The morning after my last entry was my first day with the local criminals and I soon discovered that "criminals" was a generous term for the band of mismatched morons with whom I share the dingy warehouse. To begin with they insisted I wear a uniform.
A brown uniform. Now I'm not a demanding man but .ANY villain worth his salt will tell you that BROWN is not the colour of evil!
Wood = brown = not evil. Chocolate = brown = not evil. Soil = brown = NOT BLOODY EVIL.
Black. Black is all I ask for. Brown clashes with my soul and does nothing for my skin-tone. Even red would be okay. Or green. A nice serpentine green has an air of menace but BROWN! I digress....
Is this the council? Our bins haven't been emptied in weeks and I've bodies to dispose of.
Once I'd "accidentally" set fire to the uniform store and the house of the woman who supplies them I was asked to go to the local gym and borrow a few exercise machines. I jogged down and the girl on the desk soon told me where I would find the relevant key codes (note to self - those changing room benches are perfect for water boarding).
Once the treadmills were loaded I was ready to head home when I realised I didn't have a cab fare on me. I could have walked but the sun was rising and my complexion just wouldn't stand for such prolonged exposure. Always resourceful I borrowed some car keys from a gentleman's trousers as he showered and relieved him of his new car.
Whilst a far cry from my dear old Bentley it would do for now once I'd resprayed it and wiped its former owner's memory.
The motley crew at work were so impressed by both my excellent heist and my extracurricular thievery that I was promoted the very next day.
With this increased salary and my new car I decided the time had come for me to find a woman worthy of my bloodline. Beauty was a must and whilst I supposed that true evil was too much to ask a propensity to wickedness would certainly be preferred.
I'd seen a "Park-Picnic Speed-Dating Extravaganza" advertised for the weekend so when Saturday rolled around I polished my magnificent skull and headed out to find a woman.
I arrived a little early and sat down to play a little chess, I must say its not nearly so much fun without the pieces obliterating one another, the thrill of crushing an opponent only metaphorically lacks the visceral excitement of bloodshed.
I was soon joined by an exceptionally plain woman in the most hideous outfit I have had the misfortune to be confronted with. After I beat her in six moves she looked uncomfortably at her repulsive shoes and introduced herself as Fiona or Florence or something.
Realising she was here for the same speed dating event I briskly informed her that she didn't meet my requirements and advised her to seek styling advice. As I turned to leave she seemed to be crying but I suppose that's understandable, knowing that she will never see what lies under these robes is a depressing thought.
The afternoon was long, tedious and seemed to be devoid of promise. I quickly deduced that most attendees were simply beneath me, easily pleased, low-bred creatures who I could barely bring myself to speak to. At least I was quickly ruling out swathes of the population, my hate list was growing with every dumpy broad who enthused about house music and baking.
This one was so desperate she put the "ho" in horcrux.
The other gentlemen gave me dirty looks, cowed by my luminosity and presence no doubt, and I was even forced to cast a small hex on a man claiming to be Fiona (or Florence or whatever's) brother. When he tried to remove me for "being insensitive" I informed him that his sister was lucky to be endowed with such valuable advice given her demeanour.
This was the point at which he tried to punch me and my hand was forced. The pustules will fade eventually and I hope he won't cross me again.
Mind control always was a strength of mine.
Things seemed to be looking up when I met Blair Wainwright who had an aristocratic grace to her but as I began to outline my plans for domination and her potential role, she recoiled. The woman then had the audacity to question the necessity of mass kitten sacrifice to my plan and I saw that she would never embrace the darkness and be happy in my shadow.
I was about to give up when an unlikely woman caught my eye. I had discounted her because of her maid's outfit but I saw her looking disgustedly at a canoodling couple in matching sweaters nearby and I felt compelled to introduce myself.
Avoiding the stench of desperation pouring off the other attendees.
Kate was her name and we passed a wonderful half and hour eviscerating the other attendees, so stupid and small-minded that they believed flirtatious giggling and obvious muscle flexing would earn them a partner. I was about to ask if she might want to go out some time when she suddenly made an excuse and left. As I watched her go I could have sworn I saw her slide something into her pocket after a staged collision with a wealthy looking gentleman. Perhaps I imagined it.
I was musing on the possibility of Kate when I noticed a beautiful woman playing chess alone. Sitting down across from her I introduced myself and she reluctantly agreed to play one game with me.
Her icy manner was refreshing after all the simpering and we debated many things as we played. As I forced her into a checkmate she gave a grudging smile and told me her name was Zara, that she'd only come along because her friend had begged. Despite this worrying sensitivity to the feelings of others I could see a calculating mind behind those eyes and I gave her my number, hoping that perhaps we'd meet again.
Bored now of the company of others and wishing to contemplate the days happenings I retreated to the closed off area where the refreshments sat. Stealing a snow-cone I sat on the bench and mused on my day. Perhaps there was a vassal for evil in Sunset Valley dreaming of me that very moment - I was sure I'd left an impression.
Mmmmm - Cold just like my heart.
