Good day, ladies and the odd gentleman reader (and from the pictures I have seen on this site, very odd indeed).
Allow me to introduce myself, I am Dr. Miguelito Loveless, world famous mad scientist, professional nemesis and 74th level shaman in World of Warcraft.
Some of you may be familiar with my early work in the in the 1870s as the arch-nemesis of Secret Service agents James West and Artemis Gordon, perpetual obstacles to my plans for global domination. (If you are wondering how I could still be in the villain business 130 years later, I kindly ask you what part of “mad scientist” are you failing to understand?)
After West and Gordon retired, I was at a loss for worthy opponents (Professor Moriarty and I had a “no poaching” agreement, so Sherlock Holmes was off the table), and went into semi-retirement, puttering around in my lab, and occasionally mentoring the next generation’s leaders in the field of world domination.
I turned to furthering my education for a bit in the 1920s attending Miskatonic University and acquiring degrees in Advanced Mad Science, Things Man Was Not Meant to Know, and Quantum Metaphysics. I then went from student to teacher, taking posts at such distinguished academic institutions as Scooby Doo U. (where I taught Intermediate and Advance Meddling For Kids), and the Microsoft Institute of Crappy Technology (where I taught Telephone Support 560: Ignoring the Ringing Phone).
In the early 60s I went to work for S.P.E.C.T.R.E. as the senior researcher responsible for building devices to kill British secret agents in creative and grisly fashions. In the mid 70s I was the Senior Mind Control Specialist for the Muzak Corporation, but resigned after a month because even I was not that evil. After that I did a stint as the Director Emeritus for the Legion of Doom, but got fed up listening to Lex Luthor and Braniac bicker, and so it was back to freelance villainy and teaching. (I currently hold the Frankenstein Chair of Mad Science at Hooterville Community College.)
Okay, so by now you are wondering what a distinguished, sinister rogue such as myself is doing on a blog like Mind Over Mullis, which normally features the humorous musings and witty anecdotes of a mature (yet still very fetching) mother, wife, and devoutly nice person such as Amy Mullis?
Ms. Mullis, realizing that she had to take some time off from her normal blogging duties to participate in National Novel Writing Month, decided to find a worthy substitute to keep the punters entertained in her absence.
Thus she gave a call to her support group, Mothers Against Delinquent Sons.
Unfortunately, Amy recalled the phone number somewhat imperfectly (commercial cleanser fumes play merry Heck with long term memory functions) and dialed (800) 555-MADS, instead of (888) 555-MADS.
This is when my phone rang, in my office at the Malevolent Association of Demented Scientists and I found myself talking to this soft spoken and charming young woman (Did I say “mature”? Bah! Who am I to call anyone “mature”, I am 149 years old!), who offered me this job.
My initial impulse, enchanting though she was, was to decline the offer. After all, I did have a Zombie Apocalypse brewing in the crock pot, but, as we say in the mad science biz, “evil minions don’t grow on trees.” (Actually, they grow in very expensive cloning tanks, and now they have a union and want dental and profit sharing!!)
So, here I am.
Of course, I have no intention of doing this all by myself. I shall palm off most of the hard work to one of my minions who is bucking for Toady First Class. He will do it and like it, since his only other choice is a nasty death at the hands of a wiseacre British secret agent who will make it all the more undignified by cracking some vile pun as he dispatches him.
I will also be able to secure the services of the fellow that Amy refers to as “The Captain”, since little does she know that he has a dark and secret past as a colleague of mine, known as Kindly Old Doctor Bill!!!
Uh, did I just say that out loud?
One of the problems of being a mad scientist/arch-villain is the genetic defect that causes us to reveal our plans to people before we kill them, which lets them figure a way out of our death trap and allows them to thwart us.
Just forget I said anything. Please?
Oh, and before I go, does anyone have a cup of anti-matter I could borrow? I am fresh out.