UnNews:Nothing Can Stop Me Now
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|This article is part of UnNews||Where man always bites dog|
28 June 2008
Secret Lab, Antarctica- You poor fools. Little do you know that the world as you know it is about to end. I wanted to tell you first, because I know how you like to be kept in the loop.
My plan began like any plan does: as a cute little baby in the idea-hospital. It was my baby, and it chuckled and giggled at me through the hospital-window thingy in that room they keep the newborns in. That was but 13 years ago.
Now my plan has finally come to fruition. After 4,287 steps in a very long process, my plan is finally complete. Oh, oh, my plan is so complete. The fools at the university where I was part of the custodial staff LAUGHED when I said I wuz sm4rt! They won't be laughing after their precious... well, I shouldn't give away my plan just yet.
I remember the first step: naming my plan. I spent four months deciding on a name. Yes, when PLAN X: SUPER-GOD MASTERFORCE is unleashed upon you pathetic miscreants, there won't be a single building taller than 400 feet left standing.
Oh, step #297, when I purchased the robots. The robots would do anything I told them to do that doesn't require manual labor. Oh, I chuckled with glee when I looked into their cute little eyes. Um, after I found out I had bought puppies instead of robots, I had to change my plan slightly: but still, an army of thousands and thousands of puppies is nothing to sneeze at! Aunt Mildred sneezed quite a bit, but that's because she was allergic... I really should move her body out of the kitchen...
Training the puppies in step #1,492 was a masterpiece of dog obedience: the likes of which the world has never seen before or since! When my puppy minions flushed all the toilets at the United Nations simultaneously, creating a plumbing problem so catastrophic that it gave my walrus minions time to retrieve the secret plans, I was cackling and chortling at the U.N.'s misfortunes. By the time the toilet issue had been resolved, they discovered the plans were gone!
What were the plans, you ask? Why, to genetically engineer a brand of oatmeal cereal to solve world hunger! When they were finally in my possession, step #1,493 in my very elaborate and ingenious plan was complete! The oatmeal, once charged in my radioactive bombardment chamber mentioned in step #560, was fed to my walrus army (by my puppy army, on little trays! OH they were so CUTE! I could have died, seriously: I. Could. Have. Died).
My superwalruses were now capable of anything! After draining the local ecosystem of fish, and after beating up all the polar bears, it was only a matter of time before the beaches were swarming with biologists, looking for solutions. Little did they know that my superwalruses caused the entire catastrophe! Wait, did I already tell you that? I'm sorry, it kind of lost its sting after that, didn't it?
I've never been good at mad speeches. I took classes in Mad Night School, but I just couldn't make the grade. Oh, they said I was mad in Mad Night School, they said I was MAD! ...but not mad enough to pass. I'll show them: I'll show THEM ALL! I'LL-- I'LL, uh-- I'LL SHOW THEM AAALLLL!!
*ahem* After I captured several dozen biologists for ransom, step #2,746 of my diabolical plan was nearly complete. The ransom money and their biological data on the ecosystem was enough for me to buy the land necessary to build the ultimate weapon: A BIG LAZOR BEAM!!!!
After I owned my own little arctic ice shelf, I began work. Steps #2,988 through #3,450 detail my progress in buying all the tools and thingies necessary to build it. When I found out that I couldn't build a death cannon or whatever by myself in minus 100 degree weather, I found I had to go back to my old standby: FLUSHING ALL THE TOILETS AT THE UNITED NATIONS SIMULTANEOUSLY!
Following the flushing of all the toilets at the United Nations simultaneously a dozen more times, and offering each successive wave of janitors jobs in the arctic, I found that, at last, step number 3,451 of my plan was nearly complete.
Oh, but that superhero Doctor Good was always messing up my plans! Steps 4 through 970 were indirectly resolved on destroying him. What was his catch phrase? Let's Clean This Shit Up Before It Gets Out Of Hand!? What sense did THAT make? And another thing, if I was a superhero, I would find a better disguise than just putting on a lab coat and putting on spandex wrestling pants. A lab coat slash cowboy outfit would have suited him far better.
Well, after a couple hundred more steps, my
doom ray death cannon is complete. Sadly, there's nothing to shoot down here in Antarctica, but no matter: it will only be a single decade before my LAZOR channeling satellites are in orbit, and THEN we'll see! THEN WE'LL SEE!
As for you, Doctor Good, I hope you're reading this article on this humor wiki. I have several "items" of yours that you may want back. If you want to see your precious purple dildo alive, send a money order for $500 to P.O. box 9, Albequerque, NM by midnight! HAHAHAHAHA!