Back in the good old days of henching, you took pride in your uniform. 

He stared at the wall, not once bothering to shut the fuck up, adding to his overwrought soliloquy. “If not for the untimely interference of World War II, which in my humble opinion, is greatly over-rated. It does not deserve to be called a great war! At best, it was an adequate war. Why the Spanish-American War of 1989 is not considered a great war is purely racist, one of the greatest injustices of history. Yet again, I digress when I should merely state my point, I will be the rightful ruler of the universe as soon as…”

Dr. Antithesis raised his goblet in the air, toasting the drab wall and then pretended to drink the contents. Long story short, he did not have the means to purchase mead. You would think the lunkhead would find a different prop instead of relying on an empty goblet. Pathetic.

As a henchman, you see a lot of unchecked egotism, but hey, it barely pays the bills. It’s pretty hard for a guy my age with non-Hollywood looks to get a job in D-Town (Decatur).

“Wreaking havoc is easy, and most importantly, untraceable. Committing a crime, on the other hand, not so much. Too much “evidence”; too much planning; too many loose ends you have to “kill” later. Chaos can always be blamed on Mrs. O’Leary’s cow.”

That was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.