Just how much awesome could you possibly fit into one day? MegaMind was wondering if, maybe, there was a mathematical equation that he could create that would deduct just how much awesome you could fit into an hour, to experience the supreme awesomeness that a person could sustain without caving in on oneself in an implosion of awesomeness. It was probably possible, but that would mean he would have to stop what he was doing and run to a chalk board and right now? He wouldn't dare!

The day had been filled with such delights. Not only had he and Minion ransacked the museum, bank, aquarium, art gallery and local hardware stores but they had had good fun painting almost anything they could blue (one of the most awesome colors in existance thank you very much); not to mention the money fights! Though that one had kind of hurt and it was agreed upon that money fights would from now on consist of throwing stacks of money at one another rather then using bags of coins like pillows. His jaw still ached, but the incredible awesome he had experienced today was numbing the pain.

The city was his! Finally, after years of loosing to the likes of MetroMan, the city was his! He could run rampant through the streets, throwing explosives into expensive china stores, setting the Brain Bots loose on unsuspecting couples in the park, and replacing all shampoo with nair so there would be more bald people around. It was alarming to him just how sourly humans looked upon baldness. No doubt when everyone would be walking around without any hair they would realize how handsome and amazing it is.

And so the days continued to drift by. Minion had taken a liking to collecting rare pieces of art and stacking them around in his new center of evil, the old Mayor's office. Even now, piles of it surrounded his desk. Gold bricks were stacked in a way which reminded him of the building blocks they had in school. All across the table was money, on the ceiling were burn marks from when he had shot his laser now and then in celebration. Truly, these would be the days he would look back upon with fondness. The days he could trail muddy foot prints through hotels, break windows, and hurl cars with large robotic catapults just because he could.

And yet...

Practically all his life, Metro Man had been there. Forever just over his shoulder, watching him with that stupid super vision of his to make sure he wasn't causing trouble. Of course the man couldn't be everywhere at once (could he? MegaMind would have to check the MetroMan museum to see if he could be and if so then what had become of privacy?) so every now and then MegaMind would get the drop on him. Mind control devices, evil toys, shrink rays and of course, kidnapping Roxanne Ritchi. Oh man, the look on MetroMan's face always brought an evil grin to his face. The way he would look tense, worried, even a little bit scared for the woman of his dreams. How he would always come to the rescue and...

...but those days were gone now, weren't they? Sitting in the Mayor's office, surrounded by works of art, gold, money, and other pretty shiny things, MegaMind would never have to look up at the towering man that was MetroMan. Never again would they exchange witty banter, puff themselves up and try to out smart the other with witty quips. No more would he be stopped, or challenged. Finally, he had won! Being bad had finally paid off!

Hadn't it?

Without anyone standing up to him... what was he going to do? Would he grow fat and lazy? The very idea made MegaMind shiver with disgust. Would his brain, no longer functioning at the rate of evil master mindedness, slow down? What if he became stupid like a human? They only used a small percentage of their brain power, imagine if the same thing happened to him! What would his parents think, their amazingly handsome awesome son reduced to a blubbering shadow of his true, glorious self? They would spin in their graves (if they had any)!

Staring out his window, staring at the large statue of MetroMan, it was here that MegaMind finally realized... without MetroMan, he had nothing. They had had something, something important. What was the point of a Villain without a Hero?

What was the point in anything?

This sudden wave of depression punched him in the gut before upper cutting his chin. The force seemed to literally cause him to suddenly keel over, grabbing the desk for support. It was here he spotted a box, in the bottom drawer of the desk he hadn't seen before. Seeing how he had nothing better to do (and nobody to stop him) he took out the box and held it up so he could see it properly in the fading light. It had a picture of a well dressed dead eyed bird on it, and apparently when attached to a full glass of water (which met the diameter requirements) it would drink and never stop... it would never be full, never satisfied.

Funny how a few days of non-stop fun and gaining control of a whole city would put a genius like him into his place. He actually felt like he understood this little bird. Maybe the bird could dispense some wisdom gained from experience?

Only one way to find out.