#i know for a fact that lex pays off people to vote for him to make sure he atleast nominated

[stonecoldaries]

where are their awards 🤨

[theliterateape]

We Killed Jason Todd

By Matt Markman

In 1988 my friends and I killed a kid.

He was just a boy really. We had help it wasn’t just me and my pals. there were adults involved, lots of them. I mean we were young we were just thirteen and really couldn’t comprehend the ramification of our actions, the adults knew what they were doing. I’m painting it to sound way more sinister than it was, and in today’s society, wouldn’t trend on Twitter but maybe in the ’80s, it was probably considered quite ominous.

To set your mind at ease, it was Jason Todd. You know, Batman's sidekick, The Boy Wonder, Robin—well, the second Robin anyways. And I helped kill him.

I was big into comic books but my favorite was, The Dark Knight, The Caped Crusader, The Batman… He donned the best costume, he had all the money and was the most intelligent of all the superheroes. That last trait right there, the fact that he was considered a superhero and he had no actual super powers made him cooler than the other side of the pillow. You know how The Big Bang Theory has convinced the world it’s an Emmy-winning sitcom worth watching? I think it’s the fact that Batman was someone any one of us could actually be. Sure we needed to start with a base coat of genius followed by a splash of handsome billionaire playboy then train overseas in martial arts for several years, but if you had those things you, too, could be a vigilante. You ask me today and I'd stand by the fact that Batman would beat Superman in a fight, say ten out of ten times. This is not debatable because super beings from another planet are not real.

My favorite thing about Batman, though, is his ability to balance out good and evil. He spawned one of the greatest comic book villains and fictional characters ever created, The Joker. They have tried and tried again but in my opinion never got close to the Clown Prince of Crime—maybe Negan from The Walking Dead, he's pretty ruthless. The Joker is what would happen if a stand-up comedian became a criminal mastermind, so basically the plot of the 2019 film Joker.

My love for Joker made sense because growing up I was always more into the bad guys than the good guys. Watching and playing with G.I.Joe, I was always on the side of Cobra Commander, the twins Tomax and Xamot, and Zartan because they were always more glamorous and eye-catching than the boring ass Joes. Just once, I’d like that “knowing is half the battle” part at the end of the cartoon to have been Storm Shadow giving us kids a tip on how to fuck up Shipwreck and his stupid Parrot. Megatron, Skeletor, Shredder, Mumm-ra…

The list goes on, but the antagonists always resonated with me. they had a much better and more intriguing agenda than the good guys did. I know that wasn't the purpose, we were supposed to cheer on the good guys, like the idea of saving the world and all, but the mayhem… It’s like Alfred Pennyworth said, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” It’s odd because the bad guys in my life were real, the bullies and I didn't like them at all. They tormented me daily unprovoked because I was short and had big ears. Perhaps my love for the dark side stemmed for my desire to be on that side because in real life there was no Superman swooping in to rescue me from the clutches of Lex Luthor. 

There were two sides, and good had a lack of champions looking out for the weaker, smaller good guys. The bad guys in my neighborhood, well, they were real and never really foiled and more importantly, they always got the girl in the end. Fuck the good guys!

My admiration for evildoers achieving their agenda was tested in 1988, Batman was running a four-part series called A Death in the Family. It was your typical Batman arc. Somehow, The Joker was going to get the upper hand on The World’s Greatest Detective only to be bested in the end by Batman. But this time, the third comic decided to do something nobody had never seen in the industry. The writers were going to give the fans the opportunity to decide where they were going to go with the story, only it was an option between two different roads, one quite unconventional. Apparently a few years earlier, one of the writers, Dennis O'Neil, had seen a sketch they did on SNL where Eddie Murphy held up a Lobster—Larry the Lobster—and was asking viewers to decide whether Larry was boiled and eaten or was to be set free. The choices were offered in the form of two phone numbers both costing fifty cents a call. One number was a vote for him to be freed and the other number was a vote for Larry to be murdered, smothered in butter, and devoured by Axel Foley. Ultimately, after nearly 500,000 calls, the people voted for Larry the lovable lobster to be pardoned with a 12,000 call margin. The popularity of this bit intrigued O'Neil and A few years later he decided to implement it in his Death in The Family storyline.

In the third book, The Joker had taken Batman's sidekick, the Boy Wonder, hostage. He’d beaten him bloody with a crowbar leaving a cliffhanger to be wrapped up in the fourth book. The last page of the comic was full page and at the top read in true ’80s Do the Right Thing fashion: “Robin will die because The Joker wants revenge, but you can prevent it with a telephone call!” They even phrased it to steer you down the hero’s path, like you can literally be Batman with one phone call. Underneath the imploring verbiage were two numbers, dial one number; The Joker fails and Robin lives, Batman would once somehow saves the day. However, call this other number and The Joker succeeds and Robin dies. Gruesomely.

Wow! They were going to let the fans decide the fate of Robin, really this was one of my earliest introductions to a reality voting competition type show. In my opinion, it was a bad idea. Robin was always the worst. Go back and read through an adventure or two involving Jason Todd and tell me he wasn't always whiney and bellyaching. He was never going to be iconic or cool like Bruce Wayne or even his predecessor Dick Grayson—the first Robin. See, Dick got pissed off, decided he was tired of being in Batman's shadow, ditched the Robin costume, threw on a black blue and gold costume, moved to another city and became Nightwing. Dick was a go getter, ambitious. Grayson’s Robin was a winner, Todd's Robin was an irritating little bitch; he was not an innocent lobster.

I went to my mother and asked if I could make a call that was going to cost just fifty cents and I would pay her back or she could just take it out of my allowance. She wanted to know what it was for and mostly wanted to confirm it wasn't for an adult sex line, which costs more than fifty cents a minute, but that’s a different story. It was nothing as tawdry as phontercourse, I just wanted to help murder an annoying teenage sidekick. My mother response was “Oh, yeah, that’s fine.”

I think after it was exposed that it wasn't phone sex anything else I said went in one ear and out the other, surely she didn't think I was actually voting for a plucky comic book sidepiece to be murdered by The Joker. So that’s what I did. I cast my vote along with a majority of DC comic book fans that shared my detest for the boy wonder. Ten thousand votes were recorded with a narrow margin going to Robin dying. I think the writers never suspected that fans would go that route.

O’Neal himself voted for Robin’s stay of execution. A man of his word, Batman issue #429 was released and Robin was killed by The Joker in an explosion and we were to blame for it. Sad to say but you give a bunch of comic book nerds the power I think it would go bad every time. That day we were all proud to be The Joker's henchmen. I felt like a soldier at the end of Star Wars cheering madly while The Joker received his metal shouting, “I helped that happen!”

So many shows these days embrace our fascination with the anti-hero with the success of The Sopranos, The Shield, Breaking Bad, hell Narcos had me rooting for Pablo Escobar—Pablo fucking Escobar. I wouldn't say I was a bad person growing up. Quite the contrary, I was a shy nerd with no power to do anything but pick my books up after they were smacked to the ground. What I’m saying is don't give me the power to make important life or death decisions with your franchise because myself and the other dorks will have the bodies of Orko, Snarf, and Jimmy Olson lying in a shallow grave, just tell me what number to dial… or text.

Matt started performing standup comedy in 2004 in Las Vegas and is now a regular at every major comedy club on the Las Vegas strip. He released his first comedy album in 2016 titled Uncut available on iTunes. More about Matt and his upcoming appearances can be found on MattMarkman.com.

[dystopian-penguin]

Regicide is a two-person job - Chapter one

[Has anyone asked for a mashup between an Royalty AU and a Boarding School AU? No? Well I did one anyway.

While I actually know where I’m going with this (which is rare for writers) I am not so sure if I’m gonna go anywhere with this at all (which is decidedly more common for writers). Either way, here’s an intro/sneak-peak into an idea that has been sitting in my folder for way too long.]

~~

Lena Luthor was not having a good day.

It would have been unnecessarily overdramatic to say it had cracked even her Top 10 Worst Days, but then again, the full repercussions of it hadn’t made themselves fully known yet. Although, she supposed being forced to move halfway across the globe fit the “life-changing repercussions” category, and Lena had no possible method to ever measure all of those.

It didn’t matter. She was going to endure the next two years of her life by making everyone else’s a living hell, as she had always done. Besides, she doubted her antics would make her last very long in one of the most well secured campuses in the world, and when she showed up back home in a couple of months after getting (very politely) expelled it would be her turn to laugh in Lilian’s face. And her stepmother wouldn’t even be able to fully act on her rage without tipping off any investors that the Luthors were many orders of magnitude bellow “less than perfect” as a family.

Lena stretched lazily and put her feet on the table, sparing a passing glance at the picturesque snow-covered mountain ranges passing by thousands of feet bellow her. Deciding that she needed a well-rested mind in order to face the many small battles that were sure to occur throughout the day, she picked up her phone to change to a more sleep-friendly playlist. As she muted her music to scroll through her options, she heard Lilian and Lex’s hushed tones coming from the front of the jet.

“…what my contacts say about her”.

Lilian clicked her tongue at that at that. “I hardly think a girl with that much security actually lives up to these rumors. Maybe they’re trying for a more approachable thought-the-grapevines PR strategy,” she answered.

“She does fit the ditzy dumb blonde type, doesn’t she?” Lex said.

Lilian laughed at that. The type of laughter only Lex was ever really allowed to witness. Lena continued through the motions of picking a sleeping playlist and making herself comfortable enough for a nap, feeling slightly bad for whoever was the focus on their conversation. Her brother and Lilian could be quite vicious about their business partners when they were left alone to gossip, and not exactly fully committed to facts. Not that Lena gave a fuck of course. She had stirred up quite a few nasty rumors about her peers herself when bored.

“That will certainly come in handy for the company in a few years’ time, should it be true,” her bother continued. “Although I do personally believe a rebellious youth would have been even better to our interests than an idiotic leader. Either way, Lena dearest appears to be yet one more problem for the Kryptonian Secret Service now”.

Wait, what?

Lena continued to act as if her earbuds hadn’t been muted and curled on herself as if asleep. It had been bad enough to pull her out of her previous boarding school and haul her ass across the globe overnight and without warning. Had Lilian and Lex really concocted even more unpleasant surprises for her day?

What was she thinking, of course they had.

“Oh, I am sure she will be a problem either way, no matter what the other girl really is like” Lilian dismissed. There was a pause, and Lena heard the clink of a teacup against its plate. “Might I enquire what makes you so keen on believing that particular source this time?”

“For the same reasons you picked this particular academy to exile her to, mother dear”.

Another pause, longer this time, then Lilian answered in a tone of subdued irritation.

“So, he has contacted you as well. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Oh, I can. What a stupid individual that was. But no matter, it has been dealt with,” Lex chuckled. “Unless you had any other pending business with him?”

Oh great, thought Lena. She was now once privy to the answers to what is without a doubt yet another “mysterious missing person case” that would make its rounds on Youtube conspiracy videos in a few years. If she didn’t know any better, she would think her brother planned his assassinations with the narrative of those videos already in mind.

And her family wondered why she was half-buzzed all the time.

Lilian must have made a dismissive hand gesture because Lex continued, “Good then, so we can stop these charades and discuss what we actually need to. Mother, I must admit, as much as the rest of this ordeal has been perversely well crafted, I believe sending her directly to that room might be a liability.”

“Oh please. Princess Kara might be a pretty face, but even Lena isn’t that stupid.”

Had Lena’s chair been facing them her ruse would have been over at that moment, as her eyes went wide. Just what on Earth were these two planning now? Lex’s black-market deals and criminal business practices were one thing. Every big corporation out in their happy little capitalistic dystopian society was guilty of that, no matter how much they liked to give flak to the Luthors exclusively. “That’s just good business,” as Lionel used to say.

But toying with Kryptonian royalty was way above even Lex’s repertoire, especially after their last… security breach, so to speak. Had her brother really grown as arrogant as to think he could walk in the same circles as a family thousands of years old and come out unscathed? That level of hubris spoke of Lillian’s intelligence, but her brother…

From a logical standpoint, Lena knew she would have to run into Princess Kara at some point during her (hopefully brief) stay in that blasted Royal Academy. The girl would have to be undoubtedly the hottest shit in that school, being the first in line to an empire and all. Lena also expected to be asked for some sort of report on her for Lex, so it’s not like she had exactly been planning on ignoring her existence entirely, as much as the prissy playboy types exhausted her to no end.

Okay, if Lena was being completely honest with herself, even she was curious about what the princess was really like.

She had met all kinds of celebrities and dignitaries in her short 16 years of life, but she had never met anyone from the only true royalty left in the world. And Lena knew even Lex had met the late King Zor-El only once, and as a child.

It was a silly guilty pleasure, but one that she was certain she wasn’t alone in. There was just something about the Kryptonian royalty in particular that made them seem like truly god-chosen and regal, and the whole world followed them like their own private novela. Rationally, Lena knew that “something” was, simply put, the best motherfucking public relations company in the world. One that not even the Luthors had enough money or sway to buy. She knew because they had tried. But there was still some air of magic and old-world nostalgia surrounding the very small family, and as much as it killed Lena to admit, she was as susceptible to that trap as the general public.

Even the super-rich are raised on Disney princess movies, after all.

Lena was pulled out of her reverie by Lex openly laughing and chastised herself for becoming so easily distracted at the mere mention of Princess Kara.

“Why, mother, that must have been the biggest compliment I’ve ever seen you pay her. I wasn’t referring to Lena’s dalliances, however”.

“Oh? Weren’t you?” Lilian countered with fake interest. There were more noises from the expensive porcelain set before he answered.

“Ok maybe I was a little bit,” he said bashfully, in a tone betraying just a sliver of vulnerability, like a little kid being caught with the cookie jar. A tone that Lena as a child used to think it was just for her. “But regardless,” he continued, “putting Lena in her room is simply too close. Even for whatever torture you have planned for her-“

“And here was I thinking I had made pretty obvious that sharing a room was part of her punishment,” Lilian interrupted.

Oh.

Oh, what the flying fuck?

Lena was being forced into a sharing a bedroom? Oh, that shit was low, so low. Even for Lilian.

“It is simply too close, mother” Lex repeated incisively, before Lena could focus into her seething rage any further. “She is to be there simply to observe and report, nothing else. Engaging directly with Kryptonian royalty is a risk we can’t afford to take, not with Lena of all people at the helm of the matter.”

Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Lex.

“Well I beg to differ, darling. With the level of security and scrutiny that room is subjected to, there will be absolutely nothing Lena will get past us this time.”

“And therein lies the risk, mother. The KSS simply cannot be allowed this close to Lena. It is bad enough to need a background check to just enter the grounds of the damn school.”

“I admit the KSS might be a bit of an… overkill to our problem-”

“To your problem. I could not care less what Lena gets herself into, and especially not in such an easily bribable school.”

Lena heard Lilian open her mouth as to reply, but what followed were a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, Lex. Don’t tell me this is about you trying to protect her?” she finally said.

There was a muted silence, and Lena tried to keep her heart in a normal rhythm. Lex hadn’t really given much of a fuck about her for a few years now, there was no use getting her hopes up that he had ever been the brother he acted like when they were kids.

“Yes,” he answered more curtly than he usually was with his mother. Lilian must have had a similar expression of utter disbelief as Lena, because Lex felt the need to continue. “There are… details of this that you are not aware of, mother, no matter how much you believe to have bribed that man. But a private jet, of all places, is not the right setting for this discussion, yes?”

There were more clinks that sounded way rougher than their expensive 17th century porcelain should be handled like, and Lena was suddenly reminded of her brother’s secret (and completely pathetic, considering the family’s business) fear of planes. She wished she could say her heart didn’t feel a bit tighter with that knowledge resurfacing in her brain, but Lena was quite pathetic herself. Especially when she came to Lex.

Her brother’s expression must have put an end to the discussion, because Lena waited completely still for a long time but there had been no more words from either of them. But that suited her just the same. Deciding to give her fury towards Lillian proper attention on a later time, she decided to focus on the major bits of information she was able to acquire. Whatever it was this family had been planning to put her through this time, at least now she had an inkling of what it was. And a name. And with that name came a lead, and the very rare possibility of actually preparing herself psychologically to one of Lilian’s sadistic decisions over her life. Lena checked the time on her phone and found out she had roughly three hours for that. Four, if she counted the car ride between the private airstrip and the school.

She would need to google the shit out of Kara Zor-El.

[crazyfreckledginger]

The Girl’s Pack ~ Chapter 31: The New Heir

[Princess][Archer][Wolf][Wally][Jason and Roy][Dick]

A/N: Omg second to last part you guys T-T or maybe second to last but omg so close to the end

Warning: violence/ torture

The girl stayed silent but kept still. Her head was pounding from the shock of the intense sound but she didn’t want to give herself away. 

(E/C) eyes stayed on Deathstroke as he put his gun down, chuckling.

“You think we didn’t prepare for you? Surely you weren’t so naive,” He paced around her, examining her stature, “Tell me, child, do you have a plan? Or did you just come here naive as ever? Was your training their doing?” 

(Y/N)’s lips were sewn shut, she knew he was trying to spite her. A new issue came into light, how was she going to get all of these idiots close enough to her? That was the only thing she needed to do and she could easily change and hide again to give herself the advantage. 

He started getting closer, her eyes scanned his clothes, making sure he didn’t have anything that could be used against her in her escape.

“Gah!” she cried, feeling a shooting pain in her shoulder before an intense numbness. 

“You should pay attention,” he mocked. 

“(Y-Y/N)?” A weak voice spoke. The girl glanced at Red Hood who painfully sat straighter to get a good look at her, “It’s you,”

“It’s me, Red,” the woman smiled reassuringly even if she was still upset at the four of them, now was not the time to speak about that. 

Slade walked up to her laying figure on the floor, peeling her attention away from the man as his shadow hovered over her. 

“We just have a few more files to download before we can bright you back with us,” he teased. 

“Wasteful child,” Lex scoffed.

“What happened?” the man turned to the bald one as he walked out. 

“Thanks to Miss’ little prank here, the system shut down and we have to download everything again, it can’t even go quicker since our leading man is the only one standing.” Lex sighed, turning to the girl, “you’re more of a nuisance than I anticipated.”

"I try," she grunted, as Slade grasped her shirt and pulled her up straight. The numbness was really off putting as the man bent down to cuff her hands behind her back. 

The woman didn’t hesitate to wince however when he stood behind and pulled her hair back forcefully after taking a fistfull of it. 

The bald man stared down at her, an unreadable expression on his face, before his eyes dipped to her chest. Her eyes widened subtly. Reaching down, his hand went to grasp her necklace, snatching it and breaking the collar in the process before taking a good look at it. 

“Oooh, how interesting, seems like we could be rich from this!” His grip was tight around the medallion, “this is the door to your so called kingdom is it not?” 

(Y/N) didn’t answer, knowing that he could see through any of her firm retorts. 

“Hmpf,” Lex smirked in satisfaction, placing the necklace in his inside jacket pocket and walking back to the computer room, “I’ll check on the download, keep an eye on her, we don’t want her causing any more trouble, once word gets out that we have this place, any superhero in proximity is going to make their way over here,” 

Slade offered him a disheartened grunt as a sign of understanding before he gripped the girl’s jaw tightly and tilted her head to meet his eyes.

“Say, Lex?” 

“What now?” the man in question groaned in frustration from the other room.

“You wouldn’t mind if I...roughen her a little bit?” a small smirk appeared on Deathstroke’s face as he perceived the girl visible gulp. 

Her sensitive hearing picked up a pissed sigh coming from the other room.

“Do what you like but don’t make it harder for us to get out in case of an emergency,” 

“Got it,” The man replied through gritted teeth, his smirk never faltering as he stood back up, eyes never leaving the girl.

“D-don’t touch her,” Red Hood spoke weakly.

“What are you going to do tough guy? Throw your punching bag body in front of her? You’re in no shape to do anything,” he snorted, only momentarily enjoying the interruption of his attention on the girl. 

“That Lilith girl was cute, alas, her blood is on your hands.” 

“I didn’t kill anybody,” (Y/N) snapped. 

“Oh really now? Because, you kinda killed her, if you didn’t have your stupid mutts go after her, she would still be alive,” he pinched her cheek hard, making her wince as she pulled out of his grip. 

“She got what was coming to her,” the girl spoke, trusting Kai’s instinct, he did what had to be done.

“How submissive are you?” He question rhetorically, landing a harsh slap on her cheek, not because of her wit but out of enjoyment. 

Hiding behind her hair, she bit down on her lip to stop her from making any sound that would encourage him to continue.

“No sound huh? I’ll get one out of you, don’t worry,” 

Shaking her head, her face fell until she wore a stone cold expression as a stone glare laced her eyes. 

“Oh my, are you trying to scare me?” 

She sniffed softly.

Wait, is that?

Without a moment of hesitation, she whistled loudly, hearing the familiar screech and the flap of wings.

“What the-”

The sharp claws dug into his shoulders as he went flying across the room. Lex rushed out as well as his last man. The latter gripped his gun and aimed it at the beast.

The feathered feline swung her tail directly at them, making them fall rather harshly on the floor before she pounced again. 

(Y/N) could do nothing but watch as her trusted friend knocked them defenceless.

Happily, the animal skipped after her success to the girl, beak nibbling on her restrains and freeing her.

“Thank you Anya,” her forehead nuzzled hers as she purred softly, “help me,” she instructed as they went to help their friends. In the midst of freeing her injured and unconscious friends, she heard the barrel of a gun.

“Not so fast,” Slade was pointing the gun at the griffin, (Y/N) froze, “you really are trouble,” a small tsk escaped his lips.

“Okay okay, just stop pointing at her,” the girl whispered, placing her hands in front of her to attract his attention away from the eagled-lion.

“I’ll cut you a deal little girl, you come with us and I don’t kill that pest of a pet,” his arm extended towards her, knowing by the look in her eyes the direction she will go in.

“Okay,” she breathed out, giving a reassuring side eye to Arya that sneered softly, “it’s okay,” she reassured, “take care of them for me,” her eyes dived down to the ground before she felt a hand grasp her clothes and pulled her against a hard chest.

“Lex, we need to go,” Slade spoke, never averting his attention from the protective beast. 

“It’s fine, we got the files, we can expose them and make money off the girl,” the man paced out with the man who now held a briefcase. 

“For those actually strong enough to stay conscious, it was a pleasure being the one knocking you in the ground-”

The girl shook her head, feeling herself trapped against the man until she glanced to her other captor. His pocket glowed softly.

The medallion!

Transporting the four of them to Arvaysia right in front of the castle’s doors, they’ll be stopped in no time -- but she’ll never be able to return again, she’ll have to rule over the kingdoms and will only be known as the Queen.

She hated the fact that she’ll never be able to enjoy her life as a normal person.

A defeated sigh escaped her lips as they slowly backed away from the various defeated heroes, most of which were still intoxicated by the gas.

“I’m sorry,” the girl whimpered. It was all her fault, she should be going back to Arvaysia, it’s the least she could do, it would help them.

Shoved back forcefully with Slade, he kicked the back of her legs to keep her quiet.

It worked, only making her wince under her breath. 

“The duty of a Queen rests in doing what is right for her people”

What was that? Did she just hear that? Who said it?

“I don't feel like my place in the kingdom will stand well among the people."

"Well, they trusted me with Tamaska because they had always put their faith in him and were never left disappointed, but now that he's gone, I- I don't think they will trust me, after all, he sacrificed himself for me."

She remembered.

"A good leader would not care for his reputation from the start, they would prove their worth from the start and listen to the voice of their people. They would learn from their mistakes and would not submit to greed."

Her eyes shot open, her mind was made up. 

Under her breath, she murmured, “as the future Queen of Arvaysia, I decree to transfer my future position and power to Kai Draugur of the Draugur Pack. Through the power invested in me, I declare Kai Draugur the new heir to the throne of the Kingdom-”

“What are you muttering on about?” Slade interrupted her, she was thankful it was at the end of the statement she took so long to learn by heart, a small glimmer of hope grew within her as she perceived Arya perk up, irises become purple.

The mythical creature’s presence was enough to pass the new order through, she was so relieved. 

Suddenly, she kicked Wilson in the crotch, ultimately freeing her from his embrace before pushing him to Lex and making sure his first henchman was physically connected as well.

“Stupid girl, get back here!” He grunted, lifting his gun again and aiming it to the griffin.

“I don’t think so!” her eyes turned into slits as she felt energy coursing through her as she delivered a very powerful punch to Lex’s pocket where hid the medallion.

Successfully breaking it, the man stumbled and grunted.

“Curse you-” they rapidly became surrounded by purple smoke and disappeared as the air dissipated around them, like they never existed.

“(Y-Y/N)?”

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[ecotone99]

[SP] The Southern Illinois Council of Evil

The meetings only happened on dark and stormy nights, which was written strictly in the organizational by-laws. So, when a SICOE meeting was called for a Tuesday because the weather forecast expected heavy rainfall but had to be cancelled because it only ended up being a light drizzle, nobody complained.

Of course, on Friday, right at the start of the weekend, it started coming down like a catastrophe and everybody had to cancel their big plans to drive out in the middle of a God-damned hurricane. Things were understandably tense, but not half as tense as the time when Catman and Dogman had hatesex at the podium. Neither of them were ever invited back, by the way.

Supervillains stalked in to the meeting hall and shook off like a group of feral cats finding a cardboard box shelter. Everyone appeared in costume, some of them had written agendas for the meeting but some of them still had bandoliers of laser grenades strapped on them. To say it was a freakshow would have been an understatement. It was what a freakshow would go to see so that they could all point and say, “Hey, will you look at those miserable fucks?”

There were enough tables for all of them to sit at but that didn’t stop about half of them from standing in the back drinking coffee. The by-laws said that the Council would not recognize anyone that wasn’t sitting but that was rarely enforced unless there was a fracas going on. A few troublemakers liked to rabble-rouse every now and then but it was rarely a problem.

The Wine Tasting Fundraiser had been outstanding last quarter so the conference room had been extensively remodeled and modernized. It had projectors, smart-screens, surround sound and even the podium still had that rich mahogany smell. Crime did pay.

At fifteen til, the head table was already full. None of them wanted to risk losing their position to a greedy usurper looking at taking a spot in the food chain and the by-laws were pretty explicit in the fact that there was absolutely no tolerance for tardiness in executive positions. The President, the Vice President, the Treasurer, the Secretary and the newly formed Legal Advisor position were all present and squared away well before any assault on the hierarchy could occur. Not that it would, walking into this place and expecting the worst was the wrong mindset.

The Errorist, who signed all of his dues checks as T.Errorist with the O shaped as a little bomb, hurried in, nearly late, and sat down in his customary spot. The Errorist was the world’s only satire villain who exclusively exploded institutions of religion while leaving a list of all the logical fallacies he could think of associated with the religion of choice. Because of his sardonically hardline approach to religion The Errorist wasn’t exactly a popular member of the group. About half of the people at the meeting were Catholic but there were also some Lutherans and even one Mennonite. And despite never openly acknowledging it, The Racer Racist was actually Southern Baptist and his local chapter of the KKK actually met after the Sunday sermon. None of them liked The Errorist. Even in supervillain circles, religion and politics were touchy subjects.

So when The Errorist sat down in his usual spot where he and his two other friends usually sat he was dismayed to see that The Middler wasn’t in the chair adjacent to him. The Middler was a mediocre criminal that stole only a moderate amount of money in bank robberies and he always sat next to The Errorist as a part of their unofficial group-within-a-group. On the other side of The Middler’s chair sat down Doctor Rocktopus, the third member of the group.

Doctor Rocktopus was a man and an octopus and a doctor and a musician. Which all sounds confusing, but hold on, everything is about to be explained. Doc-Rock has a man’s body but his head is just a full octopus plopped down on his neck meat, proportionate to the size of his body. He uses his extra appendages to play his deadly instrument weapons like his Guntar which is a guitar-gun or his Drum-Missiles which is exactly what it sounds like as well. Doc-Rock also designed all of his own weapons with his knowledge of chemistry, engineering, and stellar indie beats. So he really isn’t as complicated as he sounds when you think about it for a minute. Just a regular old, musician/scientist/human/cephalopod.

Doctor Rocktopus looked over to The Errorist and gave him a mournful, knowing nod. The Middler must have been pinched by one of the do-gooders for something. They would probably have to break him out of the ol’pokey sometime this next week before concert season began. Doctor Rocktopus always dragged them to Phish concerts which had to be some sort of stereotype, somehow.

“Will everyone please stand for the pledge of allegiance?... Hah, I kid, I kid. Everyone knows America will be split up and auctioned off to the highest bidders whenever we enact global domination. I just wanted to start things off a little light hearted, you know?” SICOE President Baroque Rat cackled.

The Baroque Rat wasn’t just the President of SICOE, he was also the founder. He called the first meeting together nearly 23 years ago when it was just him and three other guys. He had a penchant for bureaucracy which seemed to be a lucky coincidence to his name. He was really a half-man/half-rat (rat from the waist up and man from the waist down) who chose to dress in frilly 17th century European fashions. He was literally just a Baroque Rat that happened to be a very apt Bureaucrat. The world was funny sometimes.

“Can I hear a motion to read the minutes from last meeting? Ehh… Motion made by The-Supervillain.com, Cyber evil a click away, and seconded by… Who is that? Oh, yes, Reflectorcist, the Mirror-based Demonologist, Jesus you all need to get some shorter titles. Ok, Secretary Tex Luthor, the floor is yours to read the minutes.”

Tex Luthor stood up from the head table and made his way to the podium, trying to put loosely held notes together into a stack. He wasn’t the worst Secretary the Council had ever had (Dyslexorcist, the illiterate demonologist, had been a literal nightmare) but his southern sensibilities did not seem to compliment the bureaucratic hierarchy. He usually had tons of folksy evil wisdom though.

“Ahem, yes, now,” Tex Luthor’s southern drawl twanged in even that brief moment, turning monosyllabic words into an orgy of sounds. Yes was turned into something that sounded like “Yeee-aaass” and the word now was mutated into “Neey-yooww”. Tex continued to nervously shuffle his notes, the poor guy had stage fright, it was only his second meeting reading the minutes. He hadn’t been a council chair member for very long and it was definitely starting to show.

“Last meeting, started with a motion to read the minutes of the previous meeting by Tinnitus-Titan, evil’s biggest little noise, and it was seconded by X-Ray-Cist, the radioactive demonologist… Boy, you, uh you guys and gals ever realized how many of these ‘exorcist’ people we got?”

“Move on, cabrón!” Shouted a voice in a distinctively Spanish accent. Mex Luthor. “Nobody asked you, filthy beaner!” Tex spat back.

The two, Tex Luthor and Mex Luthor, unrelated, had always been at odds against each other. Both had drawn inspiration from the legendary fictional supervillain Lex Luthor while also trying to pay homage to their respective ethnic heritages. They were both pretty stupid but damn, if they weren’t the most evil people you could ever meet. Tex Luthor robbed orphanages on two separate occasions and Mex Luthor built a dandruff machine that affected only Chron’s Disease victims. If only they could ever manage to get over their differences.

Tex Luthor restarted reading the minutes to sound of snickers coming from Mex’s table. Afterwards the sounds of papers rustled as everyone flipped over to the next page of the agenda. Groans filtered through softly as some of them realized what it was. A month ago, there had been a skeleton crew meeting. It had been the start of college football season and most of the big-timers had kids in school that were physically aggressive… So, yeah, most of them skipped the meeting. During that meeting a controversial motion was made and passed with a three-quarters vote. The motion: regular gender and cross cultural awareness training seminars.

Today was fifteen minutes from Lady Marksman’s “Feminine Heist Courtesies” and it was largely unpopular among the core villains. The class typically ran for four hours but Lady Marksman agreed to teach it as a series of small classes in exchange for a five year contract of refresher courses.

“I would like it noted in the minutes that I object to this whole fucking spectacle you bunch of homos are making!” Red Scoliosis shouted in his signature German accent. Red Scoliosis had a power that he called Scoliokinesis that he had developed as a Nazi Scientist back in World War 2, he was able to bend people’s backs with his mind. Also, he was literally the color of a red crayon. It was all deeply offensive, just like his grating personality.

The Errorist had once gone on a heist with Red Scoliosis that went completely off the rails. A superhero (Messiah Maniac: just another Jesus hero) knocked Red Scoliosis unconscious and when they were put into the squad car together The Errorist punched him right in the face while he was still out of it. The big red moron still didn’t know and even regularly mailed him Christmas cards.

“It has been noted, but if you speak out of turn again, I am going to go eleven herbs and spices all over your Nazi ass.” Colonel Planders replied in his Kentucky drawl. Colonel Planders was more than just a Kentucky Colonel/Mastermind, he was also the Vice President of the Council. He had the sharpest dastardly mind in the building. He leaned over to the Baroque Rat and whispered to him, “Ah’d been planning to say that for the last two hours.”

That was funny because the meeting started literally thirty minutes ago. Lady Marksman made her way up to the podium with a laptop bag and a fat pile of handouts which she slammed down on Red Scoliosis’ table.

“Pass those out, bitch.” She muttered and kept walking.

Red Scoliosis slid the whole pile off the table and they fluttered to the ground in a heap but it didn’t matter. He just lost a lot of reputation with the boys. He never had much of a reputation with the girls.

Lady Marksman made it up to the podium and smiled smartly, snidely, simply satisfied. Sorry, the comic book crowd loves alliteration.

“Good evening everyone. Some of you may know of me, I am the precision based supervillain Lady Marksman. Before you ask, I am completely unaffiliated with Marksman, another precision based supervillain. We both just had the same great idea for a name right around the same time.”

“Can’t you just change you name to Markswoman?” The Sexorcist shouted out from the crowd. Not many people liked to acknowledge Sexorcist, that guy was fucking gross. Gross demon sex stuff that makes hentai (Japanese animated porn for the uninitiated) look like Walt Disney. Every now and then he’d try to use his powers to rob a bank and it would go wrong in every conceivable way.

“No, that sounds stupid. Literally the most stupid name anybody could suggest.” Nobody liked to encourage the guy that regularly opened portals to another world for shadowy tendrils to reach out and seek the nearest orifices.

It was somewhere around Lady Marksman’s seventh minute speaking that Middler quietly sidled up into his normal chair. He flashed a grin over at The Errorist and gave Doc Rock a thumbs up. Doc Rock shrugged and went back to looking at his villain Twitter feed.

“What happened?” The Errorist mouthed quietly to his friend.

The Middler answered by lifting his hands up above the table. Around his wrists were handcuffs that had been severed at the middle joint.

“I had to escape!” He whispered back excitedly.

Lady Marksman wrapped up her introductory course with three rules about on the job bathrooms that all rhymed. She was applauded back to her seat with a vehemently moderate effort. It was underwhelmingly enthusiastic.

Tyrannosaurus Rexorcist, the SICOE Treasurer and dinosaur demonologist, got up to give a brief summary of the accounts as well as a rundown of the most recent expenditures. He was halfway through explaining the cost of aftermarket modifications being added to the espresso machine station when he abruptly paused.

“Aherm…. I just… Oh my God… Oh my fucking God! What are we all fucking doing? We are the bad guys? What is this? WHAT IS ALL THIS FUCKING SHIT?!? We should be out there right now killing heroes, kicking ass and ignoring names! We sho--!” T-Rexorcist was cut short by a swift karate chop to his throat by the Baroque Rat.

“Nothing to see here folks!” The Devil’s Advocate, half demon and all lawyer, said as Colonel Planders subdued the Tyrannosaurus Rexorcist with his wrist mounted net launcher. Devil’s Advocate, the Council’s Legal Council, gave a nervous chuckle as Tyrannosaurus Rexorcist was dragged from the stage. “Just another regular old existential villain crisis, I heard his wife is divorcing him.”

A motion to move on to new business was quickly raised by Trend-gineer, the fashion forward gadget-based villain. It was immediately seconded by The Errorist. Nobody wanted to think that any of them could have a mental break like that at any time. If they all collectively ignored it hard enough then maybe it would stop happening. “The motion to continue on to new business passes.” The Baroque Rat said as he wiped his brow and sat back at his seat again.

Thanks for reading my story! I have probably never had more fun while writing than when I wrote this. So it might not be any good but I guess it is ok because I had a blast coming up with all of this. Feel free to tell me what you thought! I always welcome constructive criticism!

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