[out of character]
Sake, that last post was balls funny. 5.0 ragtop stormcloud? Ah, I wipe away a tear of mirth.
[/out of character]
Sure is lonely in my mountain fortress…sigh
Lux, I’ve seen yer pic…perhaps I could be persuaded to visit you in that fortress. 
Perhas for some sexy secret agent training or something…
[diabolical aside]
Excellent. My plan to join the LoD in order to meet chicks is working to perfection.
[/diabolical aside]
Feel free to visit the mountain fortress any time, Falcon. Tell the Sherpas at the base that Lux sent ya…
SIR I hate to report this but there is a giant naked Japanese man outside and he is pointing his uhhh thing at all the women. I don’t know how to deal with this it isn’t listed in my manual. Wait, put me down, put me down. No not the garbage can again. sigh Try to instill a little discipline and see what happens. Sometimes being on the side of wrong just sucks.
Swimming, I like that whole static electricity thing you got going on. Very nice.
When you have a sec, come over here - I’ve been working on a similar plan, only it involves flushing every single one of the 400+ toilets in the Pentagon to make it all higgeldy-piggeldy!*
Oh, and Odieman, I’ll take care of that naked Japanese man for you… {heh heh heh} 
Esprix
[*“Higgeldy-piggeldy” means “a real mess!”]
…“Hello, doom, how’s the wife and kids?”
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been sent to disable the Legion of Doom™ by killing this thread. It’s not a particularly big talent, or anything. I’ve just noticed that anytime I post to a thread, it tends to die off after just a few more posts. Makes one feel wanted, doesn’t it?
OK, so it’s not like a well-developed statistical trend, or anything, but here goes…<cracks knuckles>
Did I ever tell you about the time I met Bob Barker?
Bob Barker, star of the most popular morning game show. He’s an emcee, a host and a celebrity all rolled into one. Anyway, eight months ago, it was Tuesday the 17th, I believe, or it might have been the 18th – no, no, it was definitely the 17th, because it was precisely one week after my Aunt Lucretia’s birthday, which is the 10th. Aunt Lucretia’s quite a woman – loves to cook. She prepares a fabulous Washuf – that’s a Chinese duck dish. I love Chinese food. I once went to a party where they served Chinese food and cheese balls. Now that was a Catch-22 situation. Catch-22 was a movie, you know. It was long – VERY long. They say the book was better, but it was a novel, and I never finish reading those things. Of course, a lot of people don’t read much nowadays; they watch television. I caught a program on PBS last night – a very good show on chimpanzees in the media. They had a clip of J. Fred Mug and a chimp on the Today Show, but it was Fred’s chimpanzee’s girlfriend that had me stumped. I couldn’t remember her name, so I looked it up. Her name was Fibi B. Bibi.
Anyway, as I was saying, eight months ago, Tuesday the 17th, I went downtown on a nice relaxing stroll. I love to relax. In fact, relaxing is a hobby of mine. Some people play golf, others like tennis, horseshoes, bridge, canasta, and other such fancy hobbies. Now another hobby enjoyed by many is knitting. My grandmother was a great knitter – knitted this sweater I’m wearing. It’s red, which is not my favorite color. I prefer mauve or a mustard yellow. Now, don’t get me wrong, red is o.k. for ties and suspenders, but with sweaters I prefer more neutral colors. But when I’m relaxing, I don’t care WHAT I wear – long pants, bermuda shorts, t-shirts, or formal attire, you name it – anything goes. Now, on the 17th, during my relaxing stroll, I recall wearing my herringbone jacket, my Laughlin, Nevada souvenir tie, and my charcoal grey slacks – or was it the navy slacks? Oh, I suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it? What matters is comfort.
You know, I once stayed at a Comfort Inn – warm, cozy, comfortable. I love comfort. It goes along with that pastime of mine – relaxing. Now, for me, there’s nothing more relaxing than a nice leisurely stroll like the one I took eight months ago on the 17th. It was a bright, sunny day, which of course is the optimum condition for relaxed strolling. And as I walked along, I found myself humming a haunting melody. I kept humming and humming and humming and humming. I couldn’t get the tune out of my head. I racked my brain to come up with the title, but to no avail. You see, I’m not terribly musical – and yet, I’d always wanted to play a musical instrument and be like my musical hero, Leo Sayer. But who can compete with Leo? I think I was just scared I’d fail.
Well, I decided right then and there to go buy a musical instrument. So on the particular Tuesday the 17th to which I was referring, I went down to the Sixth Street Musical Emporium to buy a new tambourine, a terribly soothing instrument contrary to popular opinion. And as I was strolling along, I detected a wonderful scent in the morning air. “What could it be?” I asked myself. So I went toward that marvelous scent, distracted by its aroma from my musical mission. The odor was a mix of orchid flowers and bologna, which, of course, is one of the world’s most underappreciated luncheon meats – that and pimento loaf. I love a good pimento-loaf-and-mayo sandwich – the more pimentos, the better. Why just the mention of pimentos makes my taste buds stand up and say “Howdy”.
Now there’s an interesting word – “howdy”. Is it from “How are you?”, or maybe “How ya doing?” “Howdy”'s one of those strange words that really HAS no origin. I like saying, “How do” more than “Howdy” – more formal, I think – not too flowery. But the flowery aroma of that particular Tuesday morning carried me on my fragrant quest. Now, the smell was actually less bologna and more orchid, the beautiful flower found on the island state of Hawaii. Of course, I wasn’t in Hawaii, so I needed to search out the location of the nearest orchid. So, I visited every flower shop in town. Well, to make a long story short, not a SINGLE flower shop in town had ANY orchids in stock, which seemed mighty curious to me.
Now, as we all know, curiosity killed the cat, but since I’m not feline, I wasn’t too worried. Felines are funny creatures, don’t you think? I had a cat once. It used its claws to tear my living room couch to shreds. It was a comfy couch, too – had a sleepaway bed in it with a foam rubber mattress. Now, I bought the couch AND the mattress at Levine’s department store on Third Avenue the very same afternoon of that relaxing stroll aforementioned. I also bought myself a lovely tambourine on that same shopping expedition. Anyway, I didn’t want to pay extra for the delivery of the couch, so I decided to carry the couch home myself. It was quite cumbersome, and getting it through the store’s revolving doors was a bit of a challenge. And just as I emerged onto the street, by accident I bumped into a well-dressed man with an orchid in his lapel. It was Bob Barker, and he was eating and bologna-and-cheese-ball sandwich. Well, it’s been nice chatting with you. Bye!
bump!
Lexicon…Lexxxxxxxicon…
This is your conscience speaking…
Bugger of…sue for terms now, while you have the chance.
Sake,
May I please have your spleen? You don’t really need it, and Swiddles is quite the whiz with a needle and thread so the scar will be ever so tiny! I’ll make sure she gives you anesthetic and I’ll even be there to hold your hand when you wake.
Please?
While you’re making your decision, is there anything I can do for you?
Sue Duhnym
It’s been awhile, but I believe the proper response to this is, “Thank you. Sit down.”
Now what straight male could turn that down?
Sue, the spleen, along with anything else you want, will be delivered to you in two days’ time. We will meet at midnight. You know the place.
Oh Mighty Master Lexicon, here is your latte and your dry-cleaning.
I must say, oh Evil One, that the Legion of Doom seems to be shaping up nicely. Entirely due to your inspirering leadership and skillfully written manual, of course, Master.
Anything else you require, Master? No? Then I shall endevor to find more janitors to take over cleaning the toilets so that I may serve you better.
…may I suggest enlisting Ink Blot? I think there is a whole realm of torture that he/she has mastered. Perhaps thread killing is the least of Ink Blot’s talents…why, left alone in a small, cold, poorly-lit cell…who knows what he/she could do with a subject? We could certainly use the help in our department.
Many humble thanks
struuter
Lux, now I really like you. Anyone who knows “Bloom County” is cool by me. arrives at bottom of mountain fortress
Bingo! Poor Binkley…
“For that, your death will be swift and painless!” - Stewie, “Family Guy”
Esprix
If you dont want to recruit InkBlot, O Evil One (although I must say struuter’s idea has merit), can I have him and peel the skin off him?
Failing that, I await my next assignment, sir!
Oh, and to whom do I submit my receipts for reimbursement? This one from the auto shop in particular Id really like reimbursed as soon as possible - have you any idea how expensive it is getting a VW pumpernickel van turned into a Machine of Terror (especially one that can do anything over 65 mph)?
If you dont want to recruit InkBlot, O Evil One (although I must say struuter’s idea has merit), can I have him and peel the skin off him?
Failing that, I await my next assignment, sir!
Oh, and to whom do I submit my receipts for reimbursement? This one from the auto shop in particular Id really like reimbursed as soon as possible - have you any idea how expensive it is getting a VW pumpernickel van turned into a Machine of Terror (especially one that can do anything over 65 mph)?
tradesilicon, your latest barrage was most impressive! However, I used my patented Abyssmal Poetry Transmorgifier to take the vast kinetic energy stored in that horrid meter and simple AABB rhyme scheme, and convert it into useful solid matter: BEHOLD MY NEW TROUSERS!
Lux, My amusing hilarity was a ploy to distract you while thousands of my Wingless Hopping Crows infiltrated your fortress. Even as we speak, they are gathering every shiny object you own - that was not their mission, but they are easily distracted and not very reliable.
Inkblot, I have been having a bit of trouble dozing off lately, due to latent guilt from my latest evil deed (pushing all the buttons on the elevator before exiting), and I thank you for putting me right to sleep.
Sue, you ask so very nice for my spleen, but. . .I don’t think I could do it without demanding one of your ovaries. . .wait a mnnnit, did jou putt zomething in me drink?. . .not feeeling so ggooood. . .whats dat nife doing here. . .:face falls into soup:
"…I used my patented Abyssmal Poetry Transmorgifier to take the vast kinetic energy stored in that horrid meter and simple AABB rhyme scheme, and convert it into useful solid matter: BEHOLD MY NEW TROUSERS!
Darn, I can’t believe I fell for that old trick! What’s next, the Cone of Silence? I’ll have to start coding my stuff so you can’t use the damn APT anymore.
Here ya go, see if you can deal with this one:
The third post from the left.
Wednesday, after 2
ruf, ruf!
Evil One, I need an assistant! Between Sake-san and Fool, I have no time to carry out critical security functions - I have yet to strip-search 99% of the innocent looking spies! BTW, with all the time Falcon spent in the LoH is it a good idea to let her run around here without anyone checking for, well, you know, hidden devices! I’ll deal with it if you like! 
Just for verification…YOU will be doing these ‘strip searches’–correct?
For security reasons I cannot let just anyone strip search me…