True Story©... A Supervillain Reform School
Somewhere in the midst of the work of it, reading and listening back, I began to feel something like contrition over the shit I've done. I knew that contrition is one thing, but to seek absolution is a whole other thing. To seek absolution, one must redress the thing they seek absolution from.
That means that declaring myself done with the supervillainy is only the first step. The next -- and more important -- one is to do the work of making it right.
One might think that a step in that direction might include seeking to be held legally responsible for the things one has done, but that is one hell of a rap sheet and I'm too beautiful for prison so that is all the way off the table.
As there is no community service program for reforming assholes, I'mma have to come up with something on my own and do it outside of the purview of the actual law. Can't shake the fact that they just might be mildly interested in what is shaking with what they don't know I've been up to.
After much contemplation and prayer, I decided that I would open a reform school...
No not an actual school, but a program for reforming supervillains. A place for me and those like me to live on a straighter path. Of course I cannot present this on any normal avenues of advertisement because I've learned through the years that supervillains don't normally operate out in the open like that unless they're of the "politician" type. I set to the task of writing out the plans and how we would do things when we met and how, specifically, we could all work together to put our pasts behind us. I took to the dark web, in the same avenues I have been existing for the past 8ish years, to recruit for people who might be looking to break free of it all but had no means or support in doing so. Kinda like alcoholics might find their eventual salvation at one of their favorite watering holes.
Armed now with an idea of how to carry this and some people who are interested in what I have to offer, I leaned into what I learned about renting public housing at fair market price back in Old Bamma Care and secured a quick place for us to have our meetings and sessions. I secured, funnily enough, the same place I had for my "clinic," apparently the cards aligned perfectly with when I'd left it and when the next people had. This time, I didn't even bother with furnishing it beyond some office things, a large table for refreshments and several folding chairs -- all items I have in my storage building at home.
In the background while securing all of this I had selected, mostly at random because I was busy with logistics and am too cheap for an assistant, four "students" for my trial run.
Once I had the minimal furniture in the house, plus four televisions and a serviceable security system in place, I planned our meetings to start at 6pm on Monday so as to allow people time to earn their livings.
To say I was anxious headed into the first meeting would be an understatement. To think that it would be allayed by just getting into the weeds and DOING it would have been foolhardy. Put a pin in that, it will matter very soon.
Everyone arrived with some semblance of punctuality... The first at 10 til 6, two at 6 on the head and the last straggler -- apologetically -- at 6:04. Everyone took a snack and a beverage from the kitchen and had a seat in the living room, where we arranged ourselves into a circle with me at the front of the room nearest the big TV...
Me: "Since we're all new to one another here, how about we introduce ourselves. Given what we're doing here, please include your villain origin stories."
It turns out I was inadvertently lying like shit, for at least part of that statement. Turns out I knew everyone in this room, though they had never seen my face.
Villain #1: "Well I guess I'll go first...
As a kid, my dad was my world. He was always a firm and guiding hand, always had my best interests at heart. He worked a lot, but was always there when we needed him most. One time when I was in middle school, he went away for a 'weekend business conference' for work. I have since learned that his 'business' was supervillainy and the 'conference' was a supervillain 'Superbowl' if you will. Well that year's winner convinced my dad, as a part of his presentation, to rob a bank with him but instead backdoored my dad and had him hauled away for a sec change operation nobody asked for.
When my dad woke up in a woman's body with no context or knowledge of what had happened, he immediately went insane.
When he came home from that convention, he was ruined. He couldn't leave the house and subsisted on a diet of Jell-O pudding and Enfamil. Despite his best efforts to keep me out, I swore I would FIND the mother fucker who did this to my family so I dropped out of 8th grade to become a supervillain myself.
I have let revenge consume my life and BECOME me, and it has cost me a chance at any normal social existence. I just want better before any kid I make comes out like me, or worse..."
With a small tear running down his cheek, he sat back down in his chair and wouldn't make eye contact with anyone.
I say he "wouldn't" make eye contact but it should be noted that I COULDN'T make eye contact as 1 - I was stifling laughter due to the fact that 2 - I had FORGOTTEN having done that shit! It is only now dawning on me that I have to do my best not to let on who I am or WHY I am here or we're not all leaving here whole...
Me: "That was--... heavy... Anyone else want to share?"
Villain #2: "I'll go."
Me: "Shoot--... I mean... DON'T shoot, y'know, but let's hear it."
This one is an older gentleman.
Villain #2: "I had a business partner and we were doing quite well... Or, I should say that I THOUGHT we were doing quite well. He was cooking the books and made us look quite profitable on paper in an ongoing scheme to clean ill-gotten funds behind my back. I had the background in the work we were doing and he knew finance. Turns out that he, too like this guy's dad, went to one of those damned supervillain things to compete. Not only did he lose, he was outsmarted into a giant polycarbonate box -- a cage, basically -- with a TON of cicadas in it during their mating season. The sound of their clattering left him deaf and had warped him so badly that he couldn't even remember his own name when his disheveled body was dumped on the front steps of our offices. Power of attorney for me was written into our business contract and he was bought out for the estimated cost of ongoing care for him in his new state.
What I found when it was said and done was a financially ruinous mess. I was left holding the bag for his misdeeds, had to do three years behind the tax crimes and had to pay restitution when I came home.
I swore I would take every PENNY of that restitution out of the cicada man's ASS whenever I found him and it consumed my life. My wife had stuck out prison with me, but couldn't handle my obsession with revenge and left me. That was when I realized that supervillainy had cost me everything, and here I am..."
WHAT ARE THE FUCKING ODDS?!!?
I blindly select four people who, like me, want to better themselves but I am the catalyst for why they need betterment? This some ol bullshit.
Pokerface back on, Phillip...
Me: "Wow... Anyone trying to follow that?"
Villain #3: "I think I'll try."
Me: "Well let's hear it!"
Villain #3: "My now-ex Lady was playing games on Facebook like nine years ago and said I was cheating. The trick was to make people respond and inbox her, and then THEY would have to post something provocative to keep the whole thing going.
Well, a gathering of dumbasses will do 'gathering of dumbasses' shit, and three of these Bumb Ditches in her circle let the air out of my tires, then beat me unconscious when I knelt down to fix it. And I ain't e'em cheat! Matterfact, I didn't know what had happened until I came home from the hospital two days later. When I found out, I kicked her out my house for causing it and keeping bumb ditches in her circle.
Ever the social media addict, I became the villain in her personal story for breaking up and all of her NOW former friends lined up in the comments to agree and my name was shit in the streets.
... until the whole truth comes out, now the sympathy comes in and now ALL her friends wanna fuck! Well, feeling like I am the victim in this and deciding since she wanted to MAKE me the villain, I'mma BE that, so I obliged all of em. I guess I ain't EXACTLY a 'villain' compared to what they got goin on, but the number one way to be seen as one is to sex several women in one friend group and I am absolutely that right now. I just need my name back good so my car stops getting egged."
Finally, one I DIDN'T do personally.
I mean I remember when it happened and laughed harder than any mature person should have, but my hands were not on it!
Me: "Damn, bruh... Single women keeping single women single."
I turned to the last person...
Me: "What about you? Damn, you're young... How'd you even get in here?"
Villain #4: "I'm 13... When I was 8, when the world first opened back up after Covid, my parents took me to the park and we played with some other kids. Some asshole who called himself 'Moe' approaches me and tells me that my parents asked him to tell me that I was adopted. My parents SWORE it wasn't true and tried to plead with me that it was just some asshole being an asshole to a kid.
I refused to believe them and started acting out and thought it would be funny to put a pinhole in my dad's brake line, give him a little scare on the way to work. Well that caused a major accident and left him in a wheelchair and on the hook for all the damages when the insurance company realized what I had done.
I was punished to the point where I ran away at 10 and have been getting by on the grace of squatting and crimes. My whole focus has been on FINDING this 'Moe' guy and killing him so I can finally go back home. I really think I should just get a DNA test with at least one of my parents and put this all behind me though."
It stands to reason that this kid SHOULD be able to recognize me from that playground, but five years is an eternity to an 8 year-old mind and I have literally lost 30% of what I weighed in 2020 so there are people who have known me for years that might not recognize me now.
Thank goodness...
Me: "I am... wow...
Look, we probably should have left the origin stories for later in the week. This was rough. I'mma cut short for today, y'all feel free to have a snack on the way and, uhh... See y'all tomorrow evening?"
Everyone agreed and filed out of the house without any drama.
I went home and had to figure my way out of this shit and fast. I need to make sure to NOT have to mention any little piece of my origin story to this group. I can't imagine it would play well with the populace to learn that I had PERSONALLY ruined three of their lives and laughed like a psychopath at the fourth.
My mom always says my life has been an unending series of "shit that could only happen to Phillip," and here we are again.
Think, Phillip, think...
You're in a position of your own doing, these people think they need you, but to get below the surface will make things very -- VERY -- bad. What do we do?
On Tuesday, I feigned some little emergency and went by the house early to set up before anyone had a chance to enter early. I assigned everyone their own code to open the lock on the front door and texted them their codes individually.
I left refreshments on the table and texted everyone as a group at 5:59 that I was running late, to help themselves to the already-set-out refreshments and I'd by in a short while.
6:05 - I checked the cameras and made sure everyone was in the building.
6:07 - I activated the external auxiliary locks I had installed to secure the building from the outside.
6:11 - I got JUST close enough to the building to connect to the WiFi and turned on all the televisions.
6:17 - the first texts come in: "Where are you and what is in this punch? My stomach is feeling funny."
6:23 - "How come all these TVs are stuck on The Wonderpets? Where is the remote?"
6:25 - "There's no TP in any of these cabinets, and we can't get the doors open!”
6:30 - "PLEASE HELP US!!!"
I honestly don't know what any messages after that said, I threw that cheap-ass TracFone in the creek and went to play with my grandbaby.
I had spiked the punch with horse laxative because I couldn't get colonoscopy prep for four people on such short notice, then removed all but one roll of TP from the single bathroom in the house they were locked inside of.
As we all recall, I was using a fake name and stolen identity to secure the house to begin, so I'll deal with detective Ramsbottom whenever he tries to investigate this shit.
[Phlip note: investigate shit... See what I did there?]
After listening to the origin stories of three people I had personally fucked up and one I was thoroughly entertained by, I made a few decisions...
1 - FACING these people would have visited a less-than-enjoyable outcome eventually, 'cept on ME.
2 - I'm far too deep in this supervillainy shit to ever quit it.
2a - ain't it FUN?!!?
I hope they get outta that house before the food runs out.
.jpg)
Comments