Starbucks Coffee, Seattle, the next morning
Breakfast the next morning was a very awkward affair. Demonica was still sitting in the chair nearest to Scott's but had ended as far away from him as was humanly possible without ending up in the miniature freaks lap. In an attempt to break the highly uncomfortable atmosphere, Dr. Evil addressed the room in general,
"So what¹s the Evil family got planned for today?" he said, looking around the table. Scott rolled his eyes, as far as he was concerned, sitting in his room, watching movies all day suited him just fine, but somehow he doubted this would happen.
"Well," Number Two said, taking a small black box from his pocket and pointed it at the large Evil sign on the far wall which moved up, revealing a television screen with a large map of the White House on it, "I was thinking that today we could move onto the next phase-"
"Excuse me," Dr, Evil interrupted, "Just remember Number Two that I don¹t know phases."
"Dumb ass." Scott muttered so it was just audible for Demonica to hear.
"As I was saying," Number Two continued, "this is the next stage," he corrected himself, Dr. Evil nodded, "of our constant endeavour of world domination. I intend that we take over the White House, the Oval Office and the whole of the Senate and the President of the worlds most powerful nation for shall we say, Three hundred billion dollars?" Evil laughter from Frau Fabissina and Number Two filled the room in admiration of Number Two's genius but Dr. Evil was not very impressed, the evil laughter stopped as Dr. Evil spoke,
"Two things Number Two, first of all only I am allowed to orchestrate evil laughter understand? And secondly why make three hundred billion dollars when we can make-" He paused dramatically, raising his right pinky to his mouth, "three hundred million dollars?!?!?!?" Mini-Me nodded in agreement, raising his miniature sized pinky to his equally small mouth.
There was silence for a moment as Frau Fabissina, Number Two and Demonica eyed each other uncomfortably wondering who would correct the evil mastermind himself, then,
"Oh God!" Scott cried, slamming his fist down on the table in despair, "You do this every time! When are you going to learn that a billion is larger than a million? God! You¹re such an idiot!"
"Look Scott," Dr. Evil said, completely ignoring his son¹s remark, "Daddy's working. He doesn¹t need you snotty little nose poking around in his business." Scott sniggered at this, but again Dr. Evil ignored him, "Now why don't you and.......and......" He gestured towards Demonica, "your sister go and do something else, you know, show her round the complex or something."
Scott opened his mouth to protest, he would rather sit and listen to his Father's nonsensical schemes than do anything concerning HER, but he realised that protest in this situation would be useless so he got wearily up from his chair and Demonica followed him, looking nervously behind her as the pair left the chamber.
As soon as they left the, Scott rushed into his room and slammed the door. Demonica was left standing in the corridor under the roving lens of the CCTV camera. Hearing a sudden blast of loud rock music, Demonica pushed the door hard so that it slammed open into the wall. Scott stared at her with a look of utter disdain and said coldly,
"Get out, you¹re poisoning the air. Can't you read?"
Demonica raised an eyebrow, "Can you?"
Scott glared at her and turned up the music. Demonica bent down and yanked the plug from its socket. The music stopped abruptly and Scott in mid air guitar solo, looked up sourly,
"God I hate you!" he yelled.
"Is that your answer to everything?" She replied mockingly.
"So what if it is?" he said sulkily.
"That music sucks." Demonica said picking up a CD case, looking at it briefly then tossing it onto the bed.
"It does not! It rocks! But I suppose and person of your low intellect wouldn't recognise that and would prefer the Sesame Street theme tune."
"Oh, well done Scott," she said, patronisingly, "You put more than four words together and made a sentence, you deserve a gold star."
Scott scowled and folded his arms. His eyes followed her as she began to walk around the room pausing to look at his collection of old comic books and battered CDs. Scott instinctively darted forward when she stopped and looked at his blue and silver electric guitar which was leaning by his bed.
"Hey, what¹s a prat like you doing with such a cool guitar?" Demonica muttered as she passed it. She moved over to his desk which among various piles of paper had a computer on it, some jewellery and about twenty bottles of hair dye and gel, Demonica suddenly burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
"What?" Scott said, moving over to where Demonica was standing.
"It¹s just that, you're a boy." she said, stopping to laugh.
"Yeah, that¹s right. And you're a freak." Scott said.
Demonica, ignoring this comment, continued, "But yet you've got about fifty bottles of hair dye and another fifty pots and bottles of assorted hair products. I mean I know you want to look after your hair but I think you have a serious problem, Garnier."
"Yeah well, I haven¹t got as much hair stuff as you have spots on your face!" Scott retorted.
"Jackass."
"What did you call me?" Scott demanded.
"A jackass." Demonica said, at the same time lunging for him, he wasn¹t expecting it and couldn¹t get of the way quickly enough. Her long, perfectly manicured index fingernail scratched him under his left eye.
"Bitch!"
"Oh, sorry, did I hurt poor little Scott?" Demonica cooed.
Affronted, he retaliated, catching his sister a blow on the arm and gripping her in a tight headlock,
"Get off me!" She screamed, kicking fruitlessly at his ankles.
"Get off me!" He mimicked, sniggering at her infantile efforts of defence. He brought his right arm up and slammed it down hard onto her eye and then again onto her nose. Warm blood began to pour down her face, Scott, seeing this and realising the danger to his shirt, he hadn't a clue how to get blood out and explaining how it had got there to his mom really wasn't too appealing, he let her go.
"You friggin' punk!" She shouted angrily, unsuccessfully attempting to staunch the blood flow. Realising that it was a lost cause, she held her nose with her left hand and, using her free one, yanked hard on Scott¹s hair, twisting it, causing him to cry out in pain. Forcefully, he removed Demonica's hand from his hair he and, biting his lip, he spoke coldly to his sister,
"Get the hell out of my room!"
"With pleasure. I wouldn¹t want to hang around in some saddo creep¹s room anyway." Smirking, she marched out, kicking the door with the back of her heal so that it slammed hard. She heard the rock music blast out as if in a gesture of defiance.
The White House, later that day
The President of the United States sat behind his desk in the Oval Office facing his Chief of Staff. They were both busy shifting through a pile of documents.
"Oh no! Not another one!" The president said, lifting up a glossy leaflet from the top of his pile.
"Another what?" The other man said, looking up.
"Another letter from Big Boy!" He opened the leaflet and began to read, "Dear Mr. President, you have been chosen as one of our ten lucky costumers here at Big Boy! The next time you order a Big Boy Meal with a regular shake and fries you are entitled to a 10% discount!" The President put down the leaflet on the desk, "I don¹t mind the saving but it bothers me how these people get my address! I always tick the box on questionnaires which say that I do not wish for my details to be passed onto any other company! I mean, jeez, how do they get it? It¹s crazy!" The dark haired man just nodded in agreement and looked back at his pile of papers on the desk.
After a few minutes of quiet reading, or, for the president, quiet making of paper aeroplanes from the glossy leaflets, a voice came over the PA system,
"Good afternoon Mr. President. This is Dr. Evil."
The president looked up, his eyes wide, he looked for some sort of reaction from his Chief of Staff but instead he just fell forward onto the desk.
"Okay....." He muttered, feeling for a pulse on his colleague.
"You won't find find a pulse on him, Mr. President," Dr. Evils voice came over the room again, "In fact, you won't find a pulse on anyone in this building because everyone except yourself is.......dead!" He paused for a moment then the infamous laughter filled the room, "Muhahahahahahahahahaha!"
Breakfast the next morning was a very awkward affair. Demonica was still sitting in the chair nearest to Scott's but had ended as far away from him as was humanly possible without ending up in the miniature freaks lap. In an attempt to break the highly uncomfortable atmosphere, Dr. Evil addressed the room in general,
"So what¹s the Evil family got planned for today?" he said, looking around the table. Scott rolled his eyes, as far as he was concerned, sitting in his room, watching movies all day suited him just fine, but somehow he doubted this would happen.
"Well," Number Two said, taking a small black box from his pocket and pointed it at the large Evil sign on the far wall which moved up, revealing a television screen with a large map of the White House on it, "I was thinking that today we could move onto the next phase-"
"Excuse me," Dr, Evil interrupted, "Just remember Number Two that I don¹t know phases."
"Dumb ass." Scott muttered so it was just audible for Demonica to hear.
"As I was saying," Number Two continued, "this is the next stage," he corrected himself, Dr. Evil nodded, "of our constant endeavour of world domination. I intend that we take over the White House, the Oval Office and the whole of the Senate and the President of the worlds most powerful nation for shall we say, Three hundred billion dollars?" Evil laughter from Frau Fabissina and Number Two filled the room in admiration of Number Two's genius but Dr. Evil was not very impressed, the evil laughter stopped as Dr. Evil spoke,
"Two things Number Two, first of all only I am allowed to orchestrate evil laughter understand? And secondly why make three hundred billion dollars when we can make-" He paused dramatically, raising his right pinky to his mouth, "three hundred million dollars?!?!?!?" Mini-Me nodded in agreement, raising his miniature sized pinky to his equally small mouth.
There was silence for a moment as Frau Fabissina, Number Two and Demonica eyed each other uncomfortably wondering who would correct the evil mastermind himself, then,
"Oh God!" Scott cried, slamming his fist down on the table in despair, "You do this every time! When are you going to learn that a billion is larger than a million? God! You¹re such an idiot!"
"Look Scott," Dr. Evil said, completely ignoring his son¹s remark, "Daddy's working. He doesn¹t need you snotty little nose poking around in his business." Scott sniggered at this, but again Dr. Evil ignored him, "Now why don't you and.......and......" He gestured towards Demonica, "your sister go and do something else, you know, show her round the complex or something."
Scott opened his mouth to protest, he would rather sit and listen to his Father's nonsensical schemes than do anything concerning HER, but he realised that protest in this situation would be useless so he got wearily up from his chair and Demonica followed him, looking nervously behind her as the pair left the chamber.
As soon as they left the, Scott rushed into his room and slammed the door. Demonica was left standing in the corridor under the roving lens of the CCTV camera. Hearing a sudden blast of loud rock music, Demonica pushed the door hard so that it slammed open into the wall. Scott stared at her with a look of utter disdain and said coldly,
"Get out, you¹re poisoning the air. Can't you read?"
Demonica raised an eyebrow, "Can you?"
Scott glared at her and turned up the music. Demonica bent down and yanked the plug from its socket. The music stopped abruptly and Scott in mid air guitar solo, looked up sourly,
"God I hate you!" he yelled.
"Is that your answer to everything?" She replied mockingly.
"So what if it is?" he said sulkily.
"That music sucks." Demonica said picking up a CD case, looking at it briefly then tossing it onto the bed.
"It does not! It rocks! But I suppose and person of your low intellect wouldn't recognise that and would prefer the Sesame Street theme tune."
"Oh, well done Scott," she said, patronisingly, "You put more than four words together and made a sentence, you deserve a gold star."
Scott scowled and folded his arms. His eyes followed her as she began to walk around the room pausing to look at his collection of old comic books and battered CDs. Scott instinctively darted forward when she stopped and looked at his blue and silver electric guitar which was leaning by his bed.
"Hey, what¹s a prat like you doing with such a cool guitar?" Demonica muttered as she passed it. She moved over to his desk which among various piles of paper had a computer on it, some jewellery and about twenty bottles of hair dye and gel, Demonica suddenly burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
"What?" Scott said, moving over to where Demonica was standing.
"It¹s just that, you're a boy." she said, stopping to laugh.
"Yeah, that¹s right. And you're a freak." Scott said.
Demonica, ignoring this comment, continued, "But yet you've got about fifty bottles of hair dye and another fifty pots and bottles of assorted hair products. I mean I know you want to look after your hair but I think you have a serious problem, Garnier."
"Yeah well, I haven¹t got as much hair stuff as you have spots on your face!" Scott retorted.
"Jackass."
"What did you call me?" Scott demanded.
"A jackass." Demonica said, at the same time lunging for him, he wasn¹t expecting it and couldn¹t get of the way quickly enough. Her long, perfectly manicured index fingernail scratched him under his left eye.
"Bitch!"
"Oh, sorry, did I hurt poor little Scott?" Demonica cooed.
Affronted, he retaliated, catching his sister a blow on the arm and gripping her in a tight headlock,
"Get off me!" She screamed, kicking fruitlessly at his ankles.
"Get off me!" He mimicked, sniggering at her infantile efforts of defence. He brought his right arm up and slammed it down hard onto her eye and then again onto her nose. Warm blood began to pour down her face, Scott, seeing this and realising the danger to his shirt, he hadn't a clue how to get blood out and explaining how it had got there to his mom really wasn't too appealing, he let her go.
"You friggin' punk!" She shouted angrily, unsuccessfully attempting to staunch the blood flow. Realising that it was a lost cause, she held her nose with her left hand and, using her free one, yanked hard on Scott¹s hair, twisting it, causing him to cry out in pain. Forcefully, he removed Demonica's hand from his hair he and, biting his lip, he spoke coldly to his sister,
"Get the hell out of my room!"
"With pleasure. I wouldn¹t want to hang around in some saddo creep¹s room anyway." Smirking, she marched out, kicking the door with the back of her heal so that it slammed hard. She heard the rock music blast out as if in a gesture of defiance.
The White House, later that day
The President of the United States sat behind his desk in the Oval Office facing his Chief of Staff. They were both busy shifting through a pile of documents.
"Oh no! Not another one!" The president said, lifting up a glossy leaflet from the top of his pile.
"Another what?" The other man said, looking up.
"Another letter from Big Boy!" He opened the leaflet and began to read, "Dear Mr. President, you have been chosen as one of our ten lucky costumers here at Big Boy! The next time you order a Big Boy Meal with a regular shake and fries you are entitled to a 10% discount!" The President put down the leaflet on the desk, "I don¹t mind the saving but it bothers me how these people get my address! I always tick the box on questionnaires which say that I do not wish for my details to be passed onto any other company! I mean, jeez, how do they get it? It¹s crazy!" The dark haired man just nodded in agreement and looked back at his pile of papers on the desk.
After a few minutes of quiet reading, or, for the president, quiet making of paper aeroplanes from the glossy leaflets, a voice came over the PA system,
"Good afternoon Mr. President. This is Dr. Evil."
The president looked up, his eyes wide, he looked for some sort of reaction from his Chief of Staff but instead he just fell forward onto the desk.
"Okay....." He muttered, feeling for a pulse on his colleague.
"You won't find find a pulse on him, Mr. President," Dr. Evils voice came over the room again, "In fact, you won't find a pulse on anyone in this building because everyone except yourself is.......dead!" He paused for a moment then the infamous laughter filled the room, "Muhahahahahahahahahaha!"