Saturday, March 22, 2014

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:

HAPPY PEOPLE FUCKING SUCK.

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.
EVIL SOCIETY MGMT xo
By: Daniel Smallegange

Friday, March 14, 2014

Desert Life


Comic by Dan Smallegange

Sunday, February 23, 2014

'The Nexus Place: Book One' by Daniel Smallegange Released on Kindle & Itunes

Four individuals from different worlds face certain death. A gunfighter is cornered after being hunted by a band of vicious warriors. An assassin is to be sacrificed via electric crucifixion. A swordsmen fights to the death in an arena of futuristic blood sport. And a teenager from our world is pushed by a serial killer under a speeding car. All four are saved at the instant before death in a whiff of red mist. When they awake they find themselves in the realm of the techno-mage Kyrinn, and find also there is a price for his intervention. They have been rescued only to be sent on a suicidal mission to save his only heir from an unknown foe in a terrible world made up of stolen lands. Either agree to the techno-mage's terms or be returned to the exact moment before their deaths. With no other choice the four strangers accept, but first they must go to Alex's great city where the only known portal to the secret realm exists, itself a terrifying deathtrap, and this is just the beginning.

Only $5.99 Please pass this on if you think it's interesting. Thanks for your support! Coming soon to I-Book and Nook.



Thursday, February 6, 2014

Troubling Times

Troubling times and a lack of cause
This coupled with
Too much effect
And the miseries that accompany such things
Troubling times and
The disconcerting results of love
Unrequited
Trains rushing headlong at
Improbable speeds
Rushing us towards unhappy results
The wisdom of this clearly
Un-absolute

Lines of calculation
Undeniable in the offset
Too many tests
Too many white coats
Prodding and needling
The uncontrollable shaking of
Extremities
Lie low and dig yourself deep into
Your own malcontent
Bury your head in the sediment and only then
Open your eyes so that you may
Sleep without fear

Troubling climes and a snowball effect
Rings through the valleys of
Your sliding doubt
Un-sureties
Insincerities
Brings your heart to irregular
Rhythms and causes your dance to be
Stilted and applauded only by
The disciples of Vitus
Troubling times and a lack of
Braces and mounts on which
To grasp
By: Daniel Smallegange

Friday, January 24, 2014

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

'Oh great zen master, so wise and learned. I have traveled many thousands of miles and endeared great hardship to seek out your wisdom. May I approach?'
 

'Yes, my son, come closer. I am old and wise, but my vision grows poor and my hearing fails.'
 

'Master, I humbly beg your attention.'
 

'You, who have braved such hardship, have earned the right to approach and ask but one question, and only one.'
 

'My question is this, oh wise one: What is the best passive thing a person may do with one's life.'
 

'Cheer against Manchester United, of course. Now get on out, the games about to start.'
By: Daniel Smallegange

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Matter of Taste

Cider's too sweet
I am sweet enough
With my tooth rotting grins
With my lackadaisical sins
I will deliver more sweetness with my
Rust bent razor blade an' pipe
Than all the raised thighs in the dance hall
Sweet as those may be

Whisky's too  golden
I am golden skinned too much
With my jaundiced shins
With my yellow stained sins
I will shed off more gold with
My rough hewn song
Than all the trumpets in ancient Rome
Sweet sounding as they were said to be

Lager is too sharp
My knives are sharp enough
With my shimmering scars
With my searing desires
I'll cut your debate in twain
I'll show you more sharp play
Than all the cheats in Rosedale
As deft a touch they claim to be

Vodka's too transparent
I am more opaque
With my lungs filled black with tar
Malcontent enough by far
A toast to the death of the Tsar
I'll down more carnage than
All the Cossacks could swill
Hard wroth riders though they be

I should settle then for water
But rain belongs in the gutter
And it brings too much discourse
Gives me lack of recourse
Fills my head with ill healing
Losses of income and teeth and meaning
Sends everything running
Running down the drain

Which brings me to heady wine
Red dark or clean white
Made from grapes divine
Stain my lips bloody
Make me inviolate
Make me your friend and brother
Or deepest darkest lover
Oh wine my heart belongs to thee
By: Daniel Smallegange