Working for the Mad but Brilliant Dr. Armageddon

I'm not back....

Mon, 10 Apr 2006 05:58:42 GMT

I just thought this was appropriate. http://qntm.org/destroy

Sun, 16 Oct 2005 22:16:03 GMT

OK, I've basically abandoned updating this site. However, if anybody out there hasn't seen this, it is definitely appropriate to this journal. http://www.proft.org/tips/evil.html

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 04:33:28 GMT

It's blunt instrument week down at Murderama. I know a lot of you have been going to Slaughterhouse 54 on the weekends, and yeah, that place is cool once-in-awhile. But let's not forget the good times and close bloodlust-driven friendships we created around the spike pits at Murderama.

You all know how much I love blunt instrument week, and I'm really hoping you'll come out this weekend and try to remind yourselves how much you used to love it too. If you can't be troubled for my sake, then think of the children. And how defenseless they look in those little cages.

Sat, 09 Jul 2005 00:16:01 GMT

Tonight is unicorn steak night down at Mangler's Grill in alpha sector. It's the first time they've had it in a while due to the unicorn shortage. Hopefully I can get out of work early and get down there before they run out of prime rib. I'm also hoping I can get my old job at the unicorn slaughterhouse back. I got half my leg chewed off by a rabid wolverine while cleaning out some of the animal cages at the battle dome, and missed a week's pay. The job's not all it's cracked up to be.

If I can't get out of this battle dome job and back into the slaughterhouse, they're having a "calling all mooks" sign up for some sort of Mexican insurgency project. I'm seriously thinking about signing up. It'd be nice to get away from the undisclosed location for a while. Plus I wouldn't mind the slaughtering of innocents. Or the pina coladas.

The 2167th Annual Barbaric Horde Invitational Games

Thu, 16 Jun 2005 17:38:21 GMT

We entered a team into this year's games. We were up against some tough competition. There were Vikings, Tartars, Mongols, Zulus, and even a team of Aztec warlords. I was an alternate in the "spear toss through a helpless captive victim's abdomen" event. I spent most of my free time checking out tons of other events. Most beheadings in a minute, bone crushing, most exhaustive pillaging, creative torture administration, fastest construction of siege weaponry, most terrifying war paint, helmet cleaving, the baking championship, and infected wound maintenance were just a few of the events.

We started off strong by taking gold in the spear toss, but in the end the Vikings were just too much and they smothered (literally, at one point) the rest of the competition. After the awards ceremony, all the competitors got together and had lemonade with some sort of Aztec bone cookies. We shared tips about terrorizing villagers and keeping our uniforms clean, and then we finished off the leftover captive victims with our various weapons of choice. I, of course, used my rod of terror. It was a real bonding moment with my fellow evildoers.

Tue, 14 Jun 2005 02:45:50 GMT

Today I was at lunch with #588 (Todd), and he noticed that my company polo shirt was drenched in blood. He works the laundry department, and offered to sneak me in back to get my shirt cleaned after lunch. I gladly accepted his offer. I had been out drinking the night before with #333, and for some reason, every time I go out with that guy I wake up in the morning hungover and drenched in blood. That crazy #333 - talk about a party animal!

Man, you would not believe the amount of bloody shirts those guys clean everyday. I mean, sure, we all work at the ultimate headquarters of evil (not to mention line-dancing capital of the world, according to Us Weekly), but I never really thought about just how much ritualistic and/or recreational slaughter takes place on a day-to-day basis. There's a whole ward of the laundry department devoted just to cleaning Dr. Armageddon's wardrobe. Apparently the guy gets blood splattered on his tunic 10 to 12 times daily. Who knew?

Mon, 06 Jun 2005 18:29:25 GMT

A few years back, the lab guys annihilated a section of Canada, creating a small wasteland. We use it mostly for post-apocalyptic training exercises, but every once in a while, the whole company heads out there for a long weekend picnic.

Over this last weekend, we did just that. We stole a few old dirt bikes from nearby Canadian families, and had a giant motorbike decapitation derby. Whoever could ride around on their motorbike and decapitate the most guys in 10 minutes won a six pack of sacrificial virgins (also largely acquired from nearby Canadian families).

It was awesome. A guy who works in the laser department won the derby. He looked real excited. After that we all had hot dogs and there was a big bonfire. Best company outing ever.

Wed, 25 May 2005 01:37:35 GMT

A week in the tropical jungle torturing natives, and guess who forgets to bring his camera. That's right, this guy. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how I even make it out of bed in the morning without forgetting to recharge my cerebral enhancer.

We spent the last week in an area that is now known as the Archipelago of Doom, crushing the natives and establishing a new outpost for Dr. Armageddon. With the sweet palace he has at the undisclosed location, I'm not sure why he feels the need to branch out so often. But hey, you don't question the guy who pays the bills around here, not unless you want to find yourself on the wrong end of a fire whip.

They were taking volunteers for the Archipelago of Doom mission, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to try out the new Kodak I bought (it's got 4x optical zoom!), and maybe catch a little sun too. A word of advice, don't try to mix work and vacation. Nothing turned out the way I planned.

Aside from forgetting the camera, the natives were also much tougher than anticipated. At first we rolled through a few villages, incinerating ancient temples and torturing virgins - you know, the standard "pillage and burn" protocol. We had natives fleeing left and right, and that first night we set up a disco and celebrated a little bit over some cocktails.

Day two is when the trouble started. The natives started banding together around this plucky outsider who organized them and launched a counteroffensive. If it weren't for tactical strikes from the doom laser satellites, we probably would have been driven back out of the island chain altogether. After that we spent a week inching our way from island to island, across the entire archipelago. It was hard work.

We're still cleaning up small cells of resistance, the interrogation teams are working around the clock on prisoners, and the plucky outsider is still at-large, but Dr. Armageddon has declared an end to all offensive military operations. They're already laying groundwork for a Hilton and a Denny's in the city serving as the capital. Chain gangs of native captives are laying a new airstrip. All in all, I feel like it was a job well done. I just wish it would have been as relaxing and pleasant as the brochure made it seem. That's the last time I try to work and vacation at the same time.

Wed, 11 May 2005 18:06:40 GMT

I just spent the better part of last week in the hospital ward. See, it's Yeti Month here at the Gladiator Dome, and I decided it was a good idea to taunt one of the new shipments of yetis while we were unloading them. One of them broke out of his chains and attacked me. Damn near got my head ripped clean off.

Luckily, the hospital ward fixed me right up. Granted, they attached this antenna to the back of my head while they were healing me. It's itchy, plus now I can't wear hats, but they tell me it's only temporary. Something about scrambling the mind control signal. I don't know, I don't listen to the scientific mumbo jumbo.

What totally sucks is that getting laid up in the hospital for a week means I've missed the whole first third of Yeti Month. Today was my first day working. People had told me Zorgoth the Annihilator was on a tear this year, killing like two or three yetis a day. I got to see him in action today, and it's true. He's got the championship wrapped up. Unfortunately, that means my Yeti Month Fantasy League team is screwed. Unless Clarence "Maneater" Wallace gets his act together and starts killing some more yetis, I'm gonna owe #406 a couple hundred Armageddon Pesos as well as a bottle of unicorn blood.

On the bright side, though, I did get to meet Billy Crystal while serving concessions. He's got season tickets for Yeti Month.

Where Old Plans Go to Die

Tue, 03 May 2005 02:35:47 GMT

I found the coolest place ever today. The diorama graveyard.

You know how evil overlords always have a detailed, to-scale diorama that rises up out of the floor or comes out of a wall or something? Well, with as many plans as we go through here, there's a whole diorama factory over in Gamma sector that just churns these things out. Today was a half day, so I took the factory tour (free T-shirt!). While on the tour, I asked what they did with the old dioramas, and the lady took us on a little detour out back and showed us the diorama graveyard. It was this mammoth pit filled with broken plastic models of houses, cars, monsters, transdimensional warp generators and stuff.

The tour lady said Dr. Armageddon likes to have each diorama contain a piece representing him in a new and different pose of victory. Apparently they've got a whole department that just brainstorms new victory poses. How sweet would that job be? So tomorrow, #338 and I are headed over there with some big trashbags, and we're gonna sift through the graveyard looking for kickass diorama pieces. I'm hoping to find a Dr. Armageddon, possibly in a pose where he's waving his Rod of Domination menacingly. But that might be hoping for too much.

Sun, 01 May 2005 03:12:22 GMT

Today was my last day at the bowling alley. I didn't get the job at the cybernetic enhancement ward like I'd hoped, but I did get my second choice. Yep, starting Tuesday I'll be selling concessions at the gladiator dome. I've made it up there a couple times to see prisoners get mauled by hungry velociraptors, but now I'll get to see all kinds of other events too. Mutant cock-fighting, battle cat chariot racing, laser battles, soccer, robot duels, you name it. Oh man, it's gonna be awesome.

Wed, 27 Apr 2005 22:07:38 GMT

I just got out of a seminar titled "Ask Not What Your Evil Overlord Can Do For You, But What You Can Do For Your Evil Overlord." It was all about maximizing the amount of evil you do. We were introduced to a three-part method for making sure your evil deeds are as wickedly evil as possible.

The TSM method: Terrorize. Slaughter. Make it known.

Terrorize. Have you ever found yourself so eager to kill or torture your victims that you don't take the time to frighten them first? You can lose valuable respect in the eyes of competing evildoers if you don't maximize the pre-slaughter terror you inflict. The seminar leader told us a story about a guy (who he didn't name) whose buddies kicked him off their bowling team just because he made his killings too merciful. The guy got depressed and dropped out of evil altogether. He's a stockbroker now.

Slaughter. Remember, the cleanest kill is not always the best. And use speed only when you're in danger of getting caught. If we want Dr. Armageddon to be a name feared by all, we need to remember to kill as brutally as possible in his name. About to kill a family of seven with their own butcher knife? Put that knife down and do it with a spoon or a cheese grater instead. Put pride in your work.

Make it known. Killing people in a dank, forgotten dungeon rates very high on the terror scale. However, no one will ever know about how you drove that heroic farmer mad with terror before killing him if he's left forever in a dark hole somewhere. You need to announce your terror boldly, so that your enemies and competitors will know you take your evil seriously. And this is where it all ties together. Remember step one, Terrorize? Well, if you terrorize an entire family, and then slaughter all but one, you leave that one free to escape and spread the horrors of your deeds. Works better than taking out an ad in Evil Weekly or Forbes, I'll tell you that much.

So yeah, it was one hell of a seminar. I look forward to the fall when this guy comes back with "Presenting an Evil Image: Your Competing Evildoers Are Watching You Eat That Yogurt Fruit Salad At Starbucks, And It's Bad For Business."

Tue, 26 Apr 2005 09:39:05 GMT

Today Dr. Armageddon had his top scientists set up a panel in one of the conference rooms and field evil plan proposals from the regular workers like me. I had to wait in line for about half an hour, and when I got up there, they didn't seem too interested in my idea to give the president a dog specially trained to kill presidents in their sleep. Also, apparently my idea about reversing the Earth's magnetic field had already been proposed twice by the time I got up there. They did jot down some notes about my idea to put nuclear rockets in a hidden secret base on the moon, though. I got a free t-shirt and a lemonade for participating.

Mon, 25 Apr 2005 08:33:25 GMT

Today we dismantled Soul Ripper, one of the oldest killing machines we have. He was getting rusty, and last week he just flipped out and started attacking the cleaning staff. The scientists think maybe his laser vision chip got worn down and he started confusing mops with some sort of tentacled beast.

He managed to drink two deathguardsmen's souls before they could take him down. There was a poignant ceremony in the Sigma Sector Courtyard, and I even think Dr. Armageddon shed a tear (his tears are made of acid, which is totally sweet, but that didn't make it any less emotionally powerful of a moment for me).

We got the rest of the parts we needed to build Soul Ripper's replacement and spent most of the day building. We're still deciding what to name this one. He'll have to be named before we ship him off to next week's "Blow Shit Up" extravaganza in Siberia.

Sun, 17 Apr 2005 02:41:40 GMT

The Unicorn slaughterhouse has been put on indefinite hiatus, pending us finding a new unicorn supplier. The building is pretty much like a huge warehouse, so in the meantime they're using it as a place to have guys in black jumpsuits do rappelling, martial arts, and machine gun practice. Basically, Dr. Armageddon just keeps them in there so he can open the door to a scene of intense tactical training and impress visitors.

I've been transferred to a new job once again. Right now they've got me working at the bowling alley as a pin monkey until something opens up in the cybernetic rehab ward. That'd be a sweet job, because if you put in six months without taking a day off, they offer to give you a free minor cybernetic enhancement. I've been eyeing the bulletproof pectoral plate, with the nipples that pull out to form an unbreakable strangling cord. But I was also thinking it would be sweet to have one of those hydraulic thigh holsters inside your leg like Robocop had.

Of course, until I actually get moved there, these things are all pipe dreams. Right now it's just me and the pins. Tuesday night is the beginning of the All-Evil intramural bowling tournament, though. That should be a busy night. For tournament games, Dr. Armageddon likes us to use pins made from the remains of his enemies. So, in anticipation of a lot of pins breaking, tonight I'll be working late at the bone saw, Gertie, making some new pins.

Wed, 13 Apr 2005 18:51:41 GMT

Whew, I narrowly avoided getting my finger chopped off yesterday. I was playing poker with some of the guys at the unicorn slaughterhouse, because our unicorn supplier ran dry and we had nothing better to do. We've had the whole week off except for about 2 hours on Monday when we finished off the dregs from the last batch of unicorns. As an aside, before working the slaughterhouse, I always thought all unicorns were proud, shiny and strong. Not so. Monday I killed what I would describe as the flea-bitten ponies of the unicorn species. They were sort of an off-white color, with small, knotty horns, and not nearly so sparkly. I do so love to kill sparkly things.

Anyway, we've been sitting around playing cards and watching the Discovery Channel all week. Yesterday, we decided to liven things up, and made it so that whoever goes out first gets his, her, or its finger chopped off. I went all in with pocket Famines (we were playing with a Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse commemorative deck). Turned out the other guy had pocket Wars, so I needed a small miracle to win. Luckily a third Famine came out on the river, and my finger was saved. I didn't win any money, though.

Later, Bruce came by and yelled at us for playing cards, and also for using the unicorn eviscerator to cut off someone's finger. I think he's probably gonna move us to different jobs tomorrow if a new unicorn shipment doesn't come in.

I'm Never Drinking Lithuanian Blood Vodka Again

Sun, 10 Apr 2005 04:08:10 GMT

The carnival was pretty fun. I did the "Diving for Dollars" and made about $75, but I chipped my tooth on a collarbone that I dove head-first into. It still hurts a little. After that, I got drunk on some Lithuanian Blood Vodka and rode the teacups until I hurled. Overall it was a good time, but now I have to wash all this dried torso blood off my new clothes.

Going Shopping

Fri, 08 Apr 2005 18:48:55 GMT

I'm heading out later to pick up some new clothes for the carnival. It's a casual dress event which means I don't have to wear the company polo shirt. This presents a problem, however, since all I brought with me when I applied for the job was this old holocaust cloak and a wand of minor destruction. It was enough to keep me fed when I was unemployed, but it won't do for a proper celebration.

So, I'm taking my paycheck and getting some sweet new duds. I hear there's a "Splitfoot's Gentleman's Wear and Torture Equipment" as well as one of those "Abercrombie and Fitch: Blood, Gore 'n More" specialty outlets over in Omega Sector. I'm sure there's more places, but I haven't had time to look yet.

Thu, 07 Apr 2005 23:03:19 GMT

Tomorrow night we're having a carnival. I hear U2 is headlining. But what I'm more excited about is "Diving for Dollars." They put a bunch of money at the bottom of a pool, fill that pool with human torsos, and then you get one minute to swim to the bottom and gather as much money as possible. Last year's competitors tell me there's nothing more exhilirating than swimming up from under a sea of torsos with a one hundred dollar bill clenched in your teeth, fists raised to the sky in victory.

Wed, 06 Apr 2005 23:31:03 GMT

After last weekend's disastrous attempt to make one of our terrorism units extra scary by having them dress up in clown makeup before striking an Australian financial building, Dr. Armageddon has decided to do a survey about what people truly find terrifying. The clowns, it turned out, were plenty scary by themselves, but when holding machine guns they somehow once again became comical. Also, we should have equipped them with a badass hi-tech van instead of that Cooper Mini. Five guys in clown suits trying to get out of one of those cars is not only thoroughly un-terrifying, it's also a slow way to get your attack unit in position. They were all picked off by snipers before they even entered the building. It was one of our most poorly planned missions to date.

So, that brings us around to the survey. Dr. Armageddon and some of his leading terror think-tank workers want to know what is so scary it will frighten people into cooperating during terrorist insurgencies. I got smacked in the mouth for suggesting terrorists pop out of birthday cakes with guns and scream, "surprise!" so you can see why I don't want to go back until I get a few good suggestions. You guys should be receiving the form in the mail sometime in the next few days. Do me a favor. Fill it out and send it back to me, so I have something to report. Otherwise Bruce might put me back on latrine duty.

Tue, 05 Apr 2005 05:06:43 GMT

Rumors of a Godzilla sighting in the area have got us scrambling. I had to leave a unicorn half-killed on the slaughterhouse floor and rush off to my "battle station." I say that with quotes around it because I don't actually do any battle. They don't give you machine gun training until you've been with the company for at least 6 months, and I'm not a scientist, so you won't find me in the hangar working on our giant defense robot, Alfred. Nope, my battle station is at the nursery, watching the 3-5 year olds (Who knew the babysitter was an indispensible martial arts expert?).

An hour into this, I feel like Godzilla striking us unexpectedly would actually be a small mercy. After the fourth time the fire-breathing kid torches the legos on a dare, I've had it. I walk over to the wall, grab the fire extinguisher, and just sit there dousing the bastard until it's empty. He's still crying.

Sun, 03 Apr 2005 21:33:02 GMT

They switched me over to Kappa sector, and they've got me working the ground floor at the unicorn slaughterhouse. It's a pretty sweet job. Except for the shrieking and the possibility of being gored, it's quite relaxing. They blast good music over the speakers and you just sit there eviscerating unicorns. Sometimes the boss even looks the other way when I sneak a Big Gulp full of unicorn blood out with me when I go home.

I went out with some of the guys from the slaughterhouse for karaoke and line dancing last night. Dr. Armageddon was there in the VIP lounge with some princess chained to his booth. At about 3, a would-be-hero broke in trying to save her, and there was a short firefight. Dr. Armageddon used his atomizer ray and it just disintegrated the guy in a flash of light. It was the coolest thing ever.

Well guys, I was out late and I'm a little hungover, so I'm gonna go now. But I'll be back in North America next week meeting with some arms dealers. Give me a call and we'll get together for unicorn blood cocktails or something.

Mon, 28 Mar 2005 00:04:30 GMT

I managed to get a date with 238. I was talking about it in the locker rooms by the shark tank, when a guy came up and handed me a couple of pills. "They'll put a spark in your evening," he said. I pocketed them.

Right before I showed up at 238's pod to take her out, I decided to go ahead and pop the pills. It couldn't hurt, I figured. Well, I was wrong. About halfway through dinner, I was telling that story about the time 423 got his head stuck in the intake valve of an infinity modulator. I was gesticulating to emphasize a point when all of the sudden lightning shot out of my hand and electrocuted 238 right at the dinner table. She passed out cold in her soup. Needless to say, I got the hell out of there.

All I hope now is that these powers last long enough for me to find the guy from the locker room and shove something metallic and handheld into one of his bodily orifices.

Thu, 24 Mar 2005 22:47:18 GMT

I just got back from a week-long business trip. Dr. Armageddon had acquired some vital secret information about a few superheroes (secret identities, weaknesses, or in the case of one particular hero, the fact that he stuffs a cucumber down the front of his tights before he fights crime). Dr. Armageddon had decided to auction this information off to the highest bidder. So, he sent out the usual faxes and messages by carrier vulture and whatnot, and we assembled some of our competitors in a secret, neutral location. They were quite eager and paid high prices. At least I think they were high; I couldn't pay too close of attention since I was serving drinks. It's amazing how many of these rich supervillains demand umbrellas in their cocktails. We actually had to run out to a local supermarket for extras on day 3.

But I digress. Overall, the auction was a big success. It turned out to be a good fundraiser for Dr. Armageddon's next doom project (we're thinking something with robot armies, but still brainstorming). Everyone complied with Dr. Armageddon's house rules of immediate payment in either gold or uranium. There were, however, a couple small roadbumps. Like when one of the buyers was discovered to be a superhero in disguise and he ran out of the banquet hall as several of the world's greatest supervillains and their mooks chased after him. The guy escaped through a garbage chute (why do the architects design those things so conveniently for infiltration?). But, unfortunately for that would-be-hero, he soon discovered that the secret location of the meeting was in a giant hydrocraft over the frigid waters of the Caspian Sea. The garbage chute emptied him into the dark waters below. He went down and never came up. We didn't find a body or anything, so we figured he obviously must have died.

Tue, 15 Mar 2005 08:14:43 GMT

Today I saw the most beautiful girl. I think she was number 238. She had great legs. Three of them, actually. And I'm pretty sure she had a machine gun built into her boustier. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to ask her name because while I was staring at her, I got distracted and spilled molten metal all over the console I was working at. Bruce came down and threatened to run my balls through the shrink ray if I didn't start paying more attention. It's a brand-new Shrinkmeister 6000 - Bruce looks for any excuse to use it.