Avika
12-03-2006, 21:35
Mr. X
Mr. Mig
Pomentheus
Fork
Scene 1: large warehouse. Fork is standing next to a barrel of industrial waste. Mr. X, Mr. Mig, and Pomentheus enter the warehouse and walk towards Fork.
Fork: Well well well, what do we have here? Two former employees and the biggest threat I have ever faced since my pawns infiltrated every world government on every conceivable level. Well, Mig and Pomentheus, have you gotten your daily dose of vitamin lead? (Pulls out a gun)
Pomentheus: Well, Fork. Doctor says I should cut down on my lead intake. It appears as though I have too much vitamin lead. Mind if I prevent myself from getting a vitamin overdose? (Pomentheus also pulls out a gun)
Mr. X: I have worked for you for five years. I have seen things that were ugly enough to drive the blind mad. That was just your face during different times of the year. I’ve seen many B-sci-fi movies from the 1950s, but I thought that they were all just fictional. Then I saw you and knew that some were based on a true story. I guess that story would be your autobiography.
Mr. Mig: The first time I saw you, I thought you were mooning me after you sat on a flaming blender as people took target practice on your butt. Wow was I ever wrong. Thanks for showing me what true horror really was.
Fork: Thanks for sharing such nice thoughts with me. Now I know I don’t need plastic surgery. But enough kidding around, you found my secret base and I don’t like that. I have a nice surprise that I’m sure you will all enjoy. (Fork has a mischievous look)
Mr. X: What? A paper bag to put over your face?
Fork: Joke all you want, but remember that if I want someone dead, someone dies. I have a massive empire all over the globe. Many people tried to take over the world, but they all failed miserably. You might say I succeeded where they all failed. While they had massive invasions storm across borders, I made it to the top quietly. I learned the game well. I own the government. I own the military. I even own the internet. That’s right. I conquered the world. I harnessed the power of DNA to increase my lifespan while the world still thought the earth was flat. That’s right. Thanks to my intellect, I’ve discovered immortality. I’m over 1000 years old.
Pomentheus: That explains a lot. I mean, I know you couldn’t possibly be dumb enough to kiss blender blades or to lose fights with lawnmowers.
Fork: Now, if you’re done, I’ll explain my operation to you. Not even I escaped the urge to brag. I’ve been exploring the mysteries of deoxyribonucleic acid, or DNA to you inferiors. I’ve been able to manipulate DNA to my liking. I’ve created a machine that would create special chemicals that would change every strand of DNA in any living being. Using this method, I’ve perfected the art of Single-Target Mind Control, or STMC. I can manipulate the human brain to think the way I want it to. That means I’ve perfected loyalty. I’ve invented the super-soldiers. They are faster, stronger, more agile, and smarter than the average human. They never need training. Give them enough food and supplies and they’ll take down any military. They can outrun the fastest jet. They can crush the strongest tank. Each can survive getting hit by every weapon, nuclear or not, known to man without a scratch.
Mr. Mig: Now, before we prove your immortality theory wrong the old-fashioned way, tell us more. That can’t be all there is to your plan.
Fork: You are correct. There is more to my plan. Deep in the Marina trench of the Pacific Ocean, I have a nuclear missile. In exactly 1000 days, right down to the nanosecond (billionth of a second), that nuke will launch and hit a target located on the border between France and Spain. That will distract the entire world enough for me to launch into space unnoticed. From there, I will travel to the moon. I have a moon base there. From there, I will observe the global situation from a safe distance. It would also allow me to build my gravitation modifier. The gravity modifier would allow my jets to perform maneuvers that would normally tear a jet apart. Without the modifier, such tricks would create too many Gs, which would tear the jets apart using their own weight. With the modifier, the earth’s gravity would be nullified within the crafts, making them completely weightless. However, to counteract the problems associated with weightlessness, the modifier would create its own gravity. With a gravity modifier in a specially made spacecraft, I could travel long periods of time in space without having the oxygen supply taxed by excessive breathing associated with the grueling exercises needed to keep a person from wasting away.
Mr. Mig: Let me guess. Bases on other planets?
Fork: That’s right. I crave power. I will reverse engineer alien technology. Of course, I expect heavy anti-spacecraft fire. I will spend some time observing the aliens. I will learn their weaknesses. That way, I will be able to create super-soldiers designed solely for the assaults. Once I cripple their defenses, I will get the alien technology I need for my research on time and space. Imagine being able to travel thousands of light-years in less than a nanosecond. My empire would know no bounds.
Pomentheus: Intriguing. However, if I know you as well as I think I do, you won’t stop there.
Fork: That is correct. After I achieve said technology and perfect it to the point of faultlessness, I plan on exploring the prospects of atomic manipulation. I will be able to create atoms large enough to be observed with the naked eye. I will be able to shrink entire atoms, electron shell and all, to the size of a proton. Imagine the uses. The fastest computers. Even better super-soldiers. Super-light-speed technology. All part of my glorious plans. I will prove them both right and wrong. Of course, this is just all part of my master plan to transform my body into the ultimate body.
Mr. X: Nice plan. Are you sure it will work?
Fork: I’m quite positive that it will work. I’ve even put in back-up plans for every part of my plan. It can be done just by using the back-up plans alone.
Mr. Mig: And what will you do after you created the ultimate body?
Fork: Why, build the ultimate base, of course. It’s foolproof. In that base, I will create the ultimate society. Free from the corruption of every other society. Everything will be planned out perfectly. The fashion trends will be of my designs. The laws will be unbreakable. Death and pain will be a thing of the past, at least for civilians. Of course, there will be death in the military. Thus, you have seen the only flaw. Everything good is fought and killed over. You can’t get rid of pain without pain being caused in the process.
Pomentheus: Are you quite done? I want to give you the gift of fired ammo.
Fork: Kill this body if you want. I have many other bodies. Kill me and my mind and soul will only be uploaded into a new body.
Mr. X: Interesting. Pomentheus, hold your fire. There’s more than one way to stop Fork.
Fork: Indeed. That’s why I spent countless years researching each and every possible way to stop me. For every way there is to stop me, I’ve implemented a way to counter it. Don’t think about disabling those devices and whatnot. It’s a cycle. Use paper to cover my rock and my scissors will stop you.
Mr. Mig: Indeed. You do know that possibilities are created every second. What have you done to counter these new possibilities?
Fork: You are correct. New possibilities are always being created. That’s why I thought ahead. I planned for each and every possibility that would be created. Clone my body and you won’t get in. My security systems can read thought patterns. They can recognize someone whose mind was altered apart from someone totally new. Grunts A4 through B6, seal off the exits. Z24, ready my paralyzer. It seems we have some new guinea pigs for our experimental society.
Mr. Mig
Pomentheus
Fork
Scene 1: large warehouse. Fork is standing next to a barrel of industrial waste. Mr. X, Mr. Mig, and Pomentheus enter the warehouse and walk towards Fork.
Fork: Well well well, what do we have here? Two former employees and the biggest threat I have ever faced since my pawns infiltrated every world government on every conceivable level. Well, Mig and Pomentheus, have you gotten your daily dose of vitamin lead? (Pulls out a gun)
Pomentheus: Well, Fork. Doctor says I should cut down on my lead intake. It appears as though I have too much vitamin lead. Mind if I prevent myself from getting a vitamin overdose? (Pomentheus also pulls out a gun)
Mr. X: I have worked for you for five years. I have seen things that were ugly enough to drive the blind mad. That was just your face during different times of the year. I’ve seen many B-sci-fi movies from the 1950s, but I thought that they were all just fictional. Then I saw you and knew that some were based on a true story. I guess that story would be your autobiography.
Mr. Mig: The first time I saw you, I thought you were mooning me after you sat on a flaming blender as people took target practice on your butt. Wow was I ever wrong. Thanks for showing me what true horror really was.
Fork: Thanks for sharing such nice thoughts with me. Now I know I don’t need plastic surgery. But enough kidding around, you found my secret base and I don’t like that. I have a nice surprise that I’m sure you will all enjoy. (Fork has a mischievous look)
Mr. X: What? A paper bag to put over your face?
Fork: Joke all you want, but remember that if I want someone dead, someone dies. I have a massive empire all over the globe. Many people tried to take over the world, but they all failed miserably. You might say I succeeded where they all failed. While they had massive invasions storm across borders, I made it to the top quietly. I learned the game well. I own the government. I own the military. I even own the internet. That’s right. I conquered the world. I harnessed the power of DNA to increase my lifespan while the world still thought the earth was flat. That’s right. Thanks to my intellect, I’ve discovered immortality. I’m over 1000 years old.
Pomentheus: That explains a lot. I mean, I know you couldn’t possibly be dumb enough to kiss blender blades or to lose fights with lawnmowers.
Fork: Now, if you’re done, I’ll explain my operation to you. Not even I escaped the urge to brag. I’ve been exploring the mysteries of deoxyribonucleic acid, or DNA to you inferiors. I’ve been able to manipulate DNA to my liking. I’ve created a machine that would create special chemicals that would change every strand of DNA in any living being. Using this method, I’ve perfected the art of Single-Target Mind Control, or STMC. I can manipulate the human brain to think the way I want it to. That means I’ve perfected loyalty. I’ve invented the super-soldiers. They are faster, stronger, more agile, and smarter than the average human. They never need training. Give them enough food and supplies and they’ll take down any military. They can outrun the fastest jet. They can crush the strongest tank. Each can survive getting hit by every weapon, nuclear or not, known to man without a scratch.
Mr. Mig: Now, before we prove your immortality theory wrong the old-fashioned way, tell us more. That can’t be all there is to your plan.
Fork: You are correct. There is more to my plan. Deep in the Marina trench of the Pacific Ocean, I have a nuclear missile. In exactly 1000 days, right down to the nanosecond (billionth of a second), that nuke will launch and hit a target located on the border between France and Spain. That will distract the entire world enough for me to launch into space unnoticed. From there, I will travel to the moon. I have a moon base there. From there, I will observe the global situation from a safe distance. It would also allow me to build my gravitation modifier. The gravity modifier would allow my jets to perform maneuvers that would normally tear a jet apart. Without the modifier, such tricks would create too many Gs, which would tear the jets apart using their own weight. With the modifier, the earth’s gravity would be nullified within the crafts, making them completely weightless. However, to counteract the problems associated with weightlessness, the modifier would create its own gravity. With a gravity modifier in a specially made spacecraft, I could travel long periods of time in space without having the oxygen supply taxed by excessive breathing associated with the grueling exercises needed to keep a person from wasting away.
Mr. Mig: Let me guess. Bases on other planets?
Fork: That’s right. I crave power. I will reverse engineer alien technology. Of course, I expect heavy anti-spacecraft fire. I will spend some time observing the aliens. I will learn their weaknesses. That way, I will be able to create super-soldiers designed solely for the assaults. Once I cripple their defenses, I will get the alien technology I need for my research on time and space. Imagine being able to travel thousands of light-years in less than a nanosecond. My empire would know no bounds.
Pomentheus: Intriguing. However, if I know you as well as I think I do, you won’t stop there.
Fork: That is correct. After I achieve said technology and perfect it to the point of faultlessness, I plan on exploring the prospects of atomic manipulation. I will be able to create atoms large enough to be observed with the naked eye. I will be able to shrink entire atoms, electron shell and all, to the size of a proton. Imagine the uses. The fastest computers. Even better super-soldiers. Super-light-speed technology. All part of my glorious plans. I will prove them both right and wrong. Of course, this is just all part of my master plan to transform my body into the ultimate body.
Mr. X: Nice plan. Are you sure it will work?
Fork: I’m quite positive that it will work. I’ve even put in back-up plans for every part of my plan. It can be done just by using the back-up plans alone.
Mr. Mig: And what will you do after you created the ultimate body?
Fork: Why, build the ultimate base, of course. It’s foolproof. In that base, I will create the ultimate society. Free from the corruption of every other society. Everything will be planned out perfectly. The fashion trends will be of my designs. The laws will be unbreakable. Death and pain will be a thing of the past, at least for civilians. Of course, there will be death in the military. Thus, you have seen the only flaw. Everything good is fought and killed over. You can’t get rid of pain without pain being caused in the process.
Pomentheus: Are you quite done? I want to give you the gift of fired ammo.
Fork: Kill this body if you want. I have many other bodies. Kill me and my mind and soul will only be uploaded into a new body.
Mr. X: Interesting. Pomentheus, hold your fire. There’s more than one way to stop Fork.
Fork: Indeed. That’s why I spent countless years researching each and every possible way to stop me. For every way there is to stop me, I’ve implemented a way to counter it. Don’t think about disabling those devices and whatnot. It’s a cycle. Use paper to cover my rock and my scissors will stop you.
Mr. Mig: Indeed. You do know that possibilities are created every second. What have you done to counter these new possibilities?
Fork: You are correct. New possibilities are always being created. That’s why I thought ahead. I planned for each and every possibility that would be created. Clone my body and you won’t get in. My security systems can read thought patterns. They can recognize someone whose mind was altered apart from someone totally new. Grunts A4 through B6, seal off the exits. Z24, ready my paralyzer. It seems we have some new guinea pigs for our experimental society.