I was lying on a sun lounger by the pool that we had built on the roof. Not far away, Shego was sunbathing in a black and green swimsuit that accentuated her figure. Sunbathing was problematic for me — due to my unusual pigmentation, my skin practically didn't tan. However, it was incredibly easy to get sunburned. So I lay under an umbrella, making a new plan and analyzing the previous one. But someone else is having a worse time right now! I immediately took a satisfied sip of mojito from a glass filled to the brim with ice. The drink, by the way, was also chosen by my assistant. And it was absolutely not because there were many green leaves visible through the glass, slightly distorted by the ice cubes, not at all! Her craving for the color green was starting to look like a real obsession.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't want people to suffer from overheating at all. If I had wanted to, I could have also included in the plan the breaking of all air conditioners, cooling systems, and fans. But I just wanted to show people that it is not at all necessary to blow everything up with missiles and lasers, or to rattle a Huge Cannon. A single precise prick is enough, and all their comfort will crumble like a house of cards in a gust of wind.
Norman was loitering nearby, occasionally refilling my and Shego's drinks and running back into the cool shade. He had done a simply colossal job, and more than anyone else, he deserved a rest. He didn't show it, though, he was a tough nut. But I, as a true villain, tyrant, and genius (as well as a truly humble person), forced this workaholic to rest. As you can see, he still found something to do, but I was willing to accept such a compromise.
The heroes, on the other hand, showed themselves to be quite ambiguous. By the way, my suspicions about an organization similar to the League were confirmed. "The Heroes Organization." No, "The League of Evil" is not exactly brilliant either. But at least it doesn't sound jarring. Seriously, I haven't seen such an uninteresting name in a long time. Who would ever put the word "organization" in the name of an organization, if you'll excuse the tautology. Hmm… but that's an idea! Next time, we'll change the name of the main competitor.
In fact, the Organization was not a single monolithic structure, like the League, but was more of an association of many private companies. You see, everyone in the world is ruled by profit. It doesn't matter whether it's financial or reputational. Many people wonder why heroes never finish off villains, or send them to prison? As long as there are villains, there will be heroes, and therefore, a reward for the latter for victories over the former. There is no point in breaking this cycle that brings in income. Of course, it turned out that the heroes' working conditions were not as great as my colleagues'. However, no one is stopping them from defecting. Take Shego, for example. Instead of a team of hero brothers, one plane and not the largest base, she got a solid (and if anyone disagrees, they can spend half a day as a dwarf as punishment) boss, almost her own island, access to all my inventions, financial security, and much, much more. Of course, profit is not always the main thing, but so is motivation, but still.
At least, that's what I thought before our scam began…
***
It was the second day at the new base, which Doctor Lipsky, with a perceptible love in his voice, called the Tower of Evil, the Tower of Babel, or even the strange word Barad-dûr, which was not clear to her. But to ask him would be to risk another brain-dump session. Since they met, their relationship had become much less formal. And although the "subordinate-boss" thread was still there, they could well be called buddies or even friends. The doctor was… different. Sometimes he was restrained, focused, and courteous, and at another moment he could forget about personal space, poke his nose into other people's business, exude cheerfulness, and pull off all sorts of stunts. His meeting with their minions alone was a sight to behold. For some reason, he called these people from Eurasia nothing but "guest workers." The moment they met caused particular confusion, when to the foreman's greeting: "Hello, boss!" — Doctor Lipsky teared up and patted him on the shoulder with a kind of nostalgia. And then he started yelling at them, in a language she didn't know, resembling one of the Slavic ones. Perhaps it was Russian, she should check. And if before that the minions who carried out her orders worked horribly, then after the "Motivational Speech," as Doctor Lipsky called it, and the temporary transformation of one of the wo…rkers into a dwarf with a shrinking ray, not a single commission would have been able to find fault with their work.
She especially remembered how the heroes showed up.
A day ago
Shego woke up from a crash on the floor above. Constant flights all over the world to execute their plan had thoroughly messed up her schedule. She had to rush around, visiting various factories under different guises. But it was incredibly interesting! On one day, they were epidemiologists, putting everything under quarantine. On another, they were ecologists, fighting against the pollution of the planet with polymers. They sent so many protest notes, complaints, and claims that she still felt sorry for the employees of the ministry and the head of the production himself. It was especially funny with the ice bags. The doctor, in his insane impulse, just wanted to invent something to pierce them. But he couldn't come up with anything in a couple of days, and so in all the factories, the polymer from which the bags are actually made was replaced with one that dissolves in water. Thus, when water was poured into the bag, it dissolved right in his hands into a viscous, uniform mass. And so, in many different ways, they still took away from humanity for the next couple of months such expensive cool pleasures in the heat. And forecasters promised a record hot summer this year, and it was already being felt.
The crash from above sounded again, the sound of running feet on the stairs was heard, and then her boss unceremoniously burst into her door.
— Shego, we have guests, possibly heroes, to your steeds! — her boss exclaimed with an exceptionally inspired face. It should be noted that he was very much looking forward to his first pests. Many other villains, on the contrary, hated it when they were interfered with, and especially hated heroes and their untimely appearance. Doctor Lipsky was a completely different matter. She had caught him a couple of times at night rehearsing a classic villainous laugh in front of the mirror and trying out some pompous phrases that he was apparently reading from a script. At other times, he would meticulously dust off his suit or give everyone valuable instructions. And the way he thought out traps…
— Shego? Why are you frozen, hurry, I need your help! I will treacherously hide behind your back and mock the pathetic attempts of the invaders.
— Couldn't they have chosen another time to invade?! Today is Saturday, a day off! — she got genuinely furious.
— Good never sleeps, my sleepy assistant! To be honest, I'm not even sure if they sleep? — and he thoughtfully examined her. She remembered how she and her brothers could chase around the city for almost three days without rest, which drove her insane.
— Very rarely, — she finally grumbled in response and followed her boss.
They were located on the fourth floor, where a whole hall was equipped. Numerous monitors showed images from surveillance cameras. A whole team showed up. This means their villainy was appreciated. All of them were selected: colorful and unique. For some reason, they decided to split up and get to the goal in different ways. Real pests, what can I say.
Here, one runs into a minion who is mopping the floors. With a cry of: "Cannot walk on wet, boss will be mad!" — the latter begins to beat the brave man with an unexpected quickness and effectiveness with a mop with a wet cloth. After 3 minutes of the scuffle, the unconscious hero is already being dragged somewhere. Here, the second one sees a red neon sign with the inscription "secret passage" and bravely runs inside only to slide down the garbage chute into piles of sticky garbage. All I wanted was to sigh plaintively, but Doctor Lipsky still had such an inspired mood that I didn't want to spoil his fun with the idiocy of the invaders.
Finally, one of the heroes got to them. How did he do it? Oh, he distinguished himself with originality: he flew to the tower on a glider. True, then he spent a long time banging on the windows, looking more like a fly than a hero. I had to quietly remove one of the windows into its grooves to let him in. The boss will still rewatch and analyze everything later. But now I shouldn't spoil his excitement with the invaders' idiocy.
He looked like all his brethren: colorful, gaudy, and strange. A tight-fitting blue bodysuit with red polka dots and an equally blue cloak, which, fortunately for our eyes, was monochrome. His face was painted with makeup, also with polka dots.
— Your time has come, villain, I, the Blue Bee, will put an end to this! — the hero suddenly introduced himself. Shego looked at Doctor Lipsky, whose skin was also blue. And this costumed clown, with his very appearance, caused him irritation.
— Listen, are you sure bees are blue, and polka-dotted at that? — she decided to avenge the boss's disgraced honor.
— Silence, villainess! You can't understand the full meaning of my image! You, on the other hand, only wear black and green, a horrible combination, — she immediately got furious and jumped up to him, lighting her hands with a green flame. Her ability only looked like a flame; in fact, it never burned. It deprived everyone it touched of their stamina, except for the owner. Her abilities, on the contrary, gave her more strength.
A scuffle began. The hero was well-equipped and could easily block her blows with metal bracelets hidden under his tights. And he moved well. Of course, he was not a master of martial arts, but not a complete bumbler either.
— I conjure you to retreat, hero, for it is in my power to bring an unseen misfortune upon you! — Doctor Lipsky suddenly began to speak during Shego's and the Blue Bee's fight, "You will never have peace at night, and all your clothes will be the wrong size and full of holes!"
His speech was so pathetic and heartfelt that the assistant and the hero even stopped fighting and exchanged glances. The hero sympathetically asked:
— Is he always like this?
— At times, — Shego answered evasively.
— Ahem… You're finished anyway, villain! You won't be able to intimidate me! — the hero defiantly blurted out and returned to the fight.
— Is that so! — the boss turned even bluer and began to choke with indignation, "In the name of the Night, I call upon the Unholy Abomination, by an ancient covenant I conjure you to fulfill your duty! Sergey Semenovich!"
The fight stopped again. The shadows in the corners seemed to stir, a lisping was heard, and then it suddenly fell silent. It looked impossibly creepy, if you didn't hear the phrase itself.
— What? — even Shego couldn't help but say. Seriously, sometimes her boss's quirks were even too much. For all her understanding of villains, freaks, mad geniuses, and other colorful personalities. But instead of an answer to the question, a surprised cry from the hero was heard. The Blue Bee stood without pants, covering himself with his hands. It seemed that even Doctor Lipsky didn't expect such an effect.
— You know why I'm blue, hero? — after clearing his throat and regaining his composure, the boss continued, "I ate so much stolen ice cream that I froze forever, mwha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Shego still couldn't help but put her hand to her face. Sometimes his ability to pick people's brains just broke all the molds. However, she noticed that a panel behind the Blue Bee was moving away, opening a pit. Into which she immediately sent the careless invader with a kick.
— Excellent work, Shego. Blue Bee, do you know who David Blaine is? — the hero, having stopped trying to get out, nodded uncertainly, "Wonderful, then you will repeat his trick!"
After this threat, the pit was covered with a grate from above and began to fill with water. Doctor Lipsky put his hand in the inner pocket of his jacket and took out another device, resembling his Shrinkinator. When the Blue Bee was up to his neck in water, he suddenly shot, instantly freezing all the liquid.
— Mwha-ha-ha-ha-ha! — the villainous laugh still needed some practice. Now it looked more like a cross between a dying hyena and a croaking raven, "You will go home in this block, and you will watch as those around you, languishing from the heat, will carefully break this ice. And, without the desire to free you!"
The hero could only give up to the mercy of the two villains. A little later, they gathered all three losers and sent them back. They instructed Norman to return everyone, only to torment the Bee a little — he was left standing frozen in ice in the park in front of everyone. And in the shade, so the ice would melt more slowly.
***
On this day, everything was as usual. Passers-by were rushing about their business: some to work, some to study. Someone was returning home from a night shift. Others were carelessly walking. However, this summer heat had long since exhausted everyone. And the inability to buy ice cream was terribly infuriating. It had all been sold out last week, and no new deliveries were expected. And drinks could be cooled on the condition that they were in refrigerators. But the space in the refrigerator is very limited. In this regard, the prices for any cooling systems increased, ice cube molds in general cost four or five times more than usual, and some enterprising person, who apparently had access to warehouses, organized an auction for each one. Of course, he didn't make much from one, about 7-10 dollars. But he had a lot of them. A lot. People who acquired them or had them originally quickly became desired at many parties or as guests.
But there was something unusual today. Some villain hacked all the TV programs, as well as the screens with advertising, and launched a looped gif of a hero beating himself against the glass, who was insanely similar to a fly. At the bottom was a signature: "Join our Club for the Alternatively-Gifted! Training is free!" — And at the bottom was a photo of the villain himself. His skin had a blue tint, he was dressed to the nines. In the photo, he smiled from ear to ear, apparently happy about the prank, and made a "V" with his fingers, hugging a beautiful black-haired, green-eyed girl. Her face was grim and expressed dissatisfaction.
It was found out much later that the databases of the Heroes Organization were hacked and the name was changed everywhere to "Club for the Alternatively-Gifted." And even at the deepest root levels, because of which the document flow in the Organization was chaotic for almost a month until everything was back to normal. It also turned out that the person who caused the shortage of goods necessary for every person in the summer; the person who organized the auction; the hacker of the Organization, and, finally, the author of the gif, which quickly became a popular meme, was one and the same person. The one with the blue skin. The League of Evil took responsibility for what was done, and the new mad genius and prankster was dubbed Doctor Drakken.
***
Shego was late for a conference organized by the League. Every quarter they summed up the results, considered certain villainous acts, and evaluated the reputation they had gained. She and Doctor Lipsky (although he liked the nickname better), had arrived in Washington yesterday. The main office of the League, the root of all evil, had to be right in plain sight, in the very capital of the United States. There was some irony in that. They checked into a hotel and went about their business. The boss went to a meeting with Mr. Clark, and she decided to spend all the money she had earned from work.
Doctor Drakken, at her request, made some fancy program that tracked all the articles in fashion magazines about green and black clothes. He, of course, was stubborn and grumbled for a long time, but gave in to persuasion. Because: "green is a timeless classic," — everyone knows this, although not everyone adheres to it. So she was going to have a shopping day. And then for the doctor, whom she managed to catch after his business meeting. Revenge was done! She exhausted the brilliant mind in three hours, but he still continued to walk with her. This was her little revenge for all those minutes that she was shocked by his various actions or statements. She even thought about going to a pharmacy and buying some pills for schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. Well, at least she would ask for recommendations. But the doctor was already very tired and went to sleep. Shego also wandered around the stores, but having lost her company, quickly lost her mood and returned to the room as well.
Why was she late? She overslept. And into the unceremoniously breaking-in Drakken, a desktop alarm clock flew first, and then a ball of her green flame. Yes, when she was half-asleep, she was a little creepy. And she was also ashamed of it. This time she will definitely apologize.
— I apologize for being late, — when she entered the conference room, a very funny picture opened up to her gaze. At the head of the table sat a man dressed in all dark and crimson shades and radiating an aura of power. Apparently, the head of the League himself. Opposite him, on the other side, sat her boss, looking at some papers in surprise. Next to the boss sat, it seemed, a real vampire. He was old and ugly. He and the doc were whispering about something. All the other villains were clustered around the Head. They all carefully huddled together and tried to stay away from her boss. Shego could only snort and moved towards her boss.
— Wait, where are you going?! — someone from her villain colleagues asked with genuine horror or admiration for her madness, unexpectedly grabbing her hand and stopping her, "Do you even know who this is?"
— Um… — she was even a little lost, "Doctor Drakken?"
— YES! — horror was in his face, "He's a real psychopath! Who could even think of such a monstrosity as taking away ice cream in the summer?! I think in his free time he takes candy from children!"
— Well… — usually in his free time he either rehearses in a mirror, thinking that neither Shego nor Norman notices this, or yells at the minions. Sometimes he invents.
— And you want to sit next to him?! Even the fearless Sergey Semenovich hesitated before sitting down with him, — the mere mention of this name brought back her memories of the hero's pants falling down.
— I am his assistant! — Shego answered proudly. No, who among us is not vain? Everyone loves praise. And they love it even more when they are exalted or tremble in horror!
— Monsters! — he stared at her in disbelief, pulling his hand away as if from a hot kettle. And he huddled into the person sitting behind him.
She, however, proudly proceeded to her boss's place and sat down on his right hand with an independent look. For some time, people were still coming into the hall, apparently, punctuality is not the strongest villainous trait. About twenty minutes later, the head of the League spoke.
— Let's begin.
***
I didn't expect to meet the old vampire at this meeting. Mr. Clark, with whom we spoke yesterday about new equipment and some updates, immediately warned me that he would not be here today. The sleep-deprived Shego was late. Next time I'll take some kind of shield before I wake her up myself.
The Evil Ruler did not look at all like I had imagined him. I thought he would look like Satan. You know, horns, a tail, red skin. On the contrary, he had quite white, slightly tanned skin. A strong square chin, sharp cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks. Eyes shining with intelligence, covered from above by thick eyebrows. And he also had a mohawk.
A word about his nickname. I began to have suspicions that any name that contained the words: "Evil, dark, hellish, unholy, sinful" and many others, held a special place in the romantic black hearts of villains.
— Let's begin, — he suddenly said. Yeah, I got lost in thought, though. I didn't even notice Shego had arrived.
— I want to express my special respect to Doctor Drakken, who has honored us with his visit, — I nodded gratefully, "His debut was truly bright and brought us considerable dividends. The League was able to strengthen its financial position and also expand its influence on industrialists. Many asked for 'protection' so that something similar would not happen to them. Unfortunately for them, this is not absolute protection. And just like everyone present here, they must understand that as long as they work for us and our needs, they are under our protection."
The people hummed and nodded in agreement. Then the head of the League softened and switched to an informal tone, and the conference began to look more like a home gathering. They discussed heroes and their incidents, our achievements and defeats. They even worked on their mistakes. They distributed financing by a general vote into various areas of industry that served our needs. In general, they dealt with classic organizational issues, with an amendment for our activities and the mentality of this world.
I didn't expect to like it so much. Although management and organization are not my strongest suits. Shego and Norman usually dealt with them. I was more of a leader and a banner, as well as a generator of ideas. And my assistant was nearby, I could always ask for advice. It seems she really appreciated my trust, and therefore even managed to apologize for the morning "greeting" with an alarm clock and a fireball.
— Doctor… We are flying out tomorrow, aren't we? — and she makes eyes like that. Although I feel some nasty trick. A fisherman sees a fisherman from afar.
— Yes, Shego. Did you want something?
— But we haven't visited so many stores yet! You need a green suit! — she grabbed my hand, and despite any objections, dragged me to another session of Revenge (called shopping). At my heavy and pathetic sigh, this fury just burst into a trilling laugh.