From the Desk of the Dictator:
Welcome back from your weekend everyone.
After I killed his old sidekick Record Holder last week, Pinnacle finally decided to send someone to hunt me down. Something, anyway. I’m still not sure if it was a person or not.
The hero of Lowplain decided to begin by delivering a message to me by hacking into our computer network. Our firewall would have normally just blocked the attack, except it happened to come encrypted with D.O.C.T.O.R.’s personal communication codes. Naturally, the Elite Triad likes to keep an eye out for their creator, so it was held for their examination. Taking it apart, they found a longitude, a latitude, and Pinnacle’s signature.
It was a trap for me, but I’d already accepted that probability by taking the fight to him at the beginning of this project. The only question was how long I was going to wait before showing up. Should I try to take him by surprise by showing up quickly or let him stew while he waited around for me to show up? I focused on killing Pinnacle for some insights on which would be better, but my powers suggested no actions on the matter that would bring me closer to my goal. My curiosity piqued by this anomaly, I teleported to right away into the trap and nearly got my ass blown away.
The Collector Colossal, one of Pinnacle’s supervillains, likes to collect large machines. He’s particularly fond of death traps, and apparently had one that was triggered by incoming teleports. Luckily, my reflexes are well above average, and he had chosen rockets as the payload for this particular trap. I had planned on taking evasive maneuvers upon arrival anyway, so I was a good position to get out of the blast radius with nothing worse than getting bumped around when the shock wave hit me.
The Collector himself was not around. Pinnacle just borrowed one of his facilities to wear me down before our final confrontation. By “our†I mean myself and something dressed up as Pinnacle. After battling my way through a swarm of mechanical hornets, busting through a maze of mirrors filled with deadly lasers, and batting away nine innings worth of deadly baseballs (don’t ask), I faced off with my antagonist. He was built like Pinnacle, moved like the superhero, and even fought like him. However, I knew killing him would not result in Pinnacle’s death. I wondered if this was a robot or an android or a homunculus but decided it did not really matter.
Our fight was strenuous, rolling through a factory line for poisonous pies, a deadly dark ride, and ending in a bowling alley of doom. I used the OSHA unapproved super-fast ball return system to sever the doppelganger’s hand and pinned his shoe to the ground to keep him from wandering away while I explained to him what was going to happen next. I was going to leave him alive so he could pass a message along to his master. The next time, Pinnacle had better face me himself or I would switch to killing my way through his associates. I would deliver the time and place to the hero at the address he had sent his message from.
The science and propaganda department will provide this week’s special event at headquarters. Apparently their mass mesmerizing machine has entered its beta stage, and they’re ready to try it on a large audience. They promise it will provide a unique entertainment experience for the audience. I won’t be participating. I need to go prepare my own trap for Pinnacle. Try not to become lobotomized zombies while I’m gone.
Before I pack, I thought you all might like to know that the Golden Web sent their latest package in our weird exchange of junk. They sent me a light bulb certified to have been in CBGB’s bathroom in the late 70’s. I’m afraid to touch it. Lord knows what it’s carrying. I am curious how it was officially certified, though.
Have a good week everyone. Remember, the world is already ours – it just doesn’t realize it yet.
Your Leader,
Dr. Photius Callaway
The Killing Man