Wayne will pay for this, she thinks bitterly as the sharp clanging of a wrench meets cement floor, followed immediately by the monotonous bowgs of the brainbots giving chase, leading to the predictable tussle between them, with the victor bringing the loathsome wrench right back to the bored blue villain to repeat the whole process with nothing more than an indifferent sigh…

For the last hour and a half.

Really, it wasn't Wayne's fault that the current kidnapping/genius plan of destruction was put on temporary hold; he can't control every yahoo in Metro City trying to make a villainous name for his self. This time, it was a disgruntled demolition worker, apparently newly unemployed, who had strapped himself and some hapless screaming woman up with more than a few bricks of C4. It was a situation that called for a something a little more delicate than Metro Man's usual 'grab and bag' style, and it was taking a bit longer than expected.

Clang!

Inhaling and exhaling very slowly, Roxanne tries to calm herself and reason what has her jaw clenched and eyes narrowed so venomously at her captor: Was it the fact that her being here, tied to a chair, meant she was watching some second-string reporter catch the top story of most likely the month? Was it the fact that she knew if pretty much anyone other than Wayne may have had this issue already sorted out and done with, therefore wrapping up this disaster of a kidnapping? Or was it the simple fact that she had had a pretty rough morning following her 'night out on the town' with a few of her girlfriends (the few she was able to keep due to the blue bobble head's habit of scooping her up without so much as a heads up), therefore making her poor head just a tad sensitive to bright lights (score one for the spotlights currently aimed at her) and loud-

CLANG!

"Oooookay, we are done with the wrench Megamind! For the love of all that is quiet and peaceful in this world that apparently does not exist inside these walls… Please. Stop."

The outburst, so completely uncharacteristic and unexpected, was enough to turn both aliens' heads and to stop the now silent brainbots in their little floaty tracks, every eye stalk trained on her. It was almost comical to watch, Megamind glancing at Minion, Minion to Megamind, Megamind to brainbots, all at a loss as to what to do, as a seething Roxanne glared with unmasked violence at the very nervous villain. Assessing it was most likely in his best interest to acquiesce to his captive (just this once, of course), he motions with a jerk of his head to the brainbots to get out while they could. Without hesitation, the pack zooms off as quickly –and quietly- as mechanically possible.

Left alone with the agitated reporter, the two aliens fidget nervously for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Slightly abashed by her display and the way it put the two of them on edge, she sighs wearily, loathe to break the silence, however tense it might be.

"Don't take it personally Megahead, I just have a bit of a hangover at the moment and I couldn't take that horrible racket any more. So please, regale me with your ingenious plan of the evening that will surely bring about Metro Man's destruction and leave me a helpless, screaming mess, and let's ignore that little scene, shall we?"

Judging by the affronted way he scowls at her, she assumes her sarcastic ribbing had the effect she'd hoped for.

"My apologies, Miss Ritchi, but I don't see how poor decisions on your part should constitute accommodation on mine. I am neither sympathetic, nor am I a charity that goes around granting wishes and happy feelings. I'm also not overly sure I appreciate the obvious sarcasm in regards to my ingenious plan, no matter how correct you might be on its imminent success." Crossing his arms and turning his back to her petulantly, she half expects him to turn around to stick his tongue out at her.

"Well, your poor decisions constantly require my accommodation, so you can just consider this a small way of reciprocating the generosity I show you often enough." She could almost see him mentally deflate, if only a measure. Potshots at his consistent failures are hardly a challenge to come up with, but as she is not really at the top of her game at the moment, they will have to do.

"Today hardly counts as a poor decision on my part, as I am the one who has been so rudely inconvenienced at the moment. Really, your boyfriend has no sense of pree-orities! Though, I guess you can't blame him much; I too would do what I could to stave off my guaranteed demise if given the chance. But to drag his lovely reporter girlfriend down with him, now that's just selfish!" He tuts as he shakes his head disapprovingly, a smarmy look on his face that was meant to goad her. If the whole 'girlfriend' bit had been true, maybe it would have, but as it stands, she just shrugs indifferently.

"Statistically, it can't be your fault all the time I guess. Though it happens often enough, the least you can do is offer up some sort of distraction. I mean at this point, I'd take the psychological torture that is your pre-disaster monologue over dull silence or that stupid wrench." Oh yes, potshots abound today, no service charge. With eyes narrowed and nostrils flared in agitation, he very nearly stomps over to her, hands on hips in defiance.

"As I've stated, I'm neither a charity nor a wish granter, but if it will keep us from having to be witness to another of your embaahhhrrassing fits, I will humor you this once. So, pray tell, how can your horrifying captor entertain you? Puppet show maybe, or perhaps a board game?" The mocking tone was coupled well with the scathing look he offers her. "Minion, maybe you and I can work on a ventriloquist act! Wouldn't that be just adooorable?!"

A timid squeak was the henchfish's immediate response, caught off guard being dragged into their bantering. A slight blush graces his scaly cheeks, simply because he half way agrees with Miss Ritchi. He is a provider, and even though she isn't his charge, it is in his nature to want to make sure those he considers friends (one could say she was a friend, or as close as they had to one) were at least comfortable, or as much as one can be when kidnapped and tied to a chair to have some weapon of doom focused on you. Minion knew he was expected to back up Sir, but looking at the physically distressed reporter, he approaches it from the middle ground.

"Well Sir, as enjoyable as that sounds, I'm not sure the world's ready for that sort of excitement. But maybe Miss Ritchi's idea isn't without a slight bit of merit? If nothing else, it would show your ability to be unpredictable and adaptable to the unexpected, wouldn't it?" Grinning toothily, he hopes the underhanded use of his supposed 'predictability' isn't taken offensively. Sometimes it sucks trying to play for both sides when it came to their bickering.

Pursing his blue lips in thought, Megamind looks apprehensively at his partner. "Very well, my finned friend, what would you suggest? Or how about you, my needy reporter, any input on our budding entertainment shed-ool?" Biting her tongue on the 'needy' remark, since this was getting ridiculous enough to be entertaining itself, she considers for a moment.

"Gee, how about charades, as you're already pretty good at being overly dramatic and a showboat?" A quiet growl and a look of utter exasperation is his initial response.

"Hardly fitting of my genius or my e-vuhl ways Miss Ritchi, but your appreciation for my skills is duly noted." Now it was Roxanne's turn to scowl at the smug look on his face. A metallic snap of Minion's fingers directs their attention to his apparent moment of inspiration.

"Oh, what about 20 questions?! That would showcase your genius pretty well Sir, don't you think?" This time it's Roxanne that shoots an idea down.

"Maybe another day Minion, but my head is a jumbled pile of mush today. How about something a little more straight forward?" Worrying his top lip between his fanged underbite, he considers it for a moment. His eyes gleam with the next suggestion when it comes, and one balled fist meets with its flattened mate, insinuating that the little fish felt this was most likely the perfect answer.

"Got it, Truth or Dare! Very villainous with the dare aspect, and Miss Ritchi will be pleased with the information from the truth aspect! Everyone wins!" Even Minion's excited grin wasn't enough to convince his boss, feeling that the 'truth' aspect couldn't bode well for him in the hands of his nosy reporter, but at catching Roxanne's immediate stiffening and sense of unease out of his peripheral, he took pause. He rarely if ever saw the crafty woman nervous or anxious, so what is it about a silly game that would invoke this in her? It was enough to make him reconsider. He walked the last few feet between them and halts mere inches from her, head cocked to the side in contemplation as he absently strokes his sleek goatee.

"Miss Ritchi, you seem a bit nervous. Whatever for, I wonder. Surely, the potential to feed your seemingly insatiable need to ask me your nosy questions would far outweigh any fear you may have over a possible dare. But no, you're Roxanne Ritchi; you run into battles and disaster areas and the likes with nary a second thought." Bending over to face her directly, forcing her to make eye contact that she was desperately trying to avoid, she shifts her focus to the end of his nose instead, hardly a hair's breadth between the two. "No, it's something else entirely. Perhaps my little reporter has her own see-krets she would prefer to keep to herself? How interesting…"

Deep blue eyes immediately snap onto electric green ones, the anxiety once again palpable. Whatever it is, it's GOOD, he thinks excitedly. A face splitting grin settles upon his visage as he straightens fully before sauntering back to his chair, seating himself with fingers steepled beneath his chin and wearing a look that promised she was going to regret complaining about his shortcomings as a host.