[ WP ] You are one of the many henchmen to the Evil Lord Deathsinger , the baddest of the bad of the supervillain world . Today however Lord Deathsinger is sick and decides to put you in charge in his absence , but little does he know that you are a far more capable supervillain .

`` It does n't feel right, being out of uniform like this.'' 
 
 I was crouched down, placing the last explosive charge on a painstakingly selected support beam. I had the rest of the goons decked out in civilian clothing instead of the blatantly sinister looking red and black commando gear everyone sees from a fucking mile away. 
 
 Winston was the most troubled by all this. I had been tuning him out for the past few hours but he would n't stop pressing the matter. 
 
 `` Come on Hiddy. This is n't what we're about. We're supervillains and you have us doing this generic terrorist shit.'' 
 
 I'd had enough of this, so I finally spoke up. 
 
 `` Look,'' I stood and faced Winston, along with the other six men I had chosen to leave the base with me, `` If you want to go back to being used as fodder for some super-powered model in tights to kick to shit out of then I'll kill you right now. It'd probably be more humane than whatever that'hero' would do to you anyhow.'' 
 
 Winston's stoney expression softened a bit. He was one of the favored of Deathsinger's henchmen. Even had his own villain name, Soprano, and a distinct uniform which was even more impractical and clunky than Deathsinger's own militant opera singer get up. He was, like so many of the morons who went into supervillainary, a gifted criminal more interested in theatrics than practicality. 
 
 There was no further need to explain. I walked towards the door and the other goons stepped aside and followed after me. 
 
 There would be no telltale signs of Deathsinger being involved in this crime. No epic battle with any heroes. A simple terrorist attack which would sift the political balance and open doors. We'd be long gone by the time the charges went off. 
 
 I had n't fully figured out how the full transition of power would playout yet. Slipping the ricin into Deathsinger's wine was a last ditch attempt to save myself from the superhero beating I was probably slated for when the evil lord's most idiotic, hero-baiting plot ever predictably fell apart.
