Saturday, 22 March 2014

But This Time Neat

I was called an unfortunate event
The other moment
And it felt like a temptation
It felt like a blow
It made me
Think of redemption
Before I poured that glass of scotch
And then I sat there brooding
And then I thought of all that I had loved and
Those who'd maybe even loved me
And I sat and sipped all alone
As the fire crackled
And a spider crawled along the wall and I watched it
It moved with grace and I sipped and
The ice went chink in my glass
And I thought some more and I
Watched the spider leave
As things inevitably do
And I thought to myself
About being called
An unfortunate event
And wondered at why I would be so mean to
As to call myself that
And I rose and poured another glass
Of scotch
But this time

The Society for Evil, Debauchery and Kitten Appreciation Presents: The Terror Syndrome Known as Love.

Yes, True Love. It can be a real thorn in the side of any evil corporation, dark empire or cuddly revolutionary group trying to take over the planet. Especially if this terrible, maddening disease gets at those people at the top. Suddenly generals known for cruelty and a mentality hard as nails are wanting to buy everyone an aperitif and trade sappy anecdotes. Suddenly absolute rulers fists are not at all iron-like, but as malleable as a small duck who's been plied with several rounds of tequila. They get all mooshey and cow eyed and grin inanely when they should be minging mercilessly. Yes indeedy, Love is a bane, true danger, and cause for worry in any 'Number 2' worth his or her salt and pepper.

Yes, when thus afflicted the newly smitten seem to want to forgive everyone and inflict on them uncomfortable hugs and icky warm embraces. They'll decide not to drop captured agents in that vat of acid or giant fishbowl de-la-piranha, but rather bore then to death by telling them all about the handsome man or gorgeous gal they're into. It is a serious problem this thing called LOVE and when they at the top become afflicted only trouble may result. Averting catastrophe in the early stages can be your only hope. Besides happy people fucking suck. Let's repeat that:


Always smiling inanely and floating about the room and bringing the normal miserable rest of us down.

So, here below are some helpful hints and pointers on how to determine if yes, the evil overlord is in love, the head of the assassin's guild is in love, or even the head waiter is indeed afflicted with that dreaded virus: love. (No one likes a blissful head waiter grinning like an ass who can't concentrate on what the h'ordeuvres are.)

Your Overlord is in Love if:

1) He starts wearing snappy fashionable clothing in vivid pastels instead of the requisite black and brooding. Also, you can see his teeth way more often in what may be described as some kind of inverted grimace previously foreign to him.

2) The boss's evil cat is decidedly scratchy to the staff and in a foul, jealous mood, having had to share the bed in the evil lair of late with the new love interest, or worse, been confined to the couch!

3) The execution squad has so much time off they've begun to learn pinochle and to finally get right all the moves to 'Achey Breaky Heart'.

4) The evil general's assignments move from devastating and ruthless attacks against dreaded mortal enemies The Society for Good, Chastity and Dog Appreciation to trips to the chocolate shops and redecorating books crop up on the evil coffee tables.

5) And lastly, there is a final dread symptom that marks the death knell of any evil society, this being the initiation of bad poetry. Poetry is tried out on the under staff to 'see what you think and if she'll like it'. Poems recited nervously on the love interest's joyously large buttocks and streamingly luxurious armpit hair are to be especially feared.

Dealing with Evil Goons in Love:

Just shoot them.
Goons can be replaced. Or grow more in the ol' cloning pond down by the way. No one likes a goon chattering on and on about how he's met his absolute soul mate anyways, when he should be pounding his sledge-like fists into an opponent's sternum. With goonery silence is always the golden rule.

On Dealing with Your Evil Overlord After He's Been Dumped:

Well, sometimes bosses kill their Number 2s through 20s when pissed off/heartbroken/impotent/et cetera, so you are may be dead already. If you somehow survived a purge (Stalin was famous for his purges after one of his many blind dates had gone awry or even slightly awkward) then you may want to focus this new rage into a small war or well, anywhere but directed at you. OR you can get him some ice cream. Everyone loves ice cream when they're down, even evil geniuses. And perhaps lace it with barbiturates.

Love a kitten and kill a martini today.

Friday, 14 March 2014