|The New Help
Author: Adrian Tullberg PM
The Monarch of Latveria must deal with the new help ...Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - Words: 470 - Reviews: 27 - Favs: 68 - Follows: 11 - Published: 06-05-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5115287
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Victor von Doom, Monarch of Latveria, strode into his castle. Despite the indignity of imprisonment and dealing with Osborn, he was back in the seat of his power, and intended to restore the fear and respect that the name Doom commanded.
As soon as his new servant finally arrived. English, suddenly available and with very good references. Tended to voice his opinion somewhat.
"Attend me, my minion!"
Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth rounded the corner, looking more annoyed than Doom felt. "Attending, your pretentiousness."
The angry streak that made rehiring staff so difficult resurfaced. "Give me one reason I should let you live."
Alfred seemed oblivious to the sheer danger he was descending into, and started dusting down the Monarch's shoulders. "I'm the only one who can wash that cape of yours without it shrinking, I'm the only one who can prepare goulash exactly the way you like it ..."
"I said one!"
Alfred removed Doom's cape. "Only the best for you, Lord Doom. How did your incarceration go at the hands of the Americans"
"Bah! No prison can hold the likes of Doom!"
Alfred raised an impeccable eyebrow. "You cut a deal, didn't you?"
"... yes ..."
"At least you were well fed. The armour looks a little ... snugger than usual."
Doom's voice raised in outrage. "I was only fed a basic diet of bread and water!"
Alfred rapped the midsection of Doom's torso. "And you smuggled out a muffin top."
Doom tried to regally wrap his cloak around himself, and only realised his insufferable servant had taken away the concealing garment. "A … trifling matter. Soon, my latest scheme shall ascend me to Godhood ..."
"... and you'll blame it's failure on a defective robot again."
Doom stopped his forward march to his throne. "Do not presume to predict Doom's failure!"
"I presume either people think you're lacking as a supervillain or lacking as a robot manufacturer."
Doom sat down, with more force than usual, on his throne. That was the only reason for the creak of protest from his seat. "Not this time! In my absence, my trap has been sprung, the wayfarer of space is now within my clutches again!"
Alfred stopped hanging up Doom's cloak. "That Silver Surfer fellow...?"
"Entrapped in my machinery down below, he shall surrender the Power Cosmic to my all powerful siphon!"
Alfred raised his hand. "Let me clarify Lord Doom, you have shackled this man to the wall in your custom made dungeon, and will soon suck out all his power."
Alfred gave Doom a rather pointed look. "Is this one of those affairs that requires a safeword?"
Doom instantly stood, pointing towards the kitchens, despite the face Alfred was already leaving. "BEGONE!"
"I assure you, I have no desire to watch ..."