Behold, my greatest creation:

[m_mcgregor]

At long last, the time is upon us. For too long, my greatness has been kept hidden from the world; trapped beneath the thin veneer of mundanity that no longer serves my purpose. Can you even begin to imagine the resolve it took to pass myself off as one of you? I, for whom even godhood itself would be an insult

Comments

[tara_li]

Ok, if you killed off The Braga, that makes you a Superhero in *MY* book! I've been wanting that SOB killed off since ST:TNG.

In the mean time:

I am The Quiet One. My rants are encoded in the very DNA of the horrific biowarfare virus I have released into the wild, with an incubation period of 6 months, after which the processing enzymes cleverly hidden from detection by being attached to molecules of thiotimoline will be released from their presence a few seconds in the future, to start the conversion of the elements in everyone's bodies into pure gold. After I stole that Goose from that Mad Doctor - you know the one, he just kept writing and writing and *WRITING* about anything and everything!!! - oh, I killed him. He was my first kill. But I did it quietly, because I am the Quiet One, and everyone just thought he died of old age. But SOON! You and all of your minions will be but nuggets of gold for me to walk around and gather - me, and the few selected people I have chosen to survive with me. All really lovely women, of course. I figure if I have to have minions, they should at least be easy on the eyes. And that equal opportunity crap? I'm *EVIL* - I don't obey laws like that! I would have run for Congress, but I'm the Quiet One, and they're such blow-hards, and besides, while I'm the Ultimate Evil That You Never Hear Coming, there's some depths I just won't sink to. But soon, my milliards of millions of microscopic minions will manifest their migration, and manipulate the materials of man into my massively magnificant mammonesque money pile! And then I'll be looking at Scrooge McDuck and asking him what quackerjack box he found his pitiful pile of pences in!

And then, I shall have enough money to go back in time, and ensure the Sheer Magnificence of the classic Battlestar Galactica gets continued properly, and that abortion of GINO never gets made. And then I'll kill Keanu Reeves after he finishes making the first Matrix movie, so that he'll never make that horrid remake of The Day The Earth Stood Still, or the Matrix sequels...

So, Mr. Super Braga-Beater, congratulations on your conversion to the Light Side. We have cookies on this side, and you can't have them any more!

[m_mcgregor]

I find your alliterative ways as alluring as they are admirable, although your ambitions are as absolutely amateurish as all alternate reality advocates.

Still, I will not interfere in your plans. Not so long as they serve to further my own ends. You will know when they no longer do, for that is when the icy grip of my power shall clutch at your heart. I shall feast that day; not only on the anguished cries of all those who opposed me, but also on any and all manner of cookies.

If I so desire cookies, so shall they be made available to me. Of this, you may have no doubt! There is no place where a cookie might escape my grasp, remain hidden from my eyes, or be freed from my infinite influence.

I am M. McGregor, and I shall eat cookies!