An essay by Dr. Genocide, as provided by J. M. Perkins
Art by Katie Nyborg
(This article first appeared in the December 2375 issue of Mad Science Monthly and is reprinted with permission. Mad Science Monthly accepts no liabilities for any hypertime anomalies arising from any person or persons acting with foreknowledge to as yet unoccured events.)
As I’ve discussed in previous columns, the options available for today’s up and coming Scientist of Non-Plebeian Intellect regarding hench-entity selection and utilization are seemingly without limit. I’ve spent precious space in this monthly feature weighing some of the advantages and disadvantages of zombies, common street thugs equipped with quantum weaponry, and the ever popular mutant mole people of the third earth’s secret cities. However, I’d like to turn your attention to a type of minion that many dismiss as nothing more than a has-been anachronism, suitable only for kitschy Halloween decorations and terrorizing some manner of hapless, bumbling comedic duo.
I’m speaking, of course, of the humble, much maligned Mummy.
If your “science” is so limited that it can only encompass orbiting death rays and beam weaponry enabled Chondrichthyes then by all means, mock me. Laugh, laugh like they all laugh and keep laughing until the day comes for you to rue all your laughing laughter! However, if you in fact possess a true scientific mind that pierces into the darkest forms of “magic” (the secret sciences) of the ancient masters, then by all means read on and learn what may well grant you the final edge necessary for you to finally take over the world. (I jest of course; the world shall be mine and mine alone.)
I can hear you now, trying to shout down the voices in my head: “But Dr. Genocide, no one has dispatched Mummies in two hundred years! They’re a laughing stock. Why, the last time anyone tried utilizing the things, they barely seized half a city block and a child’s lemon-aid stand.” True, though in defense of the late, great Colonel Catastrophe, that did turn out to be a troublingly well-defended dispensary of sugar and citrus. Be that as it may, whereas you see this litany of ridicule and failure not worthy of serious consideration, my own fractal genius sees this pathetic reputation and scorn to be the boon it is.
The sad fact of the matter is, every day the mainstay henches of yesteryear lose more and more of their effectiveness. Whether through overuse, development of countermeasures, or other myriad factors, the truth is that one simply does not get as much “punch” from the traditional hench-entities. Allow me to illustrate:
To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Winter 2015 collection.
Dr. Genocide is a regular contributor to Mad Science Monthly. He is listed as one of the Galactapol’s Most Wanted for over a decade, and his schemes have nearly granted him total control of reality no less than seven times. He currently lives in a undisclosed Orbiting Death Station with his three cats: Blargat the Eater of Space, Felinitus, and Mr. Meow-Meow.
J. M. Perkins is a San Diego based genre fiction writer and former survivalist with over a dozen of his short stories sold, published, printed and adapted: on the web, in print anthologies, and on Public Radio International. He used a successful Kickstarter campaign to publish his first novel, and cohosts the podcast ‘John vs Patrick.’
Based in Seattle, Katie Nyborg is a writer, illustrator, and fairy tale collector. She’s composed primarily of ghosts, peppermint patties, and an overactive imagination. More of her work and worlds can be found at katiedoesartthings.tumblr.com.
This story originally appeared in A Method to the Madness: A Guide to the Super Evil.Follow us online: