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Althatis slid the paper to the pudgy clerk behind the counter, but the
clerk slid it right back.
"I'm sorry, sir, but this is an Intent to Take Over the World I-600
form. What you need is an Intent to Take Over the World I-601."
Althatis growled. The clerk was lucky the glass separating them had
been insulated against eye-generated death rays. The Department of
Villainous Affairs had seen to that after Althatis's last visit.
"What's the difference?" Althatis asked.
"Lackeys, sir." The clerk pulled the form back under the glass and
pointed to a line of tiny type. "You've indicated here that you have an evil
henchman."
"Of course I have an evil henchman. Who tries to take over the world
without an evil henchman?"
"You'd be surprised." The clerk swilled a cupful of black coffee.
"Middle management is getting too problematic for some guys. I mean, think about the insurance rates you're paying to cover yourself in case of betrayal or ineptitude. It's cheaper going solo now."
Althatis drummed his fingers on the counter. The pudgy man had a
point. How many times had I. M. Becile, his trusted henchman, let his sundry nemeses escape because he thought an attractive woman was actually after him and not the keys to the hero's cell dangling from his belt? And how many times had the hero escaped because Becile chose to share the details of a nefarious scheme? Althatis used to find those monologues flattering, an attempt to be like him, but now . . .
"You know, Mr. Vile," the clerk said in a hushed voice, "if you want to
go it alone, I could just white out this part of your application and . . ."
"No!" Althatis reached under the glass and snatched the form back,
scratching the clerk with his long, black nails in the process. Becile
was incompetent, yes, but admitting as much on paper would make Althatis wrong, and that was not acceptable.
The clerk sighed. "Then I'm afraid you're going to have to go fill out
an I-601 and wait in line again, sir."
"Wait again?" Althatis glanced over his shoulder, smoke billowing
out his nose. The line was out the door now. "Do you have any idea how long I've been here already, you fool? Don't you realize who I am? I am
Althatis Vile! Bane of Dudley the Dauntless! Scourge of Stanley the
Stout-Hearted! Tormenter of Vicky the Valiant! Plague of . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, you and every other bozo here." The clerk adjusted the
bullet proof vest he was wearing and looked past Althatis. "Next!"
Althatis skulked away from the counter, then turned back to
disintegrate the I-600 form he had left there with his eye-generated death rays. The next villain in line, Sarah Salacious, scowled at the pile of ash on the counter.
She's an attractive one, Althatis thought. Team up with someone like
that and the guys at the Nefarious Club might overlook it when I off my evil henchman.
Althatis reached for an I-601 form, then stopped to admire as Sarah
Salcious tried to claw her way through the glass separating her from the clerk, all the while screaming, "What do you mean I need a different form?"
With his trademark maniacal laugh, Althatis scanned the forms piled in
front of him until he found an I-603: Intent to Take Over the World with
Another Evil Villain.
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