Primate Typings

From the Desk of the Dictator:

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

Operation I-Should-Have-Probably-Named-It-But-It-Wasn’t-Part-Of-One-Of-Our-Take-Over-The-World-Plots-So-I-Didn’t was a success with some additional positive, if unexpected, results. We successfully rescued the soul of Henchman 98B-3O (Carl), which we expected, but it looks like it may have resulted in a proper secret origin story for him too.

First, let’s talk about the actual execution of the rescue. Carl’s soul was being held by the dragon statue Granquartz. Our occult department prepared some materials, and I hired the Positronic Ghost to deliver them to since he could complete the job more quietly than anyone currently on staff.

The Positronic Ghost was built by one of the former leaders of Technefarious, Dr. Masivo. The doctor had found that building a sentient computer was easier if the materials used were entirely antimatter. Unfortunately, antimatter has a bad habit of exploding when it actually touches anything on Earth. Masivo addressed that problem by building the entire thing slightly out of phase with the rest of the world. As a result, it could seen and heard and but not touched. In keeping with the theme, he built his computer an antimatter body of a seven-foot tall robotic skeleton dressed in rags. Dr. Masivo had a sense of humor.

I’ve always liked the Positronic Ghost. Sure, his attention span isn’t great, and you have to prod him sometimes to get moving again, but he’s a pleasant (if occasional abstract) conversationalist. I was sorry when he left us to pursue his own projects.

Positronic Ghost snuck Granquartz’s lair and coated the stone eggs in her nest with the dragon semen our occult department had prepared. Now fertilized, the eggs quickened within a couple of days and then hatched. Carl was reborn with his soul now attached to a body of baby dragon statue. The other eggs had also hatched with other souls Granquartz had captured. In the confusion of the dozen or so sudden births, Carl escaped from the Soil Six’s base and flew back to us. Apparently learning to fly with a body made of stone is easier than you might think.

The occult department has reattached Carl’s soul to a clone body but found that they did not have to detach it from the dragon statue. So if you see the clone or the statue walking around, keep in mind that they are both Carl. Given his unusual condition, we’re evaluating him to see what additional training and duties might be suitable for him.

Later in this week, the science department will start their battle robot contest. Be sure you get your filled out elimination brackets to Dr. Ratchetman by Thursday morning to have a chance at winning the betting pool.

I have one quick note on the package exchange program with our enemies, the Golden Web. They haven’t sent us anything back yet, but Frigid noted I should have put a mesmerizing subliminal in the Manimal Betamax tapes I sent the Golden Web. So thanks, Frigid, for the brilliant idea after the fact. I’m going to go be grumpy now.

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

From the Desk of the Dictator:

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

For those of you wondering how I was going recap the end of last week’s reality rewrite, I’ll say that the solution involved a cartoon animal orgy. Now let us never speak of it again.

Rather than press on with one of our big projects this week, I authorized the recovery of Henchman 98B-3O (Carl). We lost him during our operation against the Soil Six when he was eaten by Granquartz the Magnificent, the giant living stone dragon statue that makes her home in the Six’s base. Normally, we would have just brought Carl back by putting his soul into a clone of his body, but after the battle his soul did not show up in the Technefarious’s soul catchers. Our occult department determined that Granquartz had somehow ensnared Carl’s soul during the fight.

While I was away last month playing with aliens, our wizards figured out a way to extract Carl from Granquartz’s claws. Most of the process could be accomplished using in-house resources, but there a few aspects that needed to be brought in from outside. I took it upon myself to arrange for their acquisition, which means I got to call Bleach into my office and tell him to bring me five gallons of dragon semen. I love being the supervillain in charge.

He succeeded in his mission, but refused to discuss the details after he got back. I thought that was a little odd. I mean dragon semen isn’t as useful as dragon blood, but it is available on the black market. He would have just told me if he bought it, right?

The occult department did their work on the materials Bleach had acquired, and then all that was left to do was to deliver the load. I decided to go with a more subtle approach than our last attack on the Soil Six’s base. Since Quanquartz’s quarters are in the caves in the back of their base and we weren’t trying to steal anything out of it this time, I went with a phase-shifter to sneak in. No one currently on our staff specializes in that power set, but I make it a policy to stay on good term with former Technefarious employees whenever possible. I contacted the Positronic Ghost and he has agreed to make the run for a tidy sum.

There were no henchmen deaths to memorialize this week. Hopefully, that’s a good sign for this operation.

In another news, the Golden Web responded to cremated remains of their agents, the note, and the bomb we sent them the other week. They responded by sending back a fruitcake with a file baked into it. The science and occult departments tell me that it doesn’t seemed to be booby trapped or otherwise stranger than it appears to be. I had it teleported to one of our storage facilities in the asteroid belt to play it safe. I responded to the Golden Web’s puzzling package by sending them a set of pirated copies of the television series Manimal recorded on Betamax tapes. I had the commercials left in.

This week’s recreational activities include the propaganda department screening a marathon of Larry Lemur animated shorts in auditorium A. I won’t be attending.

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

From the Desk of the Dictator:

If you’re reading this, our usual universe is offline. While our paradox implants means that most of Technefarious is around in their original forms, the rest of the universe has been turned into a Mad Max post-apocalypse world inhabited by cartoon animal versions of all the superheroes and supervillains who don’t have paradox implants. Apparently, Larry Lemur the Living Cartoon was cheating with Universan of the ApocoCreatures, when his girlfriend Malicia Ravenwitch caught them in the act. As the domestic fight escalated, the three accidently rewrote the universe. We’re trying to fix it.

I’m typing this on my communicator so those extra-universal beings tapping into Technefarious’s internal memo system for their own entertainment don’t wonder why I didn’t write a memo this week. It’s too expensive to make our whole base paradox proof, so our usual equipment doesn’t exist for the Technefarious staff to read. So this is just for all you extra-universal voyeurs out there.

My usual posts for actual Technefarious staff should resume next week. Unless the fuzzy cartoon people kill us first.

Your Leader,

Dr. Photius Callaway

The Killing Man

From the Desk of the Dictator:

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

It’s good to be back. For those wondering where I was at the end of last week, I took a few days off. Escaping from the clutches of some deeply disturbed aliens was exhausting, so after I got back, I spent a couple of days at home catching up on my sleep. What’s the point of being charge of a supervillain organization if you can’t take a personal day now and then? Speaking of which, why did anyone place bets that I was actually on vacation with Green Needle in the betting pool about my disappearance? I’m a SUPERVILLAIN. Taking a vacation with a beautiful woman is the cover I use for committing criminal activity. Why would I lie about getting abducted by aliens to cover up my getting laid? The odds that Frigid had secretly staged a coup and had me assassinated was a safer bet.

Speaking of whom, I’d like to extend a special thanks to Frigid for keeping Technefarious ticking along while I was unavailable. I have reports on minor advancements of several projects while I was away. I’m happy to report I brought back my own contribution to our work from my trip. Among the materials I had Fusion Man make for me back on the Asyms’s ship were two energy collection rods that we were using months ago to gather his signature radiation for Project Cut Flowers. He didn’t know what they were, and I collected a lot in the short time we worked together since he was using his powers instead of just sulking in a cell.

Still, not everything during my absence was betting pools and serendipitous radiation collection. Frigid had to deal with her own insurrection while I was away. A half-dozen henchmen tried assassinate her, Bleach, and the Elite Triad. Strictly speaking, it was not a coup because they were acting on behalf of the Golden Web. Technefarious’s rivalry with the G.W. goes all back the way back to our founder, Dr. Crankpot. They tried to recruit the good (evil) Doctor at the beginning of his career, but he rejected them. Even as a youngster, he was a cranky old bastard that didn’t like taking orders. Technefarious grew out of the henchmen Crankpot surrounded himself with, so naturally we bumped heads with the G.W. in our competition to conquer the world. The current leaders of the Golden Web decided my absence was perfect time to strike at us.

I executed Henchmen 85G-0U (Charlie), 35S-6N (Hank), 91Z-0U (Robert), 43F-1L (Archie), 27L-5L (Scott), 21V-6C (Jean) for their infiltration of Technefarious on the Golden Web’s behalf. While we mull our response options, I had their ashes shipped back to the G.W. with a note and a bomb attached.

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

From the Desk of the Dictator:

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

Frigid assures me that you’ve all been good little henchmen while I’ve been stranded on the far side of the universe, and frankly, that terrifies me.

To calm my nerves, I’ll fill you in on what I’ve been up to since my abduction by aliens.  Did I mention that it was Green Needle’s fault? The Asyms abducted her first. According to Shine, the Asyms are always born as not-twins, so they assume all other species must also come as a mismatched set. When they are asked Green Needle to identify her other half, she chose me. I said she should have chosen Rage Carnage, instead. She responded that she wanted someone who would help her back to Earth, not someone that would blow up the entire space ship. I told her that we would just have to see about that.  

Physically, the Asyms are notable for their variety of body shapes. They display very little in the way of symmetry, with mismatched limbs and organs stuck randomly along their body. Despite their mishmash of fish/mammal/reptile/insect/bird/tree/amoeba/non-Euclidean-monster-parts, they manage to move with a lethal grace. Apparently, their species has a staggering rate of mutations, fueled in part by their reproductive cycle. Shine claims that after the “egg” and “sperm” of a mated not-twin pair mix, the fertilized result scrambles the available genetic material and then splits into a new pair of not-twins. This happens by the trillions when they mate. Most combinations die immediately, and not-twins that lose their other half are quickly swarmed under by the complete not-twin pairs, resulting in a new horde of asymmetrical abominations every generation. Apparently, only their lifelong link to their not-twin and their reproductive cycle is the only things that breed true. Considering how many superpowers are the side effects of mutations on our planet, you can imagine the range of abilities they have as a species. It doesn’t seem particularly efficient way to go about it to me, but it’s a weird universe.

Impressed by the diversity they saw while observing Earth, they decided to take an extra sample of the local fauna besides Green Needle and myself. I’ve mention that Fusion Man was along for this trip in my last memo, which means that yes, the Shine I keep mentioning in this one is Shine Jackson: Action Blogger. Shine isn’t really a proper superhero, falling more into the Jimmy Olsen (Earth 1) or Rick Jones (Earth 616) spectrum of sidekick: no natural power set of his own, he still manages hang in with the heaviest of superhero adventures. Shine has had superpowers now and then, but nothing that stays with him all the time. Of course, his best friend is Fusion Man, who you can imagine was just delighted to see me as a fellow abductee. Actually, he assumed I was in league with the aliens, which isn’t surprising considering Technefarious had him imprisoned ourselves a few months ago. Shine and Green Needle managed to convince him otherwise, but it was kind of dicey there for a few minutes.

The Asyms watched our less-than-friendly scuffle without interfering, which is typical for them. Apparently, they spend their time trying to discover the ultimate evolution, a state they seem to think comes about by one organism destroying another. I’ve actually killed two not-twin pairs on this trip so far. They have the technology to corral us without making themselves vulnerable, but they’ll still expose themselves to us to see how we’ll react. Not being a superhero, I usually react by trying to whittle their numbers down. They’re tough enough but won’t normally come to the aid of someone who isn’t their not-twin. If I want to fight a pair, the Asym will let me, just to see if I will die. I don’t, and then they use their force fields to force back to whatever holding area they had us in that day.

My murders on this trip haven’t been limited to the Asyms. We’re not the only sample they’ve taken from the universe, and like kids putting insects in a glass jar, they’ll dump us together to see how we’ll react to the other aliens in the menagerie. That is how I got hurt last week. Bored by the fact that we four humans weren’t fighting among ourselves anymore, they added these two toxic radioactive piles of sludge. The goo took an immediate dislike to us, leaping to devour Shine as he recorded his impressions of our new roommates. Fusion Man, of course, leapt to his aid, but the sludges hit him with some sort of radiation burst that disoriented him (science department, please take note). My powers tipped me off that letting the piles devour Fusion would cause an unpleasant reaction to the local area, so I had to leap in, earning myself two goo-dissolved nubs of what use to be my hands, followed up by a mouth full of goo when I screamed. If Fusion Man hadn’t been still functioning well enough to fly me away from the fight, I would have been even more miserable than I was while my body parts regrew. While that was going on, Green Needle had been methodically cycling through her arsenal of poisoned needles in her gun, finally happening upon a combination that the sludge didn’t like.

The Asyms left us alone while Fusion Man and I recovered from the fight, but they’ve started mixing us with new roommates again. That’s a good thing. We four humans have been working on a plan.

Have a good week everyone. I’ll be home soon.

Your Leader,

Dr. Photius Callaway

The Killing Man

From the Desk of the Dictator:

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

As some of you may have already noticed, I’m not in my office today. This is not because I took an unscheduled vacation or a sick day. No, it’s because I was kidnapped by aliens. Oh sure, it happens to all of us. White light, strapped down, probe up the butt, but usually you wake up in your own bed in the morning.

Hang on one moment.

Green Needle tells me that doesn’t happen all that much, although she says she’s willing to help with my butt probe on this trip. I told her we would discuss that later, after we’ve settled the immediate issues at hand.

For example, as the leader of Technefarious, I’m going to order that our department heads assign some resources to find out where the heck I am. While Green Needle arranged to have me kidnapped with all with all my equipment, I don’t actually carry anything that lets me know where I am when I’m not on Earth. The split-photon signal we use in communicators is generally not blockable by technology means, so I’m reasonably confident this memo is going to be posted. I’m also told split-photons are not traceable, which means the science department won’t be able to just track my signal. I’m not sure we’re still in Earth orbit, so the occult department may have a tough time reaching me too. Get to work, people.

Hang on one moment.

Green Needle says I should have said, “where the hell I am” in the last paragraph, because I’m a supervillain. She also says my communicator looks suspiciously like a cell phone. I’m going to ignore her now.

I’m putting Frigid in charge while I’m gone. If you don’t like it, take it up with the Elite Triad. Remember everyone, if I don’t agree with any coups you carry out against my appointed replacement while I’m gone, I’ll kill you.

Sounds like the aliens are coming back now, so I’m going to hit post.

Have a good week everyone. And remember, the world is already ours – well, just yours right now, I guess. Keep it safe for me.

Your Leader,

Dr. Photius Callaway  

The Killing Man

From the Desk of the Dictator: 

Welcome back from your weekend everyone.

Well, that was plan 1,782 for world domination into the recycling bin. Most of them never make it out of the planning stages, but this one actually looked like it might succeed for a few days.

Our initial plan (with the full title of PROJECT JELLY DOUGHNUT: GIANT EARTHQUAKES FROM SATTELITE BASED EARTHQUAKE MACHINES) worked well. All the resources were assembled with minimum losses on our part. The equipment built worked within expectations. Things did not fall apart until the implementation of the last part of the project, Operation Flat Pancake. The initial developments went well: the world knew we were demanding their capitulation, the earthquake machines worked well, and the Establishment was off balance. Delivering our message to the entire world at once undermined the public’s confidence in their governments, making the world’s nations more susceptible to our threats. The earthquake machines could focus sharply enough to target conventional military equipment. We proved that by picking off of several fighter jets in mid-flight while we were roughing up the armed forces of the more belligerent nations. Which just left the various unconventional forces of the Earth.

Considering how many millions of superpowered people we have on our planet, it’s surprising how few offensive superpowered units are part of any of the world’s standing armies. I suppose that’s partially influenced by superhero traditions that sprang up over the course of the last century, then reinforced by treaties worked out by the victors of World War II to set limits on the escalation of warfare fueled by superpowers. I know the Iron 56 incident in Germany near the end of the war scared both the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R. pretty badly. Even now, Earth acts as the home to at least fifteen beings that could destroy galaxies or entire universes. The idea of setting their patriotic planet killers against each other gave the world leaders pause, and the resulting treaties are thought to have prepped the ground for later treaties about nuclear weapons and other WMD’s. 

The Establishment, of course, doesn’t belong to any nation. Its Board of Directors is drawn from the global superhero population, theoretically making in neutral in international politics. This gives it the strength to coordinate the superpowered population for the Earth’s regular repulsion of extra-dimensional and extra-terrestrial attacks. By the same token, the Establishment rarely interferes with anyone’s domestic or international politics. So if we can ever convince the nations of the world to surrender, the Establishment is less likely to continue the fight. At the very least, it would shrink the pool of resources its leadership can draw from.

Of course, first you have to convince the nations of the world that the Establishment can’t come to their rescue. So they found our satellites pretty early in the first day but had trouble doing anything about them. Technefarious has decades of data about superpowers from which we developed defenses for the satellites to hold off the Establishment. According to our models, each could stand up to ten thousand years of attack. We actually hoped they would stand up to an average of about eight hours of abuse, because ours is a weird world, and there’s always some new power source popping up. Of course, we had three warehouses full of replacement satellites that we could teleport into orbit whenever one got destroyed. They kept the Establishment busy. So busy that it really unnerved the national governments that the Establishment could not just stop the earthquakes. Unfortunately, the Establishment could have kept popping our earthquake machines pretty much indefinitely, and their own bases are turned out to be mostly immune to the satellites. Our intelligence department chalks that up to all the oddball powers the Establishment has access to, so we had to take to fight directly to their leadership.

This is where things fell apart. Dealing with the Suit and his elite Executives is never easy, but it had to be done. While our assault teams conducted distraction attacks against the Establishment’s regular forces, I lead a direct assault against the Executives. I can’t give you a firsthand account of most of the fight. I targeted Suit himself, naturally enough. On paper, the man should only be a second tier hero, but his decades of experience leading the Establishment make him too dangerous to leave breathing. He used those decades of experience to take me off the board. I spend most of the battle trapped in a “dead room,” where Technefarious’s remote equipment could not reach me. I could have gotten out of that easily enough, but the Suit had dug up a guy called Grimmed.

I can kill anything. It’s my most notable superpower. What I can’t guarantee is that my victim will stay dead. Grimmed died a lot over the next few hours but was back and intact with seconds. When I tried to leave him just maimed, the little bastard killed himself. If Bleach had not eventually convinced Green Needle to have the Chlorophyll Cabal join our assault, I’m not entirely sure when I would have gotten out of there. Green Needle eventually tracked me down, and she solved my problem by hitting Grimmed with a paralyzing need, followed up with another shot that put him to sleep.

Despite my personal problems, we actually made a good accounting of ourselves. Technefarious left three Executives dead (although I’m sure they’ll be back among the living soon) and completely trashed their base. Unfortunately, by then it was a moot point.

The Executive Gearhead had managed to break away early in the fight to continue his research on the beams our satellites were emitting. While the Establishment’s base collapsed around him, he managed to develop a counter-field and deploy it. Within seconds of turning it on, our satellites became useless. The Establishment still hasn’t found everything we put in orbit, but with the heroes’ new ability to stop our earthquake machines with a flick of a switch, we’re going to have to file Project Jelly Doughnut in the failed plot drawer. 

Oddly enough, we suffered no deaths this week. Our base was never compromised, so the soul catchers and cloning equipment never went offline. I think this is the first time we’ve ever run the final operation of a project and none of our people died. It feels strange.

In any event, this memo is running long, so check the bulletin boards for this week’s events.

Have a good week everyone. And remember, the world is already ours – it just outfought us this time.

Your Leader,

Dr. Photius Callaway

The Killing Man