Evil Overlord List #56 . . As Flare manages to continue his futile attempts at out-evil-ing my gloriousness, I find myself detecting any number of errors in both his outlook and execution. Speaking of execution, last we saw of me, I was about to be shot in the arena with no chance to defend myself. Luckily, Flare's shocking disregard for the Evil Overlord List is about to be his downfall once again.
56. My Legions of Terror will be trained in basic marksmanship. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice.
Sadly, my Evil British Accent tends to slip when occupied with saving my royal derričre.
"You'll never get away with this, y'hear? Yer gonna be sorry for this, punk!"
"Try and stop me, you're not going anywhere fast! Good luck defending yourself empty-handed. Oh, wait, you don't have any hands. You're lucky I didn't have you disarmed as well. Fire at will!"
Deftly dodging the deadly destructive darts of sizzling energy, I would've come up with a witty response to his raving rhetoric, but I was a little busy.
It seemed that his gelatinous green goons had all the abysmal aim of an entire platoon of stormtroopers, and outwitting them was a breeze.
"Your valiant struggles afford me much entertainment, but I'm afraid that in the end your efforts will prove futile!" Flare gloated in classic Mischievous Naughty Dictator form. Sure, he was acting cocky as Rocky, but I could tell he was bluffing: by his calculations, I should've been reduced to jelly-slime thirty-seven shots ago.
"Ha, your stupid aliens couldn't hit me if they tried!" And they couldn't at that. I stood there for a few rounds of ammunition, completely unharmed as green bolts shot into the wall on all sides. I figured that I would be out in less than two minutes, so I pressed the homing button on my utility belt to arrange for a ride back to my realm.
Stepping a few feet to the side, I was still completely safe, but I couldn't say the same for the arena gate. It was only a matter of minutes until one of those blasts hit home and paved my escape.
Ahh, perfect! Hasta la vista seņor stupido! Your killers couldn't hit the broad side of a billboard on a blistering day in Berlin! I figured I'd leave him with one parting shot: "I'll be back for your hands!"
In the meantime, I'd have to steal some from some unlucky citizen living in a dark alley.
I don't know what Flare thought of all this; I didn't think to ask him, but I'm sure he took it like a man.
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Flare's original post
My narrow escape