The brilliant scientist, Portage McPeeve, does not want to take over the world.
He’s discovered a way to travel the stars, using them as gateways into other realities. With his Gateway Manipulator, he hopes to rule all the worlds of the multi-verse with an iron fist. However, when his beloved kitten becomes lost through the machine, he does not hesitate to cast plans for multi-world domination aside; instead, he follows her through the cosmos – encountering zombies, higher education for Supers, Greek gods, and killer ninjas along the way.
Will Portage find Mrs. Bumblefrost before it’s too late?
Portage was clueless. He fiddled with the controls of the Gateway Manipulator with growing frustration. What was the point? No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t seem to make things right. Here he was, on the brink of the greatest discovery in the history of the human race, and he was still obsessing about his name.
“What about the Destructo-nator?” he asked his assistant as he popped another part into the machine. “Does that sound intimidating enough?”
She shrugged. Her name had never been an issue. With her genius I.Q., her predilection for world domination alongside the perfect leader, and her nerdtastic fashion sense, she had always seemed destined for life as a villain. Her parents’ sense of humor in naming her ‘Snap Decision confirmed it.
Surely she could have risen to super villain status on her own, but she chose minion work alongside her childhood companion as a stepping stone in her career. Why should she do all the work herself when one of the world’s most brilliant minds could do it for her? Feined subservience was a classic tool in power plays. Besides, if villains always worked against each other, no one would ever dominate the cosmos.
Also, minion work had its benefits, and she needed a good dental plan.
Snap finished pouring the cat food into the bowl for Mrs. Bumblefrost. The kitten lounged across her computer keyboard yet again, and when Portage’s back was turned she pushed the feline roughly to the ground. Damnation, but she hated that cat.
“Baby?” said Portage, turning to check on the small ball of fur making her slow, languid way to the food dish. “Are you okay?” He turned. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Oh, dear Lord, though his subordinate. “Nothing,” she said aloud. “She’s just excited about her food.”
Mrs. Bumblefrost sat before the bowl, licking one white paw with her rough, pink tongue. She gazed at the bowl, then Snap, then the bowl again.
Portage McPeeve, one of the greatest scientific minds the world had ever known, made Einstein look like a pre-schooler. His theories on the multi-verse could rewrite the way humanity saw, not only themselves, but every other living being they shared existence with. He would create the paradigm shift that would affect all life for the rest of time, and one day he would rule the multi-verse with an iron fist.
He also had a huge crush on his cat.
Snap twirled her ponytail with one hand and pushed her black-rimmed glasses up her nose with the other. Why did she always go for guys with fundamental character flaws?
Hephaestus leaned in to get a better look through the second story window at the laboratory below. He adjusted the fabric of his cape that had gotten caught on some of the roof garden’s decorative bushes. Darn branches, he thought. What the heck am I doing wearing this stupid thing anyway?
But he knew darned well what he was doing (he didn’t approve of swearing, not even in his thoughts). Appearances were important, even when no one else could see you, even when you were doing surveillance work and the only one who knew you were wearing a cape and tights was yourself. He adjusted his cod piece. Sometimes it was easier to resign himself to the uniform of a super than others.
He knew supers were supposed to wear a cape and tights, so he did. In this world you didn’t always get to do what you wanted. Still, he was glad he wore his customary work clothes over the uniform. He realized this might violate some rule for super hero attire, but at least the cape still showed. Appearances were important, but so was utility, and tights didn’t leave much room for his tools.
The apron sported a variety of pockets designed to hold his equipment, something he suspected the scientists below would appreciate. He set his hard hat next to him on the pebbled roof and crouched against the window. What were they doing?
After a good ten minutes of petting and coaxing, Portage set the kitten down before her food dish. Mrs. Bumblefrost spent another minute on her tongue bath, then pounced on the dish as though it were a stray mouse.
Portage laughed. “Did you see that? She thinks the dish is her prey!”
“A-dorable, sir,” said Snap, careful not to roll her eyes in front of her employer. “Shouldn’t you get back to the Gateway Manipulator, sir?”
Doctor Portage McPeeve straightened, adjusted his labcoat, and cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Thank you, Ms. Decision. You’re absolutely right.” He turned to the machine once more.
The Gateway Manipulator would be the crowning achievement of his career. He had paid his dues in a million secret jobs, establishing himself in the super villain community, and honing his skills. Experience was said to be the best teacher, and Portage thoroughly believed this – as long as it was backed with several degrees in theoretical physics. Technology was, after all, the practical application of scientific principles to everyday life, and soon Portage would change everyone’s lives forever.
To that end, he had employed Snap Decision. Minions weren’t hard to come by, but ones a visionary such as himself could trust certainly were. Most minions would sell out their employers in a heartbeat, no matter how good the health insurance – even with dental. But he’d known Snap since high-school. He remembered with fondness the late night study sessions they engaged in every Saturday, when they’d gorged themselves on homemade chocolate-chip cookies.
Though he would never admit it, Snap was his best friend – other than Mrs. Bumblefrost. However, appearances were important, and he couldn’t allow himself to become overly fond of an employee. “Ms. Decision, hand me those pliers.”
Snap stopped chewing on one of her ponytails and handed him the tool. Gotta love a man who knows his tools, she thought.
**Look for the next exciting installment of Pinholes next Tuesday, same cat-time, same cat-channel… uh, blog. I meant, blog.