Even Dark Lords Have Off Days

Lightning cracked and thunder pealed across the stormy grey sky as DeathLord AngryDeathPantsMurderWill (Will for short) brooded on his magnificently crafted throne. All right, so it might have been a recliner from IKEA, but he'd fixed it up with a lot of black drapery and red gauze and really, it looked intimidating enough (at a distance, in the dark) that it worked.

"Poindexter!" his mother called up the stairs (for he lived on the second floor of this grotesquely splendid castle, or rather, duplex). "It's time for dinner!"

"My name is not Poindexter, woman!" he scowled. "You know it's DeathLord Angry-"

"Whatever," she cut him off with an impatient snort. "Get down here before your food gets cold."

With an angry huff, Will stood up, gathering his black silk cloak around him for extra emphasis, and stalked down the stairs. This time, he was pleased to note, he only tripped on the last two steps and managed to catch himself before he fell over.

"Meatloaf again?" he complained as he sat down at the disappointingly ordinary kitchen table. His younger sister Alexis stuck her tongue out at him and he made a face back before remembering that wasn't very supervillain-esque.

"Yes, and stop complaining, you know it's your favorite," his mother sniffed, passing him a plateful. He muttered imprecations into his mashed potatoes as he sinisterly devoured his meal, stopped only by his sister repeatedly kicking him under the table. Finally, his fork clattered down.

"Moooom! She's kicking me!" he complained, glaring at Alexis, who only smirked behind her dinner roll.

"Poindexter, stop whining. Alexis, stop kicking him," the tired woman said, rubbing her eyes and wishing for a drink.

"Of course, mother," Alexis said sweetly.

"It's not Poin-" Will tried to speak up, but his mother glared at him.

"Enough," she barked. "Eat your meatloaf."

After dinner, the thoroughly chastened dark lord was forced to wash and dry the dishes, while his nemesis, the twelve-year-old in brown pigtails, overalls, and pure evil, danced around him, practicing her high kicks for dance class and more than once, managing to kick him. When cornered on this, she always claimed it was an accident.

Will knew better.

Finally, however, he was able to clamber up the steps (once again tripping and this time acquiring rather painful rug burn on his chin) into his dark fortress of doom, otherwise known as his room. His preparations were almost complete. Soon, the world would know who he was and speak his name in fearful tones. DeathLord AngryDeathPantsMurderWill (Will for short) would go down in the history books, and the planet as they knew it would never be the same.

If, that was, his computer would work. It had shut itself down again. Will tapped his fingers angrily on the bottom of the keyboard as he waited. This was intolerable. The first thing he'd do when he took over the world, he decided, was get a top-of-the-line laptop. This one was two years old, the lettering had worn off half the keys, and he never could fix the stickiness of the spacebar after he'd spilled diet coke on it.

Finally, however, it booted up properly and he was able to bring up his program again. If it worked (and he had no doubt that it would), he would be able to take control of most banking institutions, the electricity grid, and his little sister's WiiU that she wouldn't let him play on. It was devilish, it was diabolical. A grin spread over his face. It was perfect.

"What are you doing?" Alexis spoke up behind him and he jumped, nearly flinging his laptop across the room. Whirling around as best as he could (wrapped up in his cloak and bits of drapery), he glared at his little sister.

"What do you think you're doing, sneaking into the Dark Lord's Citadel?" he demanded in icy tones. Alexis rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, Mom told you to stop coming into my room without knocking," he complained.

"I need a usb drive," she said, crossing her arms and sneering at him. "It's for school."

"Fine," he sighed, rummaging through the miscellaneous clutter on his desk and handing her one. It was with a burst of spiteful pleasure he realized it was his only pink one. She hated pink.

"Thanks, Poindexter," she sing-songed and skipped out of his room. Ugh, he thought, turning back to his laptop. Ah, that was it. Just a few more lines of code, and then-!

His laptop shut down again.

"Damn. It.," he snarled, shaking his fist. "Why won't you work?"

"Probably because I put a virus on your computer to distract you so you wouldn't notice when I stole your super special taking over the world program and all your passwords," Alexis said calmly behind him. With a yelp of shock, Will scrambled up.

"Hey! You did what?" he demanded, glaring at his little sister.

"Oh, and you can't tell mom because if you did, you'd have to tell her how you were trying to build a virus to do really illegal things, even though your program wouldn't work," she grinned at him. "Have fun fixing your bank account. Poindexter."

And with that, she skipped out of his room, pigtails gently swaying behind her.

The Darkest of all Villains, DeathLord AngryDeathPantsMurderWill (Will for short), slumped down on his twisted, dark throne, brooding in his cloud of melancholy and evil. So that was how it was to be. His nemesis, the Dark Witch Alexis, thought she could out-maneuver him that easily, eh? A chuckle bubbled up from his throat. She would learn. Oh yes, they all would learn! He threw his head back and laughed as thunder cracked once more.

"Poindexter! Your friend's on the phone! It's about algebra!" his mother called up the stairs.

"It's not-" he started and gave up, sighing. "Coming, Mom," he yelled back instead.

The Dark Witch Alexis could wait. Even for Dark Lords, homework came first.