Jeff Wysaski
Ah, well if it isn’t the second and third most maniacal evil geniuses on the planet! Massive Brain. Intellibot. I welcome you to my secret mountain lair! Did you have any trouble finding the place? Please say YES! It is supposed to be a SECRET mountain lair, after all.
What’s that? Google Maps!? The address of my SECRET mountain lair is on Google Maps!? How could they have found Megalomaniac Avenue already!? It’s not even paved yet…and the entrance is obstructed by that giant hologram image of a rockslide!
No matter, I will deal with the simpletons at Google in due time. For now, let me show you around the place. Massive Brain, I think you’ll find it even more technologically advanced than your hidden castle in the sky. And Intellibot, well, I think it’s safe to say your “subterranean lair,” I mean MOTHER’S BASEMENT, just can’t compete with the sheer demented genius of my new dwelling!
Right in here is my workshop – the place where I map out all my evil plans and piece together my weapons of destruction. Everything an evil genius could possibly ever need is right here in this room – plutonium for creating nuclear weapons, full-body robot suits for heavy lifting, human torsos for target practice. Oh! And a ping-pong table over there in the corner. For relaxing.
I’m sure you can guess from the cries for help that my torture chamber is right through here. As you can see from all the boxes, I’m still in the process of unpacking. But don’t worry, the human slaves are just fine. I made sure to poke plenty of air holes in the cardboard. After, all, you know how much I HATE tracking down new human specimens. All that chloraform. And if they run, then you have to drag them back to the truck. No thanks!
Over here is the garage. I’ve divided the vehicles into groups based on type – helicopters and hovercrafts to your right, land tanks and invisi-cars to your right, and straight ahead, well, that’s the kayak.
I’m not much for sea travel – I can’t swim after all.
In here is the media room with big screen TV. Netflix just sent me Ghosts of Girlfriends Past. We’ll watch it later.
Here’s my guest room. Master Disaster is staying here at the moment. He and his wife have been going through a rough – oh, what the? DAMN IT MASTER DISASTER! I told you to put your dirty underwear in the clothes hamper three times already! My guests don’t want to see this!
Oh, don’t give me that! Do I need to kick you out!? Tricera-Bot has just been begging to move in – and he said he’d pay rent!
Sorry about that friends. Let’s move on. Over here is the vacuum chamber where I regenerate my youth each night.
And finally, the piece de resistance, in a room all its own – THE DEATH ORB!
OH GOD DAMN IT! The death orb’s been stolen! Master Disaster, did you leave the back door unlocked again!? You did, didn’t you? God damn it!! Do you know how many human souls it takes to build a freaking death orb!? I swear, every time I get close to world domination, you come along and screw it up somehow. I don’t even need a superhero arch nemesis. I HAVE YOU!
Alright guys, that’s it, tours over. I hope you liked the place, but now I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We’ll watch Ghosts of Girlfriends Past another time. I guess I’m going to be up all night luring humans into my ’88 Dodge Caravan – some way to spend a Friday evening. THANKS A LOT MASTER DISASTER!
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