If good never sleeps, then evil is well-rested, carefully planning how to mess with the world order. But you can rest in different ways, can't you? Are you familiar with the concept of "active recreation"? Good. How about "Villainous Active Recreation"?
For a couple of weeks, I immersed myself in research and inventions. I remember that Drakken from the cartoon had some problems with originality or imagination, and therefore, his personal inventions were quite few. He usually stole and modified something. However, many villains are obsessed with their uniqueness. Their image. And I am no exception.
It's actually hard to understand who among us is Mikhail and who is Drew Theodore P. Lipsky. The mind is a crazy difficult thing. I-Mikhail brought life experience, tastes, and cynicism from that world. I-Drakken brought memories, knowledge, and ideas.
So, returning to inventions, I saw nothing wrong with stealing and upgrading something. But I preferred to create something of my own. It's even hard to describe the delight I felt from the very possibility of simply creating. And when I saw the result... It seemed I was a child again, and all roads were open to me, with so much unknown and new ahead. Thus, the Freezenator was born. Yes, the originality of the names is still a problem. I had to sign up for a course on "Creating Original and Unusual Names for Your Inventions," which was taught by a certain "Cheshire Cat." And no, not the character from Lewis Carroll. He was one of those scientists who experimented on themselves. Once he miscalculated and instead of a temporary reversal, he got stuck in the body of a cat forever. However, he doesn't complain; on the contrary, he smiles mysteriously at all the teasing (I can't tell you how I understood that the cat was smiling) and says something about "nine lives." And yes, the Cheshire Cat can talk. He uses a special collar for translation from cat-speak. True, he strongly advises against putting it on ordinary felines. He says you might suddenly learn a lot about yourself.
So, the Freezenator... Damn, I really need to do something about this. Because if I name a couple more inventions with the ending "-nator" or "-inator," a teal platypus in a fedora might come to me. And he never suffered from incompetence. The Freezenator was born while studying the Shrinkenator... I guess that was the sound of a hand meeting a face performed by Shego? Did I say that out loud? Shego, get back to work, or whatever it is you do! And don't eavesdrop. So, in the process of disassembly, I realized that emitters are one of the best things I can make. Damn it, I could put together a heat gun almost from scratch. But I didn't want to cook anyone alive. So I had to get clever with negative temperatures. No, making a freezing ray was simple. How do you make it freeze everything from the outside, putting the target in a state of suspended animation? I didn't know either. And the hero had already arrived. Of course, I got by by freezing water, but then I had to refine it. At least now I can shoot with both hands.
True, when I tried, I got carried away again...
***
It was another day after the master and mistress's trip to the League's main office. Norman, as usual, was cooking. He never expected that anyone would hire an old man with amnesia and a lot of old injuries. No, he wouldn't have been left completely without work. But what do you do when you just wake up in a hospital, and the unfamiliar people around you claim that you are their grandfather? And the doctor confirms the amnesia. It's as if you were just born, and people already want something from you. But his family really helped Norman get back on his feet. And a small part of his memories returned. And he was looking for a more profitable job to pay for his grandchildren's and great-grandchildren's college tuition. The League paid very well, too well. In the past, before his amnesia, he was somehow connected to the criminal world. And as soon as he started training, his old reflexes returned, and muscle memory sometimes preceded any other actions.
But working for the League came with danger. He was ready for it. As he was to serve a new master. True, no one really needed him. Among the established villains, everyone already had trusted associates or trained people. The newcomers didn't want to risk it with an old man. However, one was found. Dr. Lipsky welcomed him very warmly. And even told him to hide when meeting heroes. Or: "pretend to be a simple butler that I stole and am keeping here," - as the new master said. He entrusted him with the entire base's household, and the old man had no intention of letting him down. And Dr. Lipsky trusted him. He could come to him for advice, and sometimes he would hide from the mistress. For some reason, he would start to flinch at the word "shopping" after their recent trip.
The mistress was also a good person. Despite her alienated appearance, demonstrative coldness toward everything, and barbs released on any occasion and none, she probably worried more than anyone. Now, with the master holed up in the lab, she personally intimidated her subordinates, checking their work. And even he, the second trusted person, could get it. Because: "The Doctor tries so hard, and you, bums, disgrace his brilliant name with your inaction." Although a trusting relationship had still formed between them. Miss Shego could also visit the old butler for advice or help. Mainly because she didn't want to seem ignorant or incompetent in front of the master.
He smiled into his thick mustache, stirring the soup in the pot. He could see from the outside that the Main Villain and his Treacherous Assistant were not indifferent to each other. They just didn't understand it yet, or were afraid to start. Perhaps the old butler should help them.
— Norman?! Are you there? Open up! Quickly! — Miss Shego's voice suddenly came from behind the door. Norman was very surprised, but he quickly opened the door, letting the guest into the kitchen.
— There... there! — She was trying to catch her breath.
— Is something wrong, mistress? — And if the master didn't like such an address, his faithful assistant would immediately straighten up importantly and try to live up to it, which greatly amused Norman.
— Drakken's gone crazy again! He's running around with two emitters and firing at everything he sees! He's already shrunk and frozen his entire lab! — Her voice held genuine confusion about what to do. She would have quickly knocked out anyone else, but certainly not the master.
Norman couldn't stop being amazed by everything that happened in this Tower of Evil. Just when you thought you were used to it, something new would stun you. However, the secret to the old butler's calmness was one cigarette with cannabis in the morning, right before he started work.
— Hmm... is that so? — He thoughtfully stroked his long mustache. He admitted, he loved doing that, especially at times like this. It made him feel like a very wise and respected elder, — We'll see, mistress. I think I had something for this case.
Shego watched the butler with an interested look. He walked to the nearest pantry and pulled out a suitcase with the inscription: "Unseal only in case of a severe fit of genius madness by Me!", - the master was incredibly far-sighted and cautious. It inspired respect. By the way, there were such kits in pantries on all levels of the tower. But only the inhabitants of the tower knew how to use this set correctly. So even if the heroes find these stashes, they won't be able to do anything without the proper knowledge. He returned to the kitchen with the case, unsealed it, and began to pull out the parts of some weapon right in front of the surprised mistress. Soon the weapon was assembled, and he fumbled his finger along the walls of the case in search of a hidden niche. With a quiet click, he pulled out a small ampoule, the contents of which he poured over the projectiles.
— Here, mistress. The instructions, written by the master, say: "Give yourself a safari," — he read the note left behind with a completely unperturbed face, handing the guest a tranquilizer rifle. Well, it seemed he would soon have to use another magical cigarette during the day.
Miss Shego took the rifle, nodded thoughtfully, and walked out of the kitchen with a wooden gait. Norman stroked his mustache again and returned to making lunch. Perhaps he should prepare a painkiller for the master. He had no doubts about the mistress's abilities. After all, she was exceptionally nimble, flexible, and quick.
***
— Shego, just let me go! I won't do it again, probably! — I protested. In response, my assistant gave me an extremely skeptical look and shook her head negatively.
— No, Drakken. You need to rest. Because I have no desire to run after you again with a tranquilizer rifle. And I want even less for you to lose the last of your sanity. So calm down and enjoy the movie! — Shego concluded weightily, turning to the screen.
Sometimes my passionate nature gets the better of me. To be honest, I don't control it well. And I don't really intend to. In such a state, I can cause a lot of chaos, but it's very unlikely I'll cause any real harm. And if something like that does happen, I have the power to pull myself together.
And now I got carried away with Macedonian-style shooting from my devices. Now I'm lying tied up in a green, black-checkered blanket with string. We were currently in Shego's living room. I must say, she went to a lot of trouble to decorate her floor. And not everything here was a combination of black and green tones or any of their other shades. A soft, large corner sofa, a terry cloth rug, a table made of real bog oak, a full-wall TV, an obviously expensive audio system — in general, everything here created a cozy atmosphere.
By the way, I'm still amazed by the peculiarities of this world. It's the two thousands, and TV screens are already flat. At the same time, phones from the nineties haven't advanced much. You can often find all sorts of neutron collectors, laser drills, etc., among the local scientists. And that's not even mentioning the abundance of mad geniuses, illegal experimenters, and others.
Shego was pouting resentfully and pointedly not looking at me. She's really worried. There was some movie on the screen. By the way, that's also an interesting point. Many creative personalities famous in our world were also born here, but only a part of their works saw the light of day. I was especially saddened by the absence of Professor Tolkien's masterpiece. Because no one understood why I called our tower "Barad-dûr." Maybe I should make a similar Eye and cover everything with spikes? Why not? It looked incredibly sinister! But I should apologize to my assistant anyway.
— I'm sorry, Shego. You're right, — she nodded, accepting my apology, but still looked sullen. What a manipulator! — How about Apology Pancakes?
— Fine, — she agreed majestically, although I knew she really wanted them. In fact, she liked all sweets in general, but for some reason she liked my pancakes the most. True, no one was in a hurry to untie me. Well, I'll humbly watch the movie.
***
— What time is it, Norman? — I asked the butler, with my back to him.
— Time to commit Evil, master, — came from behind. I specially made him a clock where all the numbers were replaced with words so beloved to a black heart. Yes, I've started to get into it. That's what corporate solidarity means! Now I ask Norman on every occasion. Shego, it seems, has come to terms with it.
— Excellent! So, my faithful assistants, today we're going to host a charity event! — I decided to dedicate them to my insidious plans. I had given them a lot of instructions, and now it was time to explain why.
For the last week after my fit, I tried not to get too carried away with research. However, I did manage to do something. I finished the anti-grav, and now it could freely move an object in space. And recently, I finished building the air vehicle itself. I decided that Drakken's flying saucer was too mundane. So I made a flying Brain. Yes, our means of air transportation looked like a cybernetic brain. The plan was to add a lot of functions to it, but for now, I only managed with flight. Calibration and tuning still ate up a lot of time.
— And we'll take all the fat cats hostage? — Shego asked admiringly, not even suspecting how truly insidious I was.
— No, my faithful assistant. We will indeed host a charity event, — they looked at me like a lunatic again, — we just won't specify what for!
I saw understanding in her eyes. But I'm not sure she understood my plan completely. And it was grand!
By the way, about the invited guests. When I was hacking the Club's databases... I meant, the Organization of Heroes, I left myself a loophole. Of course, after my hack, they were concerned with improving their security, and it was quite problematic for me to influence them from the inside. However, I could freely study any available information and remain unnoticed. So, almost all the guests invited to our villainous party are sponsors or investors of the heroes. No joke, they were literally profiting from them. Of course, there were also idealistic "fighters against evil with a wallet." But if you beat a thief with a wallet, he will eventually take it away!
Not to say that the scale of our preparations was grandiose, but there were many nuances that required my or Shego's attention. Renting the hall, musicians, decorations, dishes and their serving — everything had to be of a high standard. And no one should suspect anything until the very end!
***
This evening, Shego and I shone. I refused to leave everything to an incompetent host. And my assistant wanted to see the faces of the rich people who realized they had been conned, from the front row. Norman was not involved publicly, so I wasn't particularly worried about him.
So what's happening? Oh, just a charity event to support endangered species from the Red Book. Only no one was advertising that it was being held under the patronage of the League. Shego and I even had to put on makeup. I was covered from head to toe in white to cover the unusual color of my skin. My Right Hand, on the other hand, darkened her skin, either with a self-tanner or she really went to a tanning salon for it. I wore a classic tuxedo, custom-made by an old vampire. Shego, with noticeable aversion and displeasure, changed her usual color scheme to blue. Yes, she wore lenses that perfectly harmonized with the dress. Shego was one of those people who could spontaneously dress beautifully.
The fat cats spent the whole evening socializing, building bridges, strengthening or destroying connections. I'm willing to bet that everyone felt in control. Such "masters" were especially visible by the amounts generously written for charity. Oh, it was like a competition. It was necessary to show the surrounding riffraff their solvency and generosity. And in no way less than other philanthropists.
— Ladies and gentlemen! Words cannot express how happy I am to see such generosity! Unfortunately, our meeting is coming to an end, — I finally began my speech. The crowd immediately stirred and began to listen carefully. I looked at the conductor in the orchestra pit and nodded to him, giving a signal. Returning my gaze to the crowd, I began to pull out wads from my cheeks in front of everyone, and then wipe my face with a damp towel given to me by Shego. When the unmasking was over, I grinned at the gasping crowd with all my teeth, — Nor can words express my sorrow for human folly. Due to human negligence, the bacterium Yersinia pestis, better known as the causative agent of the bubonic plague, is in danger of extinction! But! Thanks to your generosity and your donations, the Fund for the Preservation of Endangered Strains will be able to modify the poor thing. Alas, in its current form, it is not very viable. But it will return new, updated, improved!
The hall was silent. Shego was too. The musicians, as agreed, played more and more foreboding music during my speech to enhance the effect. Finally, my assistant came to her senses and gave me SUCH an admiring look.
— Well... it's time for us to say goodbye! Fortunately, funds are non-refundable. And so that you don't freeze the transfers of funds from the bank with the checks you issued, I will freeze you, — I sharply pulled out the Freezenator and with a continuous beam traced the entire crowd, turning them into ice blocks. It's nothing, they'll stand there for about four hours, then they'll thaw. The worst thing that awaits them is a light cold. I waved goodbye to the musicians, who received a solid fee, and, urged on by Shego, trudged to the eastern wall. Which, a couple of minutes later, was broken by a giant flying brain that flew into it, — All the worst!
We were flying away to cash the checks. Cursed lines at banks. Now I understand why, out of all the villains, I'm the only one who goes to them civilly. The others prefer to rob them immediately. Or, as I call it, withdrawing cash without documents, registration, or a line. But this method has a lot of advantages! And the main one is the ability to withdraw money from any bank, regardless of the bank's affiliation with a particular network.
***
At the Organization of Heroes, there had been chaos for a month now. The new villain was monstrously effective. And to his credit, he knew how to outsmart his opponents. Heroes were now accustomed to a deluge of villains planning to conquer or destroy the world. But because of their pride or simply their unwillingness to share their unique developments, you could find a self-destruct button almost everywhere. And many devices were designed so that even the dumbest minions could figure out how to operate them. Usually, just an "on" and "off" button.
The new Evil Genius, on the other hand, was distinguished by special treachery. You couldn't trust anything. He could, following villainous etiquette, inform a captured hero of his plan, while preparing for another blow. Or his entire plan could turn out to be a lie. As was the case recently, for example. Is it worth mentioning what forces and money were involved to find this very Fund for the Preservation of Endangered Strains? And for what?! All they managed to find was some completely decrepit old man who worked in a shed. And he wasn't restoring the plague at all, but chlamydia. Because all the girls around were harlots who wanted to seduce his grandson.
An adequate response was urgently needed, but the Organization was having serious difficulties with this. Finding a way to deal with Drakken was a real challenge. One that they intended to solve.