The Overlord Saga
Vol I. Past, Present, Future
Chapter 7: Something Better Than Burritos
As the emergency war council stood before her, the Overlord stroked Nard’s head, who sat dutifully in her lap. He eyed each minion with half of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. The Overlord’s fingers began scratching behind her companion’s ear, causing his head to tilt to the side. “Are we all here?” She asked, looking at the crowded room disdainfully. They really had to get an official meeting room, complete with a flatscreen TV. They always seemed to have those in 24, and they weren’t even members of the SVC. She would write this down for future reference later on.
“It would appear so,” a thin man with curly brown hair waved from where he was sitting with a silver lap top.
“Wait... Who are you?” the Overlord asked.
“I’m your scribe! You just hired me,” he replied, “I’m here to write everything down, Overlord!”
“Oh right... Scribe, make sure you don’t leave a word out!” the Overlord nodded, “Okay, we’re going to start off with a roll call. Go down the line now.”
“The Soul-Keeper is here!”
“The Advisor!”
“The Evocator!”
“Wait... Hold on... What do you do again?” the Overlord pointed at the Evocator, frowning.
“Errr, if I may... We’re not quite sure. She’s just magical,” the Advisor replied.
“Got it. Keep going,” the Overlord waved a hand.
“Master of Tazers is present!”
“Animal Tamer!”
“The Scribe!”
“Ninja-Lord!”
“The Theurgist!”
“Warchief of the Overlord's Personal Faction of Zombie Hunters!”
“Whoa, whoa, wait, what?” The Overlord frowned.
“I hunt zombies for you...” the Warchief of the Overlord's Personal Faction of Zombie Hunters replied, “You hired me last Monday when you thought you saw a zombie in your fortress...”
“Oh...” the Overlord frowned, “You’re getting a new name. I can’t remember the last one. You’re the Captain Zombie Headhunter now.”
“Thanks be to the Overlord!” the Captain Zombie Headhunter replied.
“Then we’re all here,” the Overlord nodded, “All right, ladies and gents, it’s time that we put on our thinking caps. Proverbially speaking that is. The Insurgents have a high moral and we cannot have them storming our gates while they think they can win. The best way to crush an enemy is to crush their spirits. So... We must plan!”
“We use ancient magic to summon a giant meteor that will fall on their heads in a few days! And then, we watch as they panic...” the Soul-Keeper began excitedly.
“No, Sephiroth did that already,” the Overlord shook her head, “We’re looking for humiliation, not destroying everything in sight. We’re not that simple, remember? That is what makes us different from other villains, yes?”
“Yes!” the Advisor nodded.
“We like complication!” the Soul-Keeper yelled, “... Wait... Why does it always have to be complicated?”
“Because that’s how we roll.” the Overlord replied.
“Then a new plan,” the Scribe began thoughtfully, typing furiously on his laptop. “We send rats. Infested with nasty diseases... Rabies, the Bubonic Plague, AIDs, stuff like that... And we let it BITE them all.”
“Ooh, that’s vicious,” the Animal Tamer said thoughtfully.
“It’ll take too long to assemble that many diseased rats,” the Advisor pointed out.
“Well, technically...” the Theurgist began, holding up one of his hands. “Most rats do carry diseases- the feral kind, I mean. It wouldn’t take that long, but the sheer thought of attempting to capture AIDs-ridden rats sort of makes me want to come up with a better plan.”
“Wait... can rats get AIDs?” the Soul-Keeper asked.
“I’m sure there’s a way they could,” the Evocator frowned, “What if... There was a rat version of AIDs?”
“I thought AIDs came from monkeys?” the Soul-Keeper asked.
“It doesn’t matter! I don’t want my entire army infested with disease because a few rats decided to nibble on them. Too risky, we find a better plan!” the Overlord roared.
“So we make the Insurgent Leader look like a fool,” the Soul-Keeper began, a stroke of brilliance lighting up his eyes, “We make him look like a fool... Lookin’ like a fool...”
“... It’s perfect,” the Overlord said breathlessly, her eyes meeting the Soul-Keeper’s. “I know of what you speak, my faithful second-in-command! And I agree. We humiliate the Insurgent Leader!”
“Public humiliation? That’ll do it,” the Evocator nodded, “What do we need to do?”
“We meet at 4 p.m., as planned. All of the troops will circle up. I will duel him, not for a fighting triumph, but for a moral victory!” the Overlord stood up, “Tomorrow, we shall make the Insurgent Leader look like a fool...”
“With his pants on the ground!” the Soul-Keeper chimed in.
---
Underlings Sexist and Tinkerbell were standing in the northernmost hall of the Fortress, a place often described as the ‘ghetto’ of the Overlord’s lair. Looking at a few pothead underlings, Sexist shifted his weight and flicked the wristband attached to his arm. “Can’t believe she put tracking devices on us,” Sexist remarked dryly.
“I can. She’s ridiculous,” Tinkerbell scoffed.
Sexist shrugged and began messing with his zipper on his jacket, moving it up, then down, then up once more, then back down again, then up another time, then back down, but accidentally unzipped it too far. He frowned, then began trying to zip his jacket up again, much to Tinkerbell’s annoyance. Still fiddling with the zipper, Sexist wondered aloud, “How do zippers work?”
“And how on Earth were you made the Insurgent Leader’s second-in-command?” Tinkerbell remarked sourly. “Let’s get the eff out of here, okay? I’m starting to forget my own name... And that’s just not good.”
“My name?” Sexist frowned, “I... I... What is my name?”
“I don’t know. Sexist?” Tinkerbell shrugged.
Sexist frowned, and looked at a few wandering underlings that blankly stared ahead of them. ‘Will we end up like that?’ Sexist shuddered, ‘Aimlessly walking around? This is awful!’ He folded his arms and said, “So I was talking to another underling a few days ago. Her name was Katelynne... Or so she thought... She couldn’t quite remember. Do you think this place slowly erases your memory?”
“In that case, the sooner we get out, the better,” Tinkerbell replied.
“That freaking Ninja-Lord, though. How do we get past her?” Sexist blew a twig of blonde hair from his eyes, “She’s everywhere. She’s probably listening in right now...”
“Probably...” Tinkerbell twitched in paranoia and looked over his shoulder.
“You seem like you’re on edge,” Sexist remarked.
“I just don’t want her popping up behind me again. She does that. All the freaking time,” Tinkerbell scowled.
“Yeah. It freaks me out too,” Sexist leaned against the wall and sighed. ‘We need to escape. But how?’ He glanced around the guarded hallways, knowing that one of the more devoted underlings would rat them out in a heartbeat. ‘The doors are guarded unless we’re at war. We’ll have to wait until then...’ Sexist hung his head in misery.
“I heard there was an underling who got out past the main gates. Then the Advisor gunned him down with a machine gun,” Tinkerbell said blandly.
“Oh geez...”
“A MACHINE gun.”
“That’s awful.”
“A freaking MACHINE gun.”
“Ugh...”
“... So worth it if we get out of this place,”
“... Agreed.”
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