but his image was replaced by a ghostly image of someone from long ago in my past. Someone who I thought that I would never see again as he appeared to be my former college professor and mentor. But he was long dead, wasn’t he?
“Dr. Nemonok, I would have a word with you,” the image spoke to me.
“Professor Kingsford J. Cerebelok, is that really you?”
“Indeed it is,” it replied. “Though I have gone on to the next level of existence, I have returned but this one time to see you.”
“What do you want of me?”
“Much,” it replied.
“Very well, be on with it then. I haven’t got all day.”
“Nemonok, I must warn you. I am forever cursed to wander the galaxy as penitence for what I have done. Do not follow my footsteps, be a better man. Er, disembodied brain in a jar. You do not have to be evil.”
“Is this all you have come to tell me? I will hear no more of it, I have work to do. Evil work.”
“Doctor, I must warn you, you can still escape this fate by the visitation from the spirits three,” Cerebelok continued. “They will see you here, tonight!”
“Then I shall be going. I have important matters to attend to.”
I quickly gathered my four henches (Gun Nut begrudgingly came along, though she gave me the “silent treatment” for the entirety of the trip) and we flew to Washington DC in my Shadow Stealthship. Once at the capitol of the most powerful nation on this planet, my crew and I disembarked to speak with the evil Dick Cheney.
“You want to what?” he seemed shocked. “Wah wah.”
“I want to destroy Christmas. Please just send your troops and weapons to the North Pole and destroy it.”
“You can’t do that,” he spat. “It’s evil.”
“Yes, I know that. I’m evil, you’re evil. We’re all evil, so let’s just go destroy Christmas.”
“But Christmas is the one time of year where even evil gets a holiday,” he answered. “You can’t be evil on Christmas. You just can’t.”
“What’s goin’ on in here?” President George Bush walked in on our meeting. He took one look at me and my henches and did a double take. “Now, I’ve seen some weird ones in Austin, buncha dirty dang hippies, but this is the weirdest sight I ever did laid eyes on. Hey Laura, get a load a the brain ina jar!”
“I have no time for this. Bob, fire the Hypnoray.”
“With pleasure, boss.”
With these mindless fools under my control, I quickly sent them to the television broadcast room to send a very important message to the people of this nation.
“My fellow ‘Mericans,” Bush spoke somberly. “We have a saying in ‘Merica, I know we say it in Texshush, I think you all say it in ‘Merica: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, uh, I won’t get fooled again.
“My job is a decision-making job, and as a result, I make a lot of decisions, and for too long, the freedom lovin’ people of this nation and of this world have been living in fearful rule of one man. All of us in America want there to be fairness when it comes to justice, and this one man has been living beyond fairnessness and justice for too long.
“These are big achievements for this country, and the people of ‘Merica ought to be proud of the achievements that they have achieved, but in achieving those achievements there is an achievement that we have yet to obtain. Santa Claus has been conducting a one man campaign against the morals and decency of God-fearing ‘Mericans for too long.
“My fellow ‘Mericans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Santa Claus forever. We begin bombing in five minutes. For all who love freedom and peace, the world without Santa Clauses’s regime is a better and safer place. Thank you and good night.”
And with the order from my brain dead puppet, the American Military forces deployed a carrier group to the North Pole. Jet craft carpet bombed Christmas Village and ground forces rushed in to capture Saint Nick, who was quickly found hiding in a spider hole. President Bush quickly flew to the aircraft carrier and delivered a “Mission accomplished speech” to raise morale of the troops.
“We have brought in a special CIA operator and master interrogator the Warrior, Dr. Nemonok,” Dick Cheney told me as I surveyed the sight from the comforts of the White House strategy center. “We’ll have that fat goose singing like a canary in no time, wah wah.”
“Splendid. A merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night, indeed.”