What's your supervillainy rampage?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I may be straying a little bit close to Skald territory, after all, this is the kind of thing he usually likes to post about. Nevertheless, if he has a problem with it, he can fight me in a duel to the death. On the moon. Over a pool of sharks.

…

Everybody has some things that bug them in a very deep, personal, and unbearable way; something perhaps minor, or even major, that is exponentially magnified when it might be a tiny annoyance to everybody else. It could be that you hate people who cut you off in traffic and desire to punish offenders ironically by cutting off half their arms and legs, or crush them to death in their car.

Mine is cilantro. Can’t stand it. There has never been a good piece of cilantro grown or made ever in the entire history of the world or its future history. In restaurants, if they put cilantro in the dish, I would spend the first 10 minutes picking it out. Ever leaf and stem must be gone, and I’ve spat out mouthfuls of food where I accidently bite into a piece of missed cilantro. I can’t stand the smell of it, the taste of it, or even the look of it with those odd, complicated leaves. Even in foods that I will eat with cilantro in it, I don’t eat it because it accents the taste, like tomatos, but rather the taste is masked.

If I were a supervillain, I’d eradicate all cilantro from the entire god damn planet. I literally do not give one singular fuck how many farmers it harms, or how many countries’ GDP it affects, or if cilantro has some kind of medical properties that will save mankind from some future pandemic. All cilantro must be destroyed. If Mexican food has to be destroyed with it, so be it.

I will punish offenders who dare to stand up to me by force-feeding them cilantro until they puke, then forcing them to eat that puke. I’ll keep doing it until they either die or say aloud that they hate cilantro and everything it stands for. Then I’ll just kill them. Of course, that means I’ll have to keep a stash of cilantro handy for punishment, but I’ll have bio-engineered them to taste like something other than cooked turds.

I’d wear a costume that’s the opposite of green on the color chart, red or something. And I’d have my minions dress in one-piece bodysuits with a cilantro and a red “X” over it on their chests. Collateral damage to other crops are acceptable as I fly over cilantro crops and torch them with napalm and flamethrowers.

What supervillainy rampage would you go on if you could?

2

It’s a minor super villain rampage, but I have spent hours in holiday traffic jams on the Mass Pike plotting my revenge.

In the middle of the night, polite but business-like costumed henchman would pull up to the tolls at the intersection of the Mass Pike and I-84. They would request, in terms that brooked no refusal, that the toll takers take an extended break. Communications would be cut and cell phones would be jammed.

Then the earth moving equipment would move in. I suppose, in proper super villain style, I should be piloting the largest bulldozer and laughing maniacally. In 15 minutes, the toll booths are gone and in 30, the area is paved over and re-lined. (Super villains can afford (or steal) all the best road-building equipment. )

We then disappear into the night using typical super villain stealth helicopters (because, ironically, all this road building has caused massive traffic jams). Also, ironically, I never realize that owning a super villain stealth helicopter makes traffic jams caused by toll collectors pretty much irrelevant.

3

I cannot stand acoustic guitarists who just play the same chords over and over again. As a general rule, I despise all musicians who don’t make an effort to develop their technique, but acoustic guitarists are the worst offenders because there are so many of them. How can you possibly be satisfied knowing that you have only skimmed the surface of the surface of the skill ocean? Why the fuck are you wasting my time by playing your goddamn chords?

If I reigned supreme, every guitarist would have to receive a permit before performing in public. If you are caught performing without a permit, I won’t bother executing you, I’ll just punch you in the dick and/or as hard as I can.

In order to secure a permit, you must demonstrate the ability to play three randomly chosen scales in two octaves at a minimum tempo of 8 notes per second. If the musician can only play 8-n per second, I will catapult n kittens directly at his face. If he can’t play any scales at all, I will catapult a bobcat directly at his face.

I will then reach into a bag of cards, each of which has a prime number ranging from 5 to 17, and ask the musician to construct a passage with a time signature whose top number matches the number I’ve drawn. The musician will be waterboarded for every failed attempt until they either succeed or sell their guitar on eBay.

4

I just want sharp spines that project from my body like porcupine quills so people won’t keep touching me when I commute.

5

Westboro Baptist Church forced to host a Judy Garland retrospective. Any snide or rude comment will result in force-feeding of a random Phelps to a pack of hungry, rabid, boll weevils.

Film at 11.

6

There ain’t no pools of water on the moon.

Listen, Cilantro Hater, the way to fight Skald is brickbats at 100 feet, while I’m in a building behind him with a 30.06 and a scope.
Pay attention, there will be a test on Tuesday.
And send me your cilantro. Everyone will be happy.

Oh, the OP.
I’ll do something to folks who refer to the LAN as “the internet”.
Probably with a 30.06 and a scope. Or maybe cilantro.

7

How is that villainous?

8

Villains are allowed to fight one another. I have no doubt that Dr. Doom has long since murdered the Marvel version of Phelps, just for being tacky. And that when the Thing heard about said murder, he said, “You know something, Stretcho? I can’t even pretend to care.”

ETA: YogSosoth, how many times must I tell you not to telegraph your attacks?

9

He didn’t say anything about water. Just sharks.

10

Which obviously means dead sharks.

11

Mummy sharks.

12

Zombie sharks.

13

Dead sharks on the moon will still make most people shit their pants in terror, Skald included. The only way he can prevent shitting his pants is if he didn’t wear any

Speaking of pants, I have another annoyance I’d like to eradicate. I hate suits. Dress shirts, dress pants, shoes, any formal-wear really, but mostly the bland, formal men’s clothes that passes for high fashion in this masochistic society of ours.

After I destroy cilantro and the world cowers before me in horror, I move on to suits. All men’s suits will be burned in a bonfire so big you can see it from the moon, the better to light Skald’s shark-riddled corpse. Its not that I hate how they look, some of them look fine, if bland, but suits are so fucking uncomfortable. The man who made it must have been a tailor contractor for a dictator trying to find a new and horrible way to torture people. The first suit was probably made from the flayed skins of aborted fetuses, the first tie from the esophagus of a blind nun. Whenever I’m forced to wear one, I feel like I’m locked inside a cage.

“Well if you don’t like it, don’t wear one”, some unfortunate soul will say. After dipping him in molten lead for his insolence, I’ll turn to his survivors and explain calmly that it doesn’t matter if I won’t wear one, one is expected to wear it. No world in which I exist as a supervillain will have the apex formalwear for men be a suit. What if I want to retire someday after carving my genitals(faces are so cliched) into the south side of Mt. Everest? No matter if I become a CEO, some kind of ruler of a kingdom, or a fucking undertaker, I have to wear a suit because everyone else is wearing one. Well fuck that!

My minions, having grown strong from the lack of cilantro poisoning the air, will patrol the streets, the malls, the conference rooms, the bathrooms, and everywhere for men dressed in suits. It doesn’t matter if its a suit jacket, a dress shirt, those stupidly slippery shoes that doesn’t stay on your feet, or whatever, they will find the suit wearers. Then they will drag them screaming, because that’s the only way to be dragged, into the streets and publically execute them by pin-cushioning them in a clear plastic iron maiden to set an example. Suvivors will be forced to LICK the iron maiden clean because GOD DAMN IT, no suits!

Instead of suits, men’s fashion will be comfortable, sweat-based, and come with an optional cape. The cape will be built into the shirt and shoulder-mounted so there will be no strangulation like a tie. Your neck will not be uncomfortable in any way. Any man who wears those shoes with the girlish heels will be dealt with too, harshly. Men’s shoes will have no higher heels at all, period. If you wear one, your legs will be cut off and shoes stitched to your stumps of a thigh.

And Skald, god help you if you show up at our duel in a suit

14

Personally, I’m a big fan of wearing a towel wrapped around my waist.

It’s tough living in Canada sometimes.

15

With frickin’ laser beams!

16

<snipped>

OMG you must have heard my upstairs neighbor! Same damn chords over and over and over and over and over… Sort of sounds like the beginning of “Smoke on the Water” but not quite. Makes me wish I had a rocket launcher, except I’d just put a big hole in my ceiling.

Better yet, I’ll take that rocket launcher and strap it to my car. Then I’ll take out all the moronic drivers who slow down to 15mph the minute it starts sprinkling out. It’s rained every day in September, people. You oughta know how to drive in the rain by now!

17

Skald, I’m having second thoughts.
Gimme a call on the super duper top secret super modulator decoder ring thingie.

18

I’d either need superpowers, or an army of minions, but every stupid fucker caught driving 15 mph or more below the speed limit in the left lane of any road with two or more lanes going in the same direction of travel; would be pulled from their car and beaten with sticks until unconscious.

Then I’d crush cube their vehicle on site.

Bonus points for repeat action on any passing motorists who slow below that 15mph breakpoint to watch.

In some places we’d be there all day.

19

Hey you! Don’t try anything, I’ve got a shark with your name on it! Because I named him carnivorousplant. And he has a gun!

20

People that insist on standing on the left line of an escalator without any intention to move. People that walk (usually in zig zags) right on the middle of the walkway without leaving any space on either side to double them. People that stand right in front of the doors (either inside the wagon or right outside of it)when the metro parks, and dont move.

People.