Discworld and Member Articles
|
|
Written by Roman_K
|
|
Tuesday, 23 August 2005 |
-48:00
”…and if my demands are not met forty-eight hours from now, I will make true my threat."
Click
The Doctor stepped away from the camera. Everything was going according to the Plan.
Mwahahahaha!!! Ahem.
Still plenty of time left. Let's take a look at the mail.
Hmmm… another letter from the Expendable Sidekick's Union. There was such a thing as a bit too much cheek, wasn't there? He'd already had to get rid of the shark aquarium because of the damn buggers. Can't an evil mastermind throw the occasional sidekick into the shark pool when he's bored anymore?
What was it now? He opened the letter.
Damn! It was the wages again. The damn fools thought they were entitled to some. Oh well, it's not like they were likely to survive 'till the end of the month…
The Doctor wondered what they would ask for next. It'll probably be the insurance thing again. Or the uniform. Didn't they know that funny and degrading uniforms were part of the Code?
He couldn't see what they were complaining about, in any case. Purple with orange stripes was a blessing in such matters. They should see what ol'e Brassfinger was dressing his lot in. The Doctor shuddered. No one should be forced to wear Teletubbies suits. Some things were just too evil.
The doctor sat down in his armchair. It wasn't always like this. Not in the good old days. There weren't all these Unions and Leagues around, for starters. A mad Doctor could stand tall, extort a few millions from a small country, get beaten by the hero, spend some time in a maximum security prison, organize a revolt, escape, and so on and so forth.
Speaking of Leagues, the Evil Mastermind League just sent him another letter. They wanted him to get a new white cat. To hell with them. Didn't they realize he was still in mourning for Mister Fluffy, who had the Unfortunate Death Ray Accident? He never did get to the bottom of that one, but he suspected that the cat wanted to realign the controls towards a dog show in London, and accidentally activated the self destruct mechanism…
Poor soul. The Doctor still missed the way he brutally savaged the help. It was interesting, the way Mister Fluffy treated fully grown people as if they were mice. It took a while to convince him not leave bits of them on the doorstep. It made the place untidy.
The Doctor smiled to himself. Ah, memories… It was always better to remember the good times one had with his loved ones. Like the time when he first taught his little fluffy kitten to press the big red button on the man-handling machine*…
Shaking himself loose from the memories, the Doctor read the remainder of the letter.
Damn! The old farts were coming for an inspection. He'd have to shave his hair again, and dig up that stupid monocle, not to mention ze accent. Was it his fault that he didn't have a strange physical disfigurement, and no German or British accent? Was it now? Eh? Eh?!? Ahem.
Anyway, last time they were here, the damn bastards said that the only reason they allowed him to remain in his position was because there was no problem with the Sanity Clause. The Doctor didn't get that one. He was, after all, perfectly sane.
They called him mad once, in his hometown. Mad, y'hear! Mad!!! Ahem. Well, he certainly showed them. He'd arranged the opening of over four-hundred fast food restaurants across the small town. That'll show 'em. One of these days they'll all wake up fat and artery-clogged, and then they'd wish they treated him better.
With these happy thoughts in mind, the Doctor dozed off. There was still plenty of time 'till the deadline.
-46:17
Viktor, the Doctor's personal assistant, came running into the control room of the Doctor's underground complex. Being an assistant to a mad genius was a tradition in Viktor's family. His father was still working with Dr. Yes, and his grandfather Igor certainly had some interesting stories to tell. The one story he kept avoiding was the one that explained why he wasn't dead yet, since according to his tales he was in his one hundred and fifties. Viktor always thought it had to do with all the lightning strikes. The old chap was a walking lightning rod, really.
Viktor looked around the room, spotted the sleeping Doctor, ran to him, and shook him awake. "Wake up, herr Doktor! Wake up! A terrible thing has happened!"
The Doctor was quickly up. This was what he lived for, the excitement, the adrenaline, the big leather suitcases filled with unmarked bills. Now this was the life.
"Calm own, Viktor, calm down. What has been happening in my small domain while I was resting? Are we discovered? Or is it the plumbing again?"
A suspicion which was slowly rising from his subconscious made itself known.
"Viktor," asked the Doctor slowly, dreading to voice his fear, "would you please tell me why you have developed a German accent? Th-the inspection committee from the EML isn't here already, is it? IS IT?!?"
"No, no, calm down, Doc." said Viktor, wiping away the spittle from his face. "Just practicin', is all. They're only due tomorrow, but I'm thinkin' we need to be prepared for 'em. The problem's with the Statue."
The Doctor was getting impatient. "What's the problem, exactly? My plan was flawless! Flawless, I say! You get to the Statue of Libery at night, I create a massive blackout in New-York, and then you use my patented Shrinking Ray on the statue, take it, and then I hold it for ransom, threatening to sell it to a French terrorist group. Surely there's nothing simpler?"
"Well, errr, there's still a problem, Doc." And at this point Viktor wiped away the forming beads of sweatfrom his forehead.
"Errr, you'd better sit down, Doc. You're going to get angry, and you know how that affects your blood-pressure."
The Doctor was already getting angry, and was barely keeping himself under control. Like a gas leak, it would take only a small spark to make him blow. Viktor was going to supply one, it seemed.
"What. Happened."
"Well, errr, we got to the island, safe and sound, and we got the statue as planned, but then the boys decided to raid the gift shops…"
"And? What of it?" The needle was already in the Danger zone, and approaching Explosion Eminent.
"Well, errr, w-we've got the statue, as I said, but now we don't know which one of the fifteen thousand, six hundred, and thirteen statues we've got is the real one."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
To be continued…
* Bought from the H.A.R.M scrap sale, and refitted by the Doctor, this machine was capable of turning a human being into a still-living box. The process was even 25% reversible, giving you the option of rewarding the boxed people for their good behavior by turning them into pale shadows of their former selves.
 |
|
|
Subscribe to this comment's feed