Later that night, Oleander is sitting in one of the dental chairs in Loboto's holding area, listening to one of the mad doctor's stories, but all he can think about is why Milla was acting so overly protective of him earlier that day. Really, what was she so nervous about? He's a fully certified Psychonaut who is more than capable of taking care of himself. Maybe she was doing it out of concern for his wellbeing. Or maybe… "You're a pathetic, worthless, miserable excuse for little bunny that'll be ground up if left alone." Oleander hears the voice of his father tell him in a condescending voice.
"And then I asked Nien, 'So, do you think that we bleed the same colored blood?', as I extended my claw in his general direction. Ha! You should of seen how flushed his face was as he awkwardly backed away from me!" Loboto says as he keels over laughing, to which Oleander's only response is a sad sigh.
For once in his demented life, Loboto felt a new feeling upon seeing his new friend in distress. It wasn't that he never saw sadness, heck, seeing people sad gave him such a rush of pleasure and excitement, but with Oleander, this Psychonaut that he met only just the other day, he felt for the first time a feeling of worry; a feeling that made him want to make his new friend feel better.
In response, Loboto pulls out a stool and sits next to Oleander. "General Oleander, I've noticed that you're less lively tonight. Is there anything that you would like to talk about?"
"It's just Milla… Earlier today, she begged me not to take her shift and come here. I don't know if it's my short size or what, but she tends to try to mother me and treat me like one of her goddamn children at that goddamn orphanage that she used to work at. I am not some little boy, I am a MAN!" Oleander punctuates his sentence by punching the arm of the chair.
"Orphanages… Boy, do they bring back good memories…" Loboto says as he tilts his head, entranced with thoughts of nostalgia."
"You were an orphan, Loboto?" Oleander asks with intrigue, snapping Loboto out of his thoughts.
"No, I just have memories with the buildings. You see, one night a few years ago, I was in my house, reading the paper, when out of nowhere, I got this sudden urge to burn a building down; so I pulled out a map, closed my eyes, twirled my finger, and pointed to a random building, and that building I chose happened to be an orphanage."
Loboto starts wiggled his fingers as a big, delighted grin spreads across his face. "So at about 10:00 p.m., I drive out there in my car, go to the rear of the buildings, and started throwing Molotov cocktails through the windows. You should have seen it, General Oleander! By the time the people inside realized what was happening, it was all too late! As that building burned down, you should have heard the cries of those children as they begged for help; and while this was happening, I laughed, laughed and then laughed some more! HAAAAAAA!" Loboto says with all of the excitement of a child opening their Christmas presents.
And as quickly as Loboto's excitement came, it left as he mellowed a bit. "But sadly, a few pedestrians saw me fleeing the scene while I sang my burning song, which I created just for the occasion, and the police arrested me for arson soon after."
"Burning song? You seriously created a burning song, Loboto?"
"Sure did, General Oleander, and it goes something like this…"
Loboto then gets off the stool and begins to sing in a raspier, higher-pitched voice than normal.
"Joy to the world, the orphanage burned down
And all the orphans died
They all screamed in sorrow and I laugh until tomorrow
They're rotting and burning in Hell! HA!
They're rotting and burning in Hell! HA!
They're all rotting and burning in Hell!"
Loboto then stops singing and turns to face the entrance. "Sheegore! Come in here, I need you for the chorus of 'Joy to the World, the Orphans are Dead!'"
"I don't need to hear any more of your song, Loboto." Oleander retorts with an awkward look on his face.
Sheegore then nervously skitters into the room wearing a top hat and carrying a cane. "I-I'm here to sing the chorus, Dr. Loboto..." The timid girl says as she cowers in front of her sadistic boss.
"Change in plans, Sheegore; just go back and do whatever it is that you do when I don't give a damn about you." Loboto pouts, disappointed in not being able to sing his song; to which Sheegore responds by running out of the room.
"If only something like that would happen to Milla's orphanage…" Oleander remarks, considering what it would be like to have the Great Milla Vodello knocked down a peg.
"You must really have a thing against this woman, General." Loboto notices with intrigue.
"Well, I loved her for years, only to find out that she was only my friend because she pitied me for my height. Do you know how painful it is when the person you love rejects you because of physical features beyond your control?"
Loboto then gently places his hand on Oleander's shoulder. "Her name was Betty Symons, a student who went to Dentist School with me. One day, I decided to ask her out, and I mean, I poured my heart out to this girl, but how did she respond? She laughed in my face and started calling me hurtful names like 'Blue Berry Boy' and 'Christmas Eyes'…" Loboto says with a bitter growl.
At this moment, Oleander notices the similarities between Loboto and Bobby Zilch: the slender figure, the blue skin, and the red and green eyes. "That reminds me, Loboto… Are you by any chance related to a kid named Bobby Zilch?"
"Who gave you the idea that I'm related to that kid? Was it his bitch of a mother, Nancy Zilch? Because if it is, then I'll tell you what I've told her several dozen times over the course of 12 years: I may or may not have had a drunken encounter with her, but that boy is not mine until I see a DNA test. If you're so confident, Nancy, then where are your papers? Huh? HUH!?" Loboto yells as he clenches his fist and claw.
Oleander slightly recoils in his chair. "Sorry I asked…"
Loboto, as if a switch was randomly flicked in his head, reverts back to his more upbeat tone of voice. "So anyways, where was I…? Oh right! So latter that night, I snuck into her dorm room with a buzz saw, not to kill her, mind you, but rather, to make her a little more… ugly. Anyways, I approach her bed with the saw, but once I turned it on, she woke up, screamed, and pushed me back; which caused me to fall on the ground and the saw to sever my right arm off."
Loboto eyes his robotic claw as he bends the ends in and out. "Unfortunately, she soon called the cops, so I had to quickly get out of there and leave my arm behind; thus, I had to use my experience in engineering, which I minored in, to build myself a right arm so that I could at least utilize that portion of my body." Loboto shrugs his shoulders. "It didn't hamper me too much, because I was born a lefty."
Loboto then wraps his arms around Oleander's shoulders. "But with our combined efforts, General Oleander, we'll be able to execute a plan that will get your revenge and global domination at the same time!"
"So, got any ideas, Loboto?"
"I'm glad you asked, my dear friend. Come, I have something to show you…" Loboto says as he walks towards the entrance to the room.
Loboto then guides Oleander to his actual laboratory, where he sees a heap of scrap metal, which is probably some sort of tank, judging by the treads present, and a blackboard filled with complicated mathematical work that gave him a headache just looking at. Loboto then pulls out a blueprint with a picture of a strange tank on it. "Behold! The Psychic Death Tank!" Loboto screams at the top of his lungs.
"I never thought I'd see the day where two of my lifetime passions, psychic fighting and weapons of war, are combined into one beautiful form?" Oleander says in astonishment as he strokes the blueprint with his hand to make sure that he isn't seeing things.
"Glad to know that an official Psychonaut is impressed with the idea." Loboto says with a smirk on his face, proud that a member of the Psychonauts, the go-to-psychic international organization, and his new best friend nonetheless, was amazed with his diabolical plan.
So what gives this tank its psychic capabilities, psytanium? Also, I noticed that there's no entrance point on this tank, so how does one maneuver it?"
"An excellent question, General Oleander! You see, those two questions share a common answer: the brains of psychics. You see, I've always had a fascination of the human mind and studied it as a hobby; and during my studies, I've managed to create a sneezing powder so potent that it can cause anyone that smells it to sneeze their brain right out their nose."
Upon hearing that bit of information, Oleander starts to think that this is too good to be true and that Loboto's plan is a bunch of fluff. Powder that can cause someone to sneeze their brain out; that sounds like some story that they'd right for True Psychic Tales Magazine. Thus, Oleander, crossing his arms, questions Loboto. "If this sneezing powder works like you say it does, Loboto, why don't I see you use it on someone?"
Loboto shrugs his shoulders. "If you wish… Sheegore! A moment of your time!" Loboto yells as Sheegore, who is holding Mr. Pokeylope, rushes into the room immediately after the mad doctor called her.
"Y-Yes, Dr. Loboto…?" Sheegore askes as she nervously cradles Mr. Pokeylope.
Without warning, Loboto puts his claw near Sheegore's face and then cranks it, which causes a green powder to eject from the claws tip. After trying her best to hold back the sneeze, the nervous assistant sneezes out her brain, which hits the floor and lands tight in front of her feet as her body goes limp. "Teeee-veeee…." Sheegore mindlessly says as she starts to drool a little and walks out of the room while still holding Mr. Pokeylope.
Loboto then walks over and picks up Sheegore's brain. "Like de-pitting an olive!" Loboto says matter-of-factly.
"I can't believe it, you actually did it… So is your assistant going to be alright?" Loboto asks, never having seen a person walk around without a brain.
"Sheegore, she'll be fine. I've tested this powder on her dozens of times; I'll just simply re-brain her when I feel like it." Loboto responds with the relaxed wave of his hand.
"So if you're capable of building a fleet of Psychic Death Tanks and taking over the world, why are you letting me in on it? I mean, for all you know, I could get you arrested for this sort of thing." Oleander asks, preparing himself for any dirty tricks that Loboto may try to use to silence him.
"Well, first most, I may be crazy, but I know who I like and don't like, and I know for a fact that I feel like you're one of the few people who actually understand me. Also, in order to execute this plan, I'm going to need to get many psychic brains, so I'll need you to use your connections to get the Psychonauts to send individual agents here for harvesting. Plus, with your combat experience, you could use your combat expertise to guide our army of psychic death tanks to victory!" Loboto proclaims with his fist proudly raised in the air.
For once in his life, Oleander feels truly needed: he isn't that kid that everyone laughed at, he isn't that man who was rejected from the Military, he isn't a tool that the Psychonauts use when they see fit. He is Oleander, the general who will make them pay; who will make every last one of them grovel on their knees, begging for mercy and forgiveness. He is no longer a small bunny; no, he is the biggest bunny that the world has ever seen!
A maniacal grin spreads across Oleander's face. "I have an even better idea, Loboto: Why don't we invade Whispering Rock and steal the campers' brains. Not only do they have about the same amount of raw energy, but it would be a whole lot easier than going up against full-fledged Psychonauts."
"I'd love to, General Oleander, but to do so would be to get past those two pesky agents and we both know that they would easily stop our attempts or call in for reinforcement if need be!" Loboto grunts in frustration.
"Don't worry about Sasha and Milla; I'm close with them, so I can easily catch them off guard. So when are we going to set our plan into motion?" Oleander asks with a look of excitement on his face.
"Well, I need time to build the tank and prepare our method for bringing the brains here, so I think it should be ready in about a year. You just take over all of the patrol shifts here so that no one at your agency gets wind of our plans."
"Consider it done." Oleander Says with a nod.
"Now there's one last thing: What should we name our master plan? We can't be credible villains without a cool name for our evil plan." Loboto says as he scratches his head and tries to concentrate.
Oleander then slowly walks out of the lab, with Loboto following right behind him, and goes over to the railing where he can easily see Whispering Rock, which has its outdoor lights on. "Operation Easter… because no longer am I a little bunny, but rather, the most important bunny of them all; and like with the Easter Bunny, the world shall taste my eggs!" Oleander yells as he bursts out into a maniacal laugh, with Loboto soon following suit.