Free Bad Moon E-Zine #1 - New Moon by Tom Laimer-Read Page A

be. He could never find the right words, and she
was never available when it was convenient for him. She had found
solace in the arms of a confectionary salesman from Chichester,
which had caused Dr Gloom to fall into a deep depression and
mistakenly attempt to overdose using the laughing gas that he used
to anaesthetise his patients. This excessive intake of laughing gas
had left his nerves frazzled and fused them into a permanent state
of misery. He already had a lot to be miserable about, what with
Shirley, the confectionary salesman, being named Norman Skillet and
coming from Kiddiminster, as it was, but his disenfranchisement was
pushed over the edge of destruction when he inhaled the gas, and he
could never fully go back to his life before that, pursuing a life
of heinous crime and mayhem in recompense. He still did a bit of
private dentistry on the side, to keep his hand in so to speak, and
assist his employees with their medical packages, but the super
villain business took up most of his time after the incident
occurred, so there was scant time for romance or any other untoward
hobbies like that.
    It had all
been such a blast to begin with. In some cases, quite literally. It
was a real wild ride. There was glamour, excitement, hostage
situations, secret missions, jet planes, hovercrafts, crazed
henchmen doing amazingly dangerous feats of terror... and then...
somehow everything had lost its charm. It had slowly become a
chore. Even evil super villains had to fill in invoices to their
suppliers and keep up with their monthly accounts. The tedious
trials of everyday life had taken over, and Dr Gloom was sick of
them all.
    “Master, shall
we test the Gloomsday Device? It might help you feel better.”
    “Hmm, I don’t
know, Flaubert. Maybe.”
    Dr Gloom
observed the intricate gadget before him. He had designed it
himself, but got Flaubert and his engineers to develop it, since
they had the expert technical knowledge in that field. He wondered
if it wouldn’t have been more practical to have invested in
something that might have benefitted people slightly more usefully.
He mused that he could even have gotten on one of those television
programmes where business leaders invest their money in your
project if they thought that it was good enough, or could have done
some kind of crowd funding project over the internet. Still, things
were the way that they were.
    The Gloomsday
Device sparkled in the morning sun. It looked as if this escapade
could be his final fling, his Swan Song, his curtain call. He had
better make it a very good, or indeeed very bad, one, and make
certain that it was worthwhile, if not why do it at all? He
expected some kind of feeble heroic response. Word always got out
when a diabolical plan was underway. There must have been leaks and
infiltrators within the organisation, no doubt, but even the rescue
attempts undertaken by his opponents were sloppy and underwhelming
these days. Who would they send this time? His arch nemesis,
Captain Saccharine, or one of the lesser lackeys to complete the
fixture? Captain Saccharine’s super power was to be excessively
cheerful to the extent of breaking down his foe’s will to continue.
It worked extremely well. Even Captain Saccharine was finding it
difficult to scrape around for work these days. He was getting past
it, with rheumatism and gout taking their toll. He was sure that he
would see him again, in time. Perhaps this would be their final
showdown? The thrill of a spectacular entrance had really worn off
a long time ago, it was all too eminently predictable these days
that to Dr Gloom, it was just going through the motions. These days
the new batch of heroes and villains were all gloss and image, it
was a culture of hype without substance. Dr Gloom had seen many
come and go in their tight spandex and rubber outfits, each one
swearing to put him away for good, and each failing miserably. But
it was Dr Gloom himself who was always the most miserable at