Nemonok: A meeting of the minds

I had made it to the final two, and without winning any of these challenges, I might add. Interesting how the clone just got two wins in a row. If I were the paranoid type, I might accuse the judges of malfeasance, though I am sure that is not the case as it is apparent to me that they do not know the meaning of the word.

I am an evil mastermind, but I am also a gentleman (or a gentlebrain, as I have heard many times before), and as a gentleman, I will certainly congratulate Army of (Cl)one on his win and making the finals. As there is not better time than the present, I rolled my brain containment case right up next to him. He was busy working on some business or whatnot I do not know, it was of no concern of mine.

“Ahh!” he yelled. “Don’t sneak up on a guy like that! I coulda shot you.”

“Mr. Clone, congratulations on your second immunity and on making it to the finals.”

“Thanks,” he said warily. “Congratulations on making it to the final yourself.”

“Good luck on the final challenge as well.”

“Yeah,” he looked at me a little cockeyed. At least I am fairly sure that it was cockeyed, it’s hard to tell through that helmet. “Good luck to you, too.”

“Please, please, put yourself at ease. I am just here to congratulate you. We may be evil masterminds and in the middle of a fierce competition, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be gentlemen about it.”

“Yeah, or gentlebrain,” he replied.

“Yes, yes, I have heard that before. Anyway, very nice to see you.” Heh heh, I may be a mastermind, but this clone certainly has a long way to go before he could ever be anywhere near my league.

“Yes,” he replied. “Very nice to see you, too.”

“And I will be going.” I rolled my containment unit back slightly.

“And I will be going as well,” he replied and took a step back.

“Very well. Good day to you, sir.” I slid back another meter.

“And good day to you as well,” he replied as he took another step back.

“Unfortunately, I must get going. I have a doomsday device to make and all.” I slid back a bit more.

“As do I, as do I,” he replied and took another step back.

“So I will be off, then.”

“Me too.”

“Are you going to turn and walk away?”

“Maybe,” he replied suspiciously. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Very well, I shall.” I slid back a bit more.

“And so shall I,” he replied and took a step back.

“Ah, this is foolishness. Of course you are not going to shoot me in the back, I don’t have a back.”

“And you’re not going to shoot me in the back,” he answered. “You can’t carry a gun.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

“Well go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

“Very well. Good day to you sir.” I quickly slid out of the room. The door glided closed behind me and I chuckled to myself maniacally. “Heh heh heh. He never suspected what I did to him.”

“Good day to you as well!” I heard him call out through the closed door. I thought that I heard him chuckle maniacally as well. It must have been the door sliding shut.

Le Finale - Thats The Final in french

VS

Personally I can't believe its come down to you two idiots. Thank God I'm not voting.

Nemonock - Who is voting?

Tak - Yeah!

Well I will be requesting a vote from all of the players who didn't make it to the final round to e-mail me at screamingmonnkey@yahoo.co.uk for who they thought won as well as the usual online poll. So its the public plus the past players that decide who wins the next challenge.

Nemonock - That sounds like trickery. The public loves the clone cause he's a simpleton and an ignoramus.

Tak - Yeah I'm famous.

Lets stop this right now and get on with it.

The final challenge is .................................
.........................................................................
.......................................................:).......................................
......................................;(....................................

Wait for it...........................................................

Build a Doomsday device and use it to take over China.

Same deadline as per usual (12am Sunday Morning New York time). You have to build the device, and use it to take over China. I don't care how you do it, just do it.

Remember those who were voted off and the public are going to decide the winner.

Who wants to be a super villain is proudly brought to you by Freaking Huge Clocks.
- If you want it big. Its got to be Freaking Huge! -

The verdict

Henchy had his head in his hands.
"Awww Nuts!" He screamed. Actually he said something other than Nuts but this is a PG show and we can't have that kind of language here.
"50 bucks Henchy pay up." says Lin. Holding her hand out eagerly.
"Rassafrassa loosing to a rassafrassa synthoid." He stuffs his hand into his pocket and pulls out the required amount. Lin snatches it away and begins a rather vulgar display of bad winning.
"I got Henchy's money.I got Henchy's money.I got Henchy's money." she sings while skipping out of the room.

"I can't believe that Bennet er, Buttler lost." complains Henchy.

"Neither can I." I reply. "I thought Nemonock was going down. But all of the sudden there were all these votes. I've been able to trace them to a Washington account. Under the name of P.N.Guin."

"That's got to be a fake name." questions Henchy.

"No its real. It all checks out." I tell him.

Mr Buttler.

You are not a Super Villain

What Lin bought with her winnings -

She calls it her Henchy Bike

The semi final - The vote

Ha!

I remember how this feels.

You've been coasting through the rounds and doing well then you reach the semi-final. And you don't get immunity.

Losers!

So now we have to decide between a brain in a jar and a guy with glasses.

Get to it!

Who leaves?
	Nemonock
	Mr Buttler
pollcode.com free polls

Semi Final - I hate you all.

"Lin your judging the semi-final." Koma tells me. "And this time I want you to be sober for it."
"Meh!" I reply.
"Lin promise me you'll be sober or I'll set your perkiness on cheerleader." he threatens. It wasn't an idle threat. Koma doesn't make threats that he wont carry out. And since I found out how to be cool and got me a cool posse I got a reputation to keep. I can't be all bubbly and perky again. I tell the "ex" I'll be sober. He's easily placated.

To prepare for the judging I go and play my favourite video game.

Gingerbread Woman.

Its so cool. You get to play as Ginger Bread woman and beat up all these guys. Its so good for getting out my frustration.

Well after all of that I decided to read these attempts at destroying christmas.

Nemonock - Brains of Endearment. The story of a homicidal Sinéad O'Connor freak and her unrequited love for a brain in jar. Also somewhere in there was a plan to have the USA wage war on Santa Claus and Christmas. Dick Cheney should be the Penguin in a Batman movie one day. Its prefect casting but I'm just waiting for Gun Nut to come to her senses and realise that your just another manipulative man. Its just that you lack the proper equipment to really satisfy a women.

Oh I meant a heart. You sick pervs thought I was meaning his penis. Weren't you?


Mr Buttler - Hmmm! I think many right wing Christians would be quite aghast at your tenure as Pope. Well they always said the Pope was the anti-christ, but I doubt your truly evil enough to go through with it. I mean there's still an X-mas. Ugh! Talk about cop out city. I was expecting this to go somewhere. Then again what do you expect from a character that exists in a show where something might happen once every fifth episode. Careful there Mr Buttler you almost had something happen.


Tak - Everyones favourite Imperial Storm-trooper. Your hench-people have way too much control in your organistation so I'd be watching your back. Despite this you managed to get Santa killed and an LA gang blamed for his death.

So I give the final immunity to Tak.

Ha! Eat that.

I'm going back to playing Ginger bread Woman.

AOC: Koma Christmas Deathwish

“So who is this Santa guy that Koma wants killed?” I ask my Hench squad.

Both look at me a little surprised.

“Hello, from a different Galaxy! Don’t know all the local dignitaries. Jeez peole throw me a Frinckin’ bone or something.” I glare

Gabby starts in “Well boss, Sandy Clause is the guy who bring all the presents at Christmas time. He dresses in red, sneaks down the chimney and leaves Christmas gifts.”

“Does everyone get gifts?” I ask

“Oh no," Chimes in Samantha. “only the people on the nice list. If you are on the naughty list then you get a lump of coal or some lame thing. The good thing is if you are nice you can write Santa a letter and ask for a specific gift.”

That must be why Koma hates him. I can’t see Koma being on the Nice list.

“And he does this on “Christmas”? What is Christmas?” I inquire some more.

“It the holiday that about 1/6th of the planet celebrates to honor the birth of their God. Well his son, but it is him also. It all get a little confusing, so most of us don’t think about it too much.” Gabby tells me.

“Well that is weird. What does that guy in the red suit have to do with all of that?” I ask

“Don’t start asking that,” Samantha tells me,” you’ll just upset Bill O’Riley and Rush Limbaugh and get them all riled up about the war on Christmas.”

“Cool. You guys have a war on Christmas. That is a really weird way to celebrate the birth of a God, but hey who am I to knock other cultures.” I smile at the two of them.

The both have that look on their face again.

“Well, back to the task at hand. Let me see if I have the basic facts. 1) Santa wears red 2) Santa goes to house on his “nice” list 3) he deliver presents that you asked for. Do I have all that right?” I ask my Hench squad.

They both nod yes.

“Ok then, Gabby I need you to find the an address for this organization.” I had him a piece of paper. “And Samantha I need you to see if you can Slice into …. I mean hack into Santa’s Nice list and put this name and the address Gabby gives you. Also the present you should put down for this person is an Uzi.”


They both look a little stunned, but jump in to action.

On Christmas morning I wake up my Hench Squad and flip on the news.

Today we have a tragic story to report. In South Central Los Angles last night a man dressed as Santa broke into the headquarters of the CRISP gang, carrying a Uzi. Apparently the 35 member of the CRISP gang though he was a member of the Aryan Nation trying to disguise himself as a member of the North side Bloods. He was shot 183 time.


SANTA’S GOT A GUN, THE DOG DAY JUST BEGUN

In other news Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator surged ahead in the Iowa…..

I turn the TV off, hand Gabby and Samantha Christmas presents and head to the kitchen for some hot coco.


KOMA THE DAY AFTER.

Mission Six: X-Mas

The challenge was on to destroy Christmas. I began to doubt my own commitment to being a super villain. Sure, I shot the Pope and even kidnapped Jane Fonda forcing her to treadmill for eternity. But now we're talking about going up against Santa. Even super villains should have the decency not to mess with the Fat Man.

I decided the easiest way to destroy Christmas would be to attack its source: Jerry Christ.

"Jesus Christ," The Haitian corrected.

"Right. Jesus Christ. To the Vatican!"

I put on my big hat and gathered the cardinals together.


"Ladies and gentlemen," I began.

"There are no ladies here," Cardinal Jim spoke out.

"Oh, good," I replied and let out my gut. It really strains the intestines sucking it all in. "I've called you here today for an emergency meeting about Christmas. We have to destroy it, and only we have that power."

The Cardinals applauded. "For years," Cardinal Jim said, "we have been forced to compete with St. Nicholas. We even tried revoking his sainthood. Christmas should be our holiday, it's about Christ, our lord, and it's about time we take it back!"

"Exactly. It is is about Christ, your lord. But taking it back won't work. We have to get rid of it completely. So, we need to rid this Jesus guy from Christianity."

"But," said Cardinal Cassius, "he is the secret ingredient in our Eucharist bread!"

"And the foundation of Christianity," Cardinal Jim added.

"Then we'll need to find a new secret ingredient."

I called up my good friend and mortal enemy, Professor X.

"Hey, Charles. Find some reindeer and attach to your wheelchair. Have the mutants make a lot of toys and deliver them to the nice children on December 25th."

"Who is this?" he replied.

I knew it was sarcasm. His telepathic abilities should have identified me, even over an iPhone. "I know you know it's me!" I replied.

"But do you know that I know you know I know it's you?"

He was clearly drunk. "Can you help me or not?"

"I'm leaning toward not," he replied.

Could a man in a wheelchair lean?

He continued, "After the ketchup incident, why should I?"

"Because Christians deny evolution, and now is your chance to show them the truth!"

"Their ignorance does not affect me. I have my own school for the gifted where I teach evolution first hand."

"Well," I thought hard. "What about all the good kids that are going to miss out on Santa this year?"

"Miss out? Why?"

"The President bombed the North Pole. Santa's awaiting trial and will likely be hanged."

This seemed to strike a nerve with the pedophile...uh, I mean paraplegic. He paused, obviously thinking about the little ones.

"Yes, I am thinking about the little ones," he said. "I'd hate to see them go without their toys. I'll do it."

The X-Men all started working hard on restoring what the Bush Administration destroyed. Hopefully they can do a better job than the Democrats.

"Sir," The Haitian said to me, "how exactly is this evil? And for that matter, doesn't it do the opposite of what the challenge called for?"

He was right of course, but I couldn't show incompetence in front of my minions. That was Wonka's mistake, and now he's wearing concrete shoes at the bottom of the chocolate river. I quickly thought up a new and devious plan. "I have a new and devious plan," I replied to the man from Haiti. "Let the X-Men restore Christmas. We'll switch the nice and naughty list. The good kids will get nothing but coal, except for the good, poor, cold kids. Coal would be a good thing for them. We'll give them ice instead. And the naughty, well they'll get all the greatest gadgets our corporate world has to offer!"

With a sinister smile, and using anti-telepathic techniques the company taught me, I handed Professor X the revised lists. He flew off the roof to unknowingly do my bidding.



Goodbye Christmas, Hello X-Mas.