Free Project Northwoods by Jonathan Charles Bruce

just as thickly as the smoke. The twelve visible members of the committee were all chuckling to an inside joke that, no doubt, Arthur or all those who wished to become villains were the target. At the moment, he could not bring himself to care. The knot in his stomach had since turned into resolve. He inhaled in order to clear his throat and bring the attention to himself.
    “Ah, Mr. Lovelass,” the familiar, so-British-it-hurt voice cut through the muttering effortlessly. “A perennial pleasure.” The chair at the far end of the room rotated, revealing the tall, gloriously mustachioed and impeccably groomed Jack Cleese. Arthur inwardly thrilled at the dramatic flair of a true super villain, even if it meant that Cleese had been staring at a painting of himself in the time between Roller Jockey leaving and Arthur’s arrival.
    Which, knowing what he did of Mr. Cleese, was not too much of a stretch to believe.
    “Thank you so much for seeing me today,” Arthur said as he moved toward the table. He thumped the suitcase on the wood and shoved the chair away with his leg. With a flourish, he spun the case and opened it toward him. “I know you probably think I’m wasting your time, but this… this will have you begging me to join the ranks.” He pulled the device out of the case, removed a small piece of cloth from his pocket, and used it to conceal his invention.
    “Well, you’ve never ceased to amuse,” Jack coughed, “erm, inspire us.”
    Arthur hadn’t noticed the cover up. The two nearest members of the committee, the ones he could see in his peripheral vision, had leaned around, clearly piqued. He smiled and set the suitcase on the floor. A cocky grin crossed his face as he leaned on the table now, hands flanking the white sheet. “Alright… here it is…” He hovered a hand over the sheet dramatically. With a flourish, he yanked the cloth off and threw it behind him, yelling, “The single greatest invention mankind has ever seen!”
    He stood for what felt like an eternity but must have been only three seconds, tops. No one said a word, and Arthur felt that moving would jinx what he felt was a silence stemming from pure, unadulterated adoration. The quiet was shattered by a British twang. “I’m fairly sure the digital projector has already been invented, Mr. Lovelass.”
    Arthur smirked and finally relaxed. He was all too aware of what it looked like, and had sort-of rehearsed this part of the presentation with an attempt at casual charm. “Ah, yes, but this isn’t a digital projector. It’s…” Wait for it … “A death ray!”
    Mr. Cleese gurgled a noise halfway between choking and a wail and placed his head on the table. Arthur had expected this initial reaction, which was why he had already grabbed for his suitcase. “I know others have done this before. I mean, ‘death ray?’” Arthur said with faux-incredulity. He chuffed to continue the illusion of disbelief and cast a look at the nearest committee member, an unimpressed woman with the features of an angry terrier.
    “Where does this kid get off?” He opened the case and pulled out the blueprints and copies of his proposal, which he set on the table. “This kid gets off, gentlemen and ladies, on the fact that he studied every single design from the Wündermark IV onward.” Did I just make an orgasm analogy? Even if he had, there was no time to worry about it now. “Each one of them had a flaw, a glaring mistake which allowed heroes to thwart them at the last second.” He pushed the proposals toward the nearest committee member, who didn’t take a copy, but instead arched his eyebrows and shoved it down the line toward Mr. Cleese. “Most were technical considerations… an exhaust port, an all too easy to access reactor…”
    Jack picked his head up off the table and looked wearily at Arthur. “Mr. Lovelass…”
    The tone immediately sent a spasm of fear into his gut. Arthur recognized it. “I’ve tested it!” he shouted,