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They have hidden high.
They have hidden low.
They have disguised themselves and assembled a small arsenal of random weapons from the forgotten corners of Milliways.
They had a brief delay when one of them had a bit of an existential crisis, but it's probably best to ignore that if one doesn't want to be dunked in magma.
They have come out today prepared, nay eager, for a confrontation. One way or another, this will end.
Or maybe they just want some ice cream. It's a toss up, really.
Doctor Evil, black paint smeared under his eyes and a new quasi-futuristic camouflage suit on his person, crawls out of a paneled hole in the wall and looks around the bar before beckoning for Mini Me to follow. His magnificent clone in 1/8 form is similarly clad and drags a heavy knapsack behind him. The Little Guy fixes his beady eyes on Bar and makes a series of complicated gestures at the Doctor.
"What? Go three steps sideways and wed a chicken?"
Doctor Evil purses his lips.
"Yeah. No idea what you're saying."
They have hidden low.
They have disguised themselves and assembled a small arsenal of random weapons from the forgotten corners of Milliways.
They had a brief delay when one of them had a bit of an existential crisis, but it's probably best to ignore that if one doesn't want to be dunked in magma.
They have come out today prepared, nay eager, for a confrontation. One way or another, this will end.
Or maybe they just want some ice cream. It's a toss up, really.
Doctor Evil, black paint smeared under his eyes and a new quasi-futuristic camouflage suit on his person, crawls out of a paneled hole in the wall and looks around the bar before beckoning for Mini Me to follow. His magnificent clone in 1/8 form is similarly clad and drags a heavy knapsack behind him. The Little Guy fixes his beady eyes on Bar and makes a series of complicated gestures at the Doctor.
"What? Go three steps sideways and wed a chicken?"
Doctor Evil purses his lips.
"Yeah. No idea what you're saying."
no subject
Doctor Evil continues to shout, flat on his back with his arms and legs flailing in the air. He arrived in his current position thirty seconds earlier, but even evil geniuses have a hard time coping with certain surprises.
"Ahhhhhhhhh. Ah. Ahhh."
Doctor Evil blinks and wipes his hand over his mouth, surprised to discover it smells distinctly... chocolatey. How odd. Ridiculous, even. He likes his chocolate hot and covered in marshmallows, not hard and caked under his fingernails. Honestly.
A quick glance around reveals walls constructed of rock and some sort of brown, sweet smelling brick. He looks again at his nails and concludes, "I must have been stress eating again. Yeah. Perhaps that infernal Almond Joy, even though I never feel like a nut. No."
(BrrooooooooooooooooOOOOOOO)
"Hmmm."
Beat.
"I should. Yeah. Gotta go."
Doctor Evil leaps up, drops into a fighting crouch, and crab walks back several paces.
Right to the edge of the chocolate borehole to end all chocolate boreholes.
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"Big hole, bro."
"Looks like bad news, bro."
"Bad for him, bro."
"Bro."
no subject
It does look bad.
Because he's evil.
"But... how. This isn't in the script. I am an evil genius!"
Arms windmilling, Doctor Evil regains his balance and chances a glance over his shoulder. There's a ledge running around the left edge of the pit, narrow but passable for an evil genius with regrettably small feet, and a means of egress on the other side. He presses his lips together in smug satisfaction and looks back at first Mini-Me, then the idiots to whom Mini-Me is still attached.
(Someone is going to need their booster shots.)
Now that he has determined this overly elaborate death scenario is escapable -- if not as easily escapable as he prefers -- Doctor Evil decides it is time for his favorite villainous trope: the monologue.
"Riiiight. We meet again. And your little friend, too. Hello, Mini-Me! Hi! You're my special boy! But the rest of you... at last we see each other plain. Yeah. Monsieur, le Bros, you wear a different... no. Actually you wear the same exact thing you always do. So tacky," opines the man with several closets full of the same gray suit. "Now I will break you by talking at you until your brain leaks out your ears and your life is pain and your tracksuits crumble to dust and also you miss snack time. Did you actu-a-lly believe you could destroy me? An evil genius with a freaking evil medical degree? An evil titan, nay, a god, but like the god of itches you can't reach or long lines at an overheated DMV? Kneel before my evil genius! Nothing can stop me now! Tonight I'm going to have myself a real evil time. I feel aliiii iii iiiive. The world. I'll turn it inside out. Yeah. Don't stop me, can't stop me..." He pauses, because musical interludes are really more Austin's thing. "I was also Top Evil Chef, third season, but I don't have room for that on my resume. Yeah. Look it up.
"But no, no. I have you now, my sartorially challenged friends, and the war my evil empire and chain of delicious coffee shops shall wage upon you has just begun! Well. It began when we met, I suppose. Yeah. Then. Anyway, you have been unwitting pawns in my grand design -- I have a powerpoint presentation queued up for later -- and it has landed us here, in this chocolate scented monument to your humiliation and defeat! Or is it my ego? I skimmed that part of the evil curriculum. Yeah. Audited Evil Monologue 101. Doesn't matter."
Sucking in a deep breath, Doctor Evil leans back -- wait, no, bad idea -- and lets out an especially evil laugh. Muahahahahahahahaha!
Why aren't they laughing nervously with him? Don't they know that's how this goes? Hacks.
"As long as there is evil, I shall be the genius of it. As long as I am an evil genius, I will need henchmen. You currently serve an inferior... boss of largely illegal things. But just between you and me, I am a world class employer. Yeah. Henchman #9 at my Volcano Lair even gave me a 'Best Boss' mug. I keep my collection of rare old vintage Happy Meal toys in it. So far it is just the one. Because it was the only one that fit."
Beat.
"Too bad I had to kill Henchman #9 for insubordination. Would you like to hear how he diiiiiied?" Doctor Evil claps his hands together and rubs them, beady eyes widening in an alarming fashion. "Vegetarian Piranha. Really. Riiiiight. Where was I? Queen, tropes, monument to your humiliation and defeat and also maybe my evil ego..... Riiiiight. My grand plan to make you my henchmen being fully realized. This was all a test! You will be spared and we can rule together! Muahahahaha! Except of course I will actually rule the world and you will serve me for less than minimum wage because I am e-vil and a Trump supporter. How about it? No? Don't make me destroy you. We could be evil anti-heroes, just for one day, or like... five. Five is good."
Doctor Evil looks at the Bros. They look back. None of them look too impressed with the narrative work he is doing.
"Without me, you have no chance to survive this not-as-easily-escapable-as-I-would-like death scenario! Can you smell what these rocks are cooking?" He does a dramatic inhale of the steadily increasing chocolate fumes. Thick chocolate drips on his shoulder, but he ignores it because he's a professional. "A fate worse than death is all that awaits, and I, I have been preparing for this for weeks. Months! However long it as been since we met. I don't know. I don't do time. I have minions to keep track of that for me. But you. I know your weaknesses. I know how to turn the tables on you. Well. Maybe just one. Tables are heavy and my arms aren't very strong. Because minions do a lot of stuff for me. I just said that. Keep up.
"It reminds me of the time Austin Powers thought he'd cornered me above a pool of ill-tempered sea bass. Wait. No. Reverse that. But I can feel your own ill-temper. Yeah. Brrrrrr. Go ahead. Strike me down with your hatred. Or your mild disdain. Indifference is also effective. You could prob-ab-ly get to me before you went over too."
He winks at Mini-Me. Oh, how he loves his clone! But he can't get distracted now. Not when he feels like this is the moment he has been waiting for all his evil life.
"No. I lied. We'd all go over. I'd take you with me. Yeah. Maybe I will. You should prepare to die, because I am tired of talking. Didn't do my pre-show warm-up. Here, talk to the fist."
With that he raises a suddenly gloved fist and flexes, shaking it menacingly at them while he twists his mouth around to stretch out his cheeks. Turns out monologuing is hard work.
"Let's see. What's left. Oh, yes. You'll pay for declining my perfectly reasonable offer of death and/or employment, which was my motive all along! Maybe not today, but eventual-ly. Yeah. Maybe like... tomorrow, after we've all had a nap. We'll meet again then. Mini-Me, be a good clone and pencil it in my Day Planner. Oh, and also an evil hot yoga class. Or just hot yoga. They are one and the same, really." He pins the Bros with a Hard Look. "In the immortal words of Bruno Mars, Uptown funk YOU up. Also downtown. Because we are underneath the bar. Yeah."
He begins to inch out on the ledge.
"Anyway, in conclusion, to sum up, you suck. You really suuuuuuuuu...."
Doctor Evil's foot slipped in wet chocolate and he fell before he could finish insulting them one last time. Seconds later, a flood of chocolate explodes into the borehole, flushed away to Landlord knows where.
And he's gone.
no subject
DOCTOR EVIL stands amid the CHOCOLATE. He teeters at the edge of a LEDGE, flailing, yet seemingly immune to the PERIL in which he now finds himself. He MONOLOGUES at length.
Away from the LEDGE, the TRACKSUIT DRACULAS wait and listen. Normally they are men of ACTION, but the TROPE requires their attentiveness.
One of the TRACKSUITS, a low-level thug in BROWN VELOUR, fiddles impatiently with one of his GOLD RINGS.
Somewhere, in the distance, GIRL FROM IPANEMA is playing faintly.
DOCTOR EVIL continues to talk. Until he doesn't. He SCREAMS, chocolate FLOWS, and he is GONE.
It is a good thing that IVAN also owns a DRY CLEANERS because it will be difficult to get the CHOCOLATE out of all this BROWN VELOUR.
The TRACKSUITS look at each other in confusion. Where did DOCTOR EVIL go? How will they get out of here, BRO? Will SANTO lock them in the cells? Is there any more VODKA?
no subject
Unfortunately, watching his beloved Doctor go over the edge of a cliff just so happens to be one of those exceedingly limited number of things.
One second he's watching the ensuing monologue with rapt attention, knowing that his Doctor will stick the landing due entirely to how many times the man practiced in front of the bathroom mirror.
The next...Doctor Evil is slipping out of sight, with only the sound of a soldier being bitten dragged under the waters of a swamp by an opportunistic alligator following in his wake.
The Little Guy's eyes widen his shock.
His steel-trap-esque jaws go slack resulting in his multiple rows of razor sharp teeth to rend and tear at the velour pants of the man he'd been recently gnawing on.
Ultimately he falls to the ground in a small child sized heap.
"........oompa."