BOB JOHNSON RIDES AGAIN! 211
211. EVIL IS AS EVIL DOES
211. EVIL IS AS EVIL DOES
The first day at a new job is always a bit nerve wracking, but when you really like that job and the people you work for–it’s especially nerve wracking! You want to impress them all so much!
“Ernst Blofeld, evil genius, reporting for duty, Captain Spaulding. This is my evil manx cat, Sonny Bono (“Miaow!”), and that over there, well, she’s playing it a bit holier than thou, if you catch my drift. That’s my goody-two-shoes dog, Violet Fondue, knitting a sweater for homeless people or some goddamn thing like that. Now I want you to know, Captain, that I take evil very seriously, and whatever evil things need doing, I’m the man you can call on to do them. Burn down an orphanage? Torture baby kittens? Teach babies to drink alcohol? Bribe the USPS to make a commemorative stamp featuring images of Jeff Bezos and/or Mark Zuckerberg? I’m quite up to all these tasks and more! So what is it, Captain Spaulding? Want me to break into people’s houses and shoot them in their beds if they resist? Drive an I.C.E van? What, my Captain, O my Captain Spaulding! What? Let me help and put my innate evil-doerness to bad use! I’m begging you!”
When Ernst Blofeld stopped talking, the only sound in the entire headquarters–which had been carved deep inside an extinct volcano way up in the San Gabilan Mountains–was the persistent clicking and clacking of Violet Fondue’s exaspterating knitting needles. But then, finally, even this sound stopped, and Captain Spaulding pulled himself to attention, saluted a huge photo of Donald Trump on one wall, and demanded: “There’s only one thing we need from you right now, Evil genius! And that’s a THC-infused blueberry muffin from Fuzzy Peepers! Now step on it!”
“What, my Captain, O my Captain Spaulding! What? Let me help and put my innate evil-doerness to bad use! I’m begging you!”
When Ernst Blofeld stopped talking, the only sound in the entire headquarters–which had been carved deep inside an extinct volcano way up in the San Gabilan Mountains–was the persistent clicking and clacking of Violet Fondue’s exaspterating knitting needles. But then, finally, even this sound stopped, and Captain Spaulding pulled himself to attention, saluted a huge photo of Donald Trump” —wait does it bother you, it does me, that Violet just keeps on knitting —while master Blofield bloviates his evil spew? Man’s best friend sure? But has Violet no shame? And that pause in the clicking and clacking of needles… well that can’t be good… some foreshadowing to the evils to come?
Violet Fondue, that goody two-shoes dog